“Ebony and Ivory” is one of the dumbest movies I’ve ever seen. Taking inspiration from Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder’s collaboration on racial harmony, the film isn’t really about the creation of the song. It’s not even really about the artistry or lives of these two musical titans. Instead, it’s a shaggy hangout film where McCartney and Wonder are dimwitted adversaries who spend their days getting high, insulting one another, and eating veggie dinners. In short, it’s incredibly fun.
Set in Mull of Kintyre, Scotland, “sometime in 1981,” writer/director Jim Hosking’s film begins on a white sandy beach. Mouth agape, Paul (Sky Elobar) stares out to the sea as a rowboat nears the shore. Fighting against the rough waves, the rowboat is manned by Stevie (Gil Gex), who is dressed in a white leopard print fur coat. When he docks, he disembarks with several maroon-colored suitcases. At first, the men exchange few words. The pair trudge up the craggy shore toward Paul’s car, whose license plate reads “NUGG3TS.” Why is Stevie here? Was he invited or did he come of his own accord? While Stevie offers an antagonizing answer—he’s there to help Paul reach musical legend status—the reason isn’t really important. “Ebony and Ivory” sees these men not as mythical musical figures, but as two glib guys high off their own gas.
That assumption isn’t totally off base. You’d have to be a little glib to believe writing “Ebony and Ivory,” a disposable, syrupy, albeit catchy pop song, would somehow serve as a fitting metaphor for integration. “Ebony and Ivory” the film ridicules that grandiose belief not by directly critiquing the thought, but by revealing the silliness of even thinking it.
Hosking’s riotous, somewhat threadbare script would probably collapse if he instructed Elobar and Gex to directly imitate McCartney and Wonder, respectively. Instead, Elobar imagines McCartney playing the role of McCartney. During most moments, Elobar maintains the singer’s sing-songy accent, while often referring to himself as “the cute one, the one the girls go mad for.” He does it in a way that makes you believe the “Paul is dead” rumors. You can easily imagine him as a doppelganger whose mask is slowly slipping with each of Stevie’s insults.
Gex, on the other hand, doesn’t even offer the pretense of replicating Wonder’s personality. Instead, his grunting, growling performance is more akin to Frank Kelly’s Father Jack in the Irish sitcom “Father Ted.” Stevie spends much of his time mocking Paul, repeating the phrase “Scottish cottage” with the disdain of a man who despises the twee manner of his host.
Nothing much narratively happens in “Ebony and Ivory.” For a long stretch, Paul brags to Stevie about Linda’s line of ready-made veggie food called “By the Wife,” as Stevie demands veggie nuggets be fed directly into his mouth via a mini ramp. At another point, Paul coaxes Stevie into getting high by trying to make him guess the phrase “doobie woobie.” The pair also go swimming in the sea, going full frontal. This is all to say, don’t come to “Ebony and Ivory” expecting a jukebox musical. The music here is minimal, and the musical talent required to translate it is even less.
Hosking appears to take glee in not giving in to those expectations. Therefore, your patience with this stoner comedy will likely vary, especially as the tone becomes more oddball and the visual language adopts a trippy aesthetic. Even when the film offers the viewer a performance of the titular song, it does so in the most juvenile and idiotic tone possible. That need to subvert assumptions while mixing high and low comedy to needle rather than entertain is what makes “Ebony & Ivory” pure art.
