Review
Belief
Culture
Music
5 min read

Mumford & Sons search for meaning

Wonder about which love they sing of - earthly or divine.

Steve is news director of Article 18, a human rights organisation documenting Christian persecution in Iran.

A band lounge around.
Pondering the reviews.
Mumford & Sons

My old RE teacher always liked to make the point that meaning can be found in anything, if you want to find it.  

“Do you find meaning in a sunset?” he’d ask. “Or only beauty?” 

From the outset of Mumford & Sons’ new record, ‘Rushmere’, the deeper things, as ever, are front and centre - at least for those of us who wish to find them. 

The folk band’s records have always been replete with religious undertones - lead man Marcus Mumford is the son of a preacher, don’t you know? - and they are apparent from the very start of the band’s fifth studio album and first since 2018. 

‘Rushmere’ kicks off with ‘Malibu’, which speaks of finding “peace beneath the shadow of your wings”, and an unnamed “you” being “all I want” and “all I need”. 

There’s even talk, right at the beginning of the song, of feeling “the spirit move in me again - the same spirit that moves in you”.  

Precisely which spirit is meant is never defined - these are song lyrics, after all, not a sermon - but for this listener at least, the reference to the third member of the Trinity appears clear. 

Not every song on the album hits such obvious religious notes, but the opening track is far from unique. Indeed, one needs only to flick through the names of the other songs to get a hint of the deeper meanings on offer, with titles such as ‘Truth’, ‘Anchor’ and ‘Surrender’. 

Meanwhile, in ‘Monochrome’, we’re told that even within a hyacinth can “life”, “restoration” - even “Christ” - be found.  

Could the “out of sight” monochrome “beyond reason” that we are called to contemplate represent the Christ - in theological terms, the “Word” of God - whose fingerprints can be seen across Creation? 

And what is meant when Mumford sings that “the kind of love that I’m always chasing is the kind of love that won’t be chased?”  

As with many of the band’s lyrics, there appears space for both a romantic and religious reading, though perhaps romance is harder to read into metaphors such as a “cup running dry”, as Mumford sings elsewhere in ‘Monochrome’.  

Is it only me for whom this evokes memories of the old Sunday school refrain: “Fill up my cup and let it overflow”? 

‘Truth’, meanwhile, begins with the fairly blunt statement: “I was born to believe the truth is all there is.”  

“Oh my love, hold me fast,” the song ends, and again we are left to wonder about which love he is singing - earthly or divine. 

It isn’t made clear whether such belief remains intact today, nor even which truth is meant, given that we now live in times where such things seem occasionally grey. But ‘Surrender’ appears more black and white, speaking of being brought to one’s knees, “broken” then “put back together”, and “held in the promise of forever”.   

“I surrender, I surrender now,” Mumford cries - words Christian congregations have sung for centuries. 

And as ever with a Mumford & Sons record, ‘Rushmere’ doesn’t hold back from the trickier theological issues, touching upon the concepts of both hell and original sin. 

“Let your anger go to hell,” ‘Where It Belongs,’ Mumford sings in the track of the same name, which is sung like a lament, while in the final track, ‘Carry On’, those of us who believe in original sin are encouraged to consider that “there’s no evil in a child’s eye”. 

“It was made, and it was good,” Mumford sings in a nod to the Creation story, when the world was blemish-free. 

Meanwhile, in ‘Anchor’, Mumford sings that he “can’t say he’s sorry if he’s always on the run from the Anchor”. Which for some of us, at least, will conjure recollection of part of the Bible’s Book of Hebrews that speaks of our “hope” - Jesus - being “an anchor for the soul, firm and secure”. 

“Oh my love, hold me fast,” the song ends, and again we are left to wonder about which love he is singing - earthly or divine. 

Fans of Mumford & Sons - and yes, you’ve guess it, I count myself among them - will recognise that particular phrase from a previous hit, ‘Hopeless Wanderer’, which again seemed to speak to a life of faith; of pilgrims “called by name” trying “so hard to live in the truth”, but being “prone to wander”, as it says in the hymn ‘Come Thou Fount’, which Mumford has also been known to perform. 

So this is not the first Mumford & Sons album to have contained such imagery. Far from it. For those of us who’ve followed the band since their debut album, ‘Sigh No More’, in 2009, there have always been calls to ‘Awake My Soul’ or to find comfort in a future day in which there will be “no more tears.”  

In the years since, we have been encouraged to be ‘Lover[s] of the Light’, or to find hope in a ‘Guiding Light’ who won’t ‘Slip Away’ in the night. 

Perhaps, then, there’s nothing very different about ‘Rushmere’ - it represents just another chapter on a journey of faith - but this particular fan continues to appreciate, deeply, the depth that Mumford and his bandmates continue to bring to our ears.  

And as for the music, well I suppose by now that most readers will probably be familiar with what one can expect from a Mumford & Sons album, and ‘Rushmere’ certainly doesn’t disappoint those of us who like that kind of thing. 

It’s notably shorter than the previous album - nearly half the length - but is probably no worse for it. It’s hard to think of a weak song on the album, while there is something for everyone: from the country feel of ‘Caroline’ (think Counting Crows/Ryan Adams) and rock and roll of ‘Truth’, to the gentle fingerpicking and harmonies of ‘Monochrome’. Heck, the banjos even make a comeback on the self-titled ‘Rushmere’, so truly something for everyone - or at least for all of us fans.   

By the way, my old RE teacher never told us what he believed, but I later found out that he’d once been ordained, so I suppose that he, like me, might still find meaning in a sunset or even, perhaps, a Mumford & Sons record.

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Review
Culture
Film & TV
5 min read

Captain America's impossible task

Brave New World struggles despite some acting heroics.
Captain America crouches expectantly beside his shield
Ready for the next review.
Marvel Studios.

Captain America: Brave New World is the thirty-fifth film in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU), and the fourth film focusing on the character of Captain America. It’s also something of a sequel to a passible Marvel TV series. There is so much baggage, so much lore, so much build-up to this film; a production which has the unhappy task of honouring the seventeen years of previous storytelling, setting up plot points that can be explored in future films, and giving us a satisfactory stand-alone cinematic spectacle. I wouldn’t wish such a burden on anyone – an impossible task. 

Brave New World sees Sam Wilson fully inhabiting the role of superhero Captain America, a mantle bestowed on him by his friend and original Captain, super soldier Steve Rogers. Still doubtful of his worthiness and abilities, he seeks to wield the Vibranium Shield with style. He is sent on a mission to retrieve a stolen military secret from a group of mercenaries. He does so – with a few decent action set pieces – and is rewarded with an invitation to the White House.  

The newly elected President, General Thaddeus ‘Thunderbolt’ Ross, is seeking to shed his past reputation as a warmonger by negotiating an international peace treaty. A newly discovered resource has the capability of changing the face of medicine, technological innovation, and especially warfare. Every great power covets it, and Ross wants to foster collaboration for the betterment of the planet. The gala event is ruined when Sam’s friend Isaiah Bradley, a super soldier from the Koren War who was wrongly imprisoned, goes all Manchurian Candidate and shoots at the President. 

The peace treaty is in jeopardy. The President’s inner circle is compromised. There are secrets and lies that will not stay buried. There is a shadowy villain operating behind the scenes, determined to destroy the President’s reputation. Only one man can fight for truth, justice, and the American way: Captain America. 

This is as much as I can say without spoiling the entire film. 

Not that it would matter. The film is a bit of a mess.  

Sam is proposed as an underdog (having not actual superpowers, only a suit of armour), but is shown to be essentially indestructible…he literally disables a missile by flying into it headfirst. There is no sense of tension or risk. This is not helped by lacklustre action and some genuinely appalling CGI. The plot is all over the place – a result of some rather obvious reshoots featuring green screen that even the most amateur filmmaker could’ve improved. Most of the secondary storylines peter out. New characters and introduced and given almost no personality or progression. 

The script compensates for this by giving characters long monologues where they deliver clunky plot exposition and background information. This was inevitable. To understand the plot and characters requires one to have been a careful watcher of the previous films and television shows. I was somewhat impressed how the film managed to give a gentle introduction to the casual viewer, but it is very much at the expense of pacing and character development. 

All of this is a great shame, as the performances are rather good. Anthony Mackie has always been a magnetic screen presence and manages to combine both charisma and pathos is an uncharacteristically restrained performance. Tim Blake Nelson enjoys himself as the puppet-master villain, oozing bile and sympathy in equal measure. Every minor friend and villain delivers their lines with real feeling. Bloody hell…even lovable grump Harrison Ford looks like he’s actually trying as President Ross. 

Unfortunately, no amount of charisma can make up for a film that has no sense of itself. The shambles of a plot is matched by the shambles of a theme; a sadness, as there is so much potential. Sam Wilson is one of only a handful of black superheroes, and his friendship with Isaiah Bradley is partly based on their shared experience of race and discrimination in the face of honour and duty. This was introduced in the TV show and could’ve been explored further. Sam’s lack of superpowers could have been explored, had he been put in positions of genuine peril. His sense of inadequacy and overwhelming responsibility are mentioned, only to be quickly dismissed with a pep-talk from a throwaway cameo character. The concepts of conspiracy and disillusionment with authority are hinted at, but they formed the thematic thread of the previous three Captain America films, and when this film does approach them, it is by echoing the better storytelling of previous films. 

There is one plot thread, one theme running through the story, which goes some way to redeeming the film. President Ross is haunted by his past. A patriot, a soldier, and tireless worker for American security, Ross has a past littered with sins and mistakes. His anger, his bullishness, his obstinacy (physically manifested at the end of the film), has left him all alone. His daughter doesn’t trust him, Sam doesn’t trust him, and his international partners don’t trust him. He is seeking to become a better man, working towards cooperation rather than force and violence. However, his past life and secrets continue haunt him and stall his progress at self-improvement. 

In the end, by being open and honest and taking responsibility for his mistakes, Ross does achieve a certain amount of peace. He is able to be the figure of nobility and unity that he longs to be by sacrificing his power and prestige, and truly atoning for his misdeeds. Despite all the problems with the film, this (admittedly underdeveloped) bit of character study kept me engaged. Perhaps it was Harrison Ford’s performance. Perhaps it was because we’re approaching Lent, when Christians make an extra effort to acknowledge their past mistakes and resolve to do better. Whatever it was, it furnished the film with a truly sympathetic and improving theme. I wouldn’t spend money in the cinema, but wouldn’t mind seeing it in the TV guide in the future. 

2.5 stars. 

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