Pitchfork

In I Am Sam, Sean Penn plays a retarded man who loves the Beatles. There's only one (other) problem: he's losing custody of his seven-year old daughter, Lucy Diamond Dawson. From what I've heard about the film-- and I haven't seen it, because life's too short-- Penn continually quotes Beatles lyrics and tells anecdotes about the band. So the natural tie-in is a soundtrack album of Beatles songs. Of course, licensing the original songs would have been prohibitively expensive, so in lieu of John, Paul, George and Ringo, this disc features Fab Four covers by seventeen artists and bands, mostly pooled from contemporary pop charts and adult alternative radio.

Because these recordings were made for the film, they can't really be faulted for sticking pretty closely to the originals and eschewing any wild interpretations. After all, these bands aren't competing with the Beatles' versions; they're attempting to replicate the songs in a manner which not only suits the film, but also remains accessible to the general public. Not that they're winning any points with us for that, but it does shed some light on why these songs turned out the way they did.

While it's true that many great musicians have recorded powerful and creative interpretations of this music, the bulk of Beatles covers have been little more than slavish imitations. And of course, that's what we end up with here. Most of the performers on I Am Sam lean on the Beatles' arrangements and never bring anything unexpected to the table. Sarah McLachlan faithfully runs through "Blackbird" on an acoustic guitar; Eddie Vedder echoes the weary tone in Lennon's voice on "You've Got to Hide Your Love Away"; Ben Harper's performance of "Strawberry Fields Forever" even recreates the song's string section verbatim.

Granted, the Vines' "I'm Only Sleeping" manages to radiate a little energy, and Ben Folds shows up with a pretty take on "Golden Slumbers" with strong vocals and nice orchestration. But elsewhere, things are pretty dismal. The Black Crowes' faithful but dull rendition of "Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds," and the Wallflowers' middling "I'm Looking Through You" are both painfully prosaic. Chocolate Genius' reworking of "Julia" sounds expensive with its crisp drums, acoustic guitars and rough vocals, but ultimately comes off plastic. And Heather Nova ("We Can Work It Out") and Sheryl Crow ("Mother Nature's Son") are just lousy-- they don't even sing well here.

Interestingly enough, the one band that actually tried to do something inventive with any of these songs flops miserably. Grandaddy's reworking of "Revolution" dumbs the melody down to the band's own standards, with Jason Lytle's colorless, disinterested vocals and extraneous keyboards effects doing little to motivate listeners to the song's namesake. A commendable effort, maybe, but still an ineffective one.

And then there are the highlights. Aimee Mann and Michael Penn turn in a fair reading of "Two of Us," with well-crafted production in place of the stripped-down original. Rufus Wainwright's "Across the Universe" is unremarkable, but at least brings some conviction and earnestness. Paul Westerberg and Howie Day play acoustic versions of "Nowhere Man" and "Help," respectively, and the two songs work well with their back-to-back sequencing. And unexpectedly, Nick Cave actually improves upon Paul McCartney's schmaltzy "Let It Be" with his understated, sincere vocals.

Regardless, these more passable moments are far outnumbered by the boring and/or intolerable ones. Listeners will probably like (and buy) this soundtrack if they dig the big-name performers. All of these artists have their fans-- even Sheryl Crow-- and if you're one of them, you might enjoy this record. After all, it does exactly what it was meant to do. But with the Beatles, that just doesn't cut it.