“Can I sing it again?” Bono asks Vox. He has no time to finish his sentence because the 1,400 spectators crowding the stalls and boxes of the San Carlo in Naples answer him in unison. They had expected nothing else.
This is how U2’s most militant voice attacks Torna a Surriento for the second time, filmed by an operator with a shoulder camera. The song pays homage to his father Bob (“A Very Good Tenor”) and to Sorrento Lodge, where the two met for Sunday beers for years. Bono’s Neapolitan is pretty lame and it takes a lot of courage to sing Ernesto De Curtis’ classic right under Mount Vesuvius. But Bono is not lacking in courage, signing his surrender to demons and weaknesses in “Tales of Surrender”. And the audience gives up: at the last note, they get up to applaud him at the end of a two-hour show between songs and (many) memories.
Saturday, May 13th, in the oldest opera house in Europe, was the last date of the theater tour that started in autumn, in which Paul David Hewson was alone and without U2 on stage. In the audience the Minister of Culture Gennaro Sangiuliano, Nicoletta Mantovani, the widow Pavarotti with her daughter Alice, the DJ and producer Martin Garrix. As with any date, the audience was asked to wear dress for special occasions: men in black and women in formal wear. Mobile phones are strictly forbidden, sealed in bags, because the show – born from the book “Surrender, 40 Songs, One Story” – will be filmed. Two small armchairs in one corner, a table and four chairs in the middle. In the background are projected drawings showing skyscrapers, parents’ faces and the yellow house where U2 rehearsed.
On stage are Gemma Doherty (harp and keyboards), Kate Ellis (cello) and producer Jacknife Lee (music director and electronic percussion). When Bono arrives, the first of many standing ovations is triggered. Round glasses, striped waistcoat, dark jacket: “Hello, welcome”, he says in Italian, “Naples, the city of champions”. The show is a declaration of love. To his wife Ali and his four children (“You saved me from myself”); at U2, other musical forays: Larry (“I thought: His indoor thunder is gonna bring down the walls of the house”), The Edge (“He could play whatever he wanted”), Adam (“Rock trailer. That he didn’t. I knew how to play, but I didn’t know how to sing.”
Bono looks like a skilled actor, he jumps on the table, moves chairs, imitates characters. The scene where the quartet introduce themselves to the “Winston Churchill of rock” is hilarious, manager Paul McGuinness (“Did God call you to tell you to stop? Can you tell him you’re on tour in the USA?”) He interprets himself and his father at laconic meetings in the pub. “I told him: Pavarotti called me. And he: He must have been given the wrong number.” Life and death are closely linked when, in 2016, his “eccentric heart” was in danger of stopping. And then the homages to the Ramones, to the great Luciano (“Thank you, Maestro”), the memory of Lady D. Scattered between one story and the other, sometimes only hinted at (Iris, for the mother), the songs are spiced up again .
There is no band, but Vertigo, City of Blinding Lights, With Or Without You do not lose strength. There is a good portion of Bono’s life in Stories of Capitulation, Sunday Bloody Sunday and Pride that showcases humanitarian engagement. He speaks of his meeting with John Paul II: “A goalkeeper in his youth who became a goalscorer.” It was our Victor Osimhen.’ Relentless Desire and Beautiful Day appear. “I have to surrender to the songs they tell me,” he says.