One to One: John & Yoko Review: A Gripping, Emotionally Striking Time Capsule

      If there’s one element you cannot overlook in Kevin Macdonald’s riveting New York City music documentary from the '70s, One to One: John & Yoko, it's undoubtedly the music. With son Sean Ono Lennon overseeing the project, the remastering of the iconic couple’s sole complete concert—John’s last performance eight years before his assassination—offers a monumental experience in near-mythical music history. Furthermore, for the first time, we can not only hear it but also see it, transforming what was partially captured in Lennon’s 1986 posthumous album Live in New York City into a vivid and unforgettable cinematic journey.

      In late 1971, Yoko successfully persuaded John to mix things up. They relocated from their secluded mansion at Tittenhurst Park in rural England to a compact West Village apartment nestled in Manhattan’s bohemian hub, previously a haven for beggars, beatniks, and Bob Dylan. This shift placed them among the people and rekindled their spirits. History often overlooks this, but Yoko was right in her vision.

      This move represented a deliberate simplification for a celebrity couple that had experienced both faith and disillusionment in the material world, desperately trying to encourage the masses to embrace love and challenge oppressive institutions from the comfort of their estate. It also marked a significant turn toward America, reflecting its dominant pop culture, socio-political upheaval, and potential for global influence. Enter television.

      For TV enthusiasts, rejoice! You’ve discovered your ideal emblem, or at least two of your coolest companions: John and Yoko. Their fascination with American television is evident throughout the film, thanks to co-director and editor Sam Rice-Edwards, who skillfully showcases this obsession. Watching One to One is akin to settling in for an indefinite TV binge with John and Yoko.

      We flip through channels—black-and-white static crackling in between—in the nostalgic realm of 1970s New York City TV. Rice-Edwards transitions from a vintage Tupperware ad to a popular talk show featuring a relevant guest from that era, integrating a full performance from the One to One concert that we revisit every few minutes, alongside news segments covering significant events (like Attica or the RNC) and clips from various TV shows, returning to the earlier talk show with John and Yoko now as guests.

      Rice-Edwards’ creative editing transforms the film into a 1972 hangout experience driven by an artist-activist ethos. Rather than indulging in drinks and cigarettes with John and Yoko, we join them in cultivating change, one-on-one. The filmmakers also accessed Yoko and John’s phone records, revealing a treasure trove of insights about Yoko and the Beatles. It’s reminiscent of the candid conversations captured in The Beatles: Get Back, providing an unfiltered glimpse into the daily lives of John and Yoko through their apartment phone.

      In one conversation, John discusses with manager Allen Klein whether to perform “Attica State” or another song at an upcoming event, pressing Klein for a reason to dismiss “Attica State.” At one point, John ominously states, “I’m not going to get myself shot.” Their phones being bugged, their apartment monitored, and their car followed amid a looming public deportation threat only highlights their tenacity as true revolutionaries.

      In other calls, Yoko shares her feelings about the other Beatles, who remained silent towards her in media discussions, which wounded her after she extended love and respect to them as individuals and artists. “That’s male chauvinism,” she tells a reporter. She also addresses the media’s portrayal of her as “ugly,” in a society that rarely described public figures in any negative light, no matter their appearance. One humorous moment captures John and Yoko urging AJ Weberman to apologize to Bob Dylan for digging through his trash on television. It's indeed a man’s world, and by the end, we find ourselves joining John and Yoko on the frontlines of the American feminist movement.

      With Macdonald and Rice-Edwards’ innovative approach, One to One elevates beyond a typical music documentary, creating an immersive experience that encapsulates the time period and paints a more nuanced picture of John and Yoko by incorporating relevant cultural and socio-political clips that fueled their activism. Rather than detracting from their social and political lives, their media passion helped them grasp their influential potential within U.S. culture, making television their gateway. As John aptly states, “If you want to know what 20 million Americans are talking about Saturday morning, it’s what they watched Friday night.”

      Another vital aspect of One to One is its historical significance. During the 21 months—from August 1971 to May 1973—that John and Yoko resided in their small West Village apartment, numerous nation-defining events unfolded. Where to start? Perhaps with Attica? Or Watergate? Or Nixon’s re-election shortly