I saw U2-3D last night. It's only class. That Ticket review nails it - 'there is a remarkable sense of intimacy...'
There are times you don't really notice the 3-D effect but 'there are moments when Bono reaches his hand out so close that you imagine you could shake it, or when he looks likely to prod you in the eye with a mic stand, and when the neck of Adam Clayton's guitar seems to jut out of the screen. When on-screen audience members climb onto each other's shoulders, you instinctively move your head for a better view.' (yeah, even at the cinema my concert stalker turns up, this time in the classic guise of a dumb bint on a bloke's shoulders).
In fact the experience was so exhilarating it was far, far better than the disaster that was the Croke Park gigs in 2005, for a lot less cash. It was very like when I was right up the front at the Montreal gig, and then you get invited up on stage during the set for a nose around! And, just like that gig, Miss Sarajevo brought tears to the eyes.
The whole thing made me fall in love with U2 all over again, as unfashionable as that is. This is a good thing because a) the last two albums have sucked and b) on Friday night I heard the tribute song to Ronnie Drew for the first time. Sweet, sweet Jesus what a crock of shite that is. They should be ashamed of themselves. I saw a bit of the associated cringe-fest on The Late Late Show on Friday night (not updated yet). I went to the pub before I chewed my fist off.
Ronnie Drew looked a bit like Darth Vader unmasked, God help him.