New Documentary ‘Simple Minds: Everything Is Possible’ Chronicles Ambitious Journey of One of the 80s’ Most Iconic Bands (FILM REVIEW)

The new documentary Simple Minds: Everything Is Possible is a thoughtful, kinetic chronicle of a band that’s often been simplified to stadium anthems and one massive John Hughes sync. But under Zoe Graham’s direction, the film resists nostalgia baiting in favor of something more expansive, resulting in a layered portrait of restless ambition, reinvention, and the dualities that define one of Scotland’s most enduring musical exports.

Structured both chronologically and thematically, the film traces Simple Minds from their punk roots in Glasgow’s late-’70s scene through their rise to global superstardom in the ’80s, then into decades of artistic detours and quiet persistence. It’s a familiar arc, but Graham elevates it with a rich blend of archival footage, much of it raw and previously unseen, and newly filmed interviews that dig deeper than the usual rock-doc soundbites.

Frontman Jim Kerr emerges as the anchor of the narrative: charismatic but contemplative, self-aware without being self-congratulatory. His reflections on fame, missteps, and reinvention form the emotional spine of the film. Guitarist Charlie Burchill, the band’s co-founder and Kerr’s lifelong creative foil, offers a quieter presence, but the chemistry between the two, built over four decades of shared vision and volatility, is palpable. Their bond, at times strained and often unspoken, provides some of the documentary’s most moving moments.

What’s most compelling, though, is how Everything Is Possible challenges the reductive narratives often applied to bands of Simple Minds’ era. The film resists casting them as U2’s understudies or ’80s relics. Instead, it gives equal weight to the band’s lesser-known periods, like the atmospheric experiments of Real Life, the Europhile leanings of Neapolis, and the surprisingly vital returns to form in their 2010s releases.

The supporting cast adds texture without overcrowding the frame. Molly Ringwald, Bob Geldof, and Irvine Welsh offer respectful commentary, as do fellow musicians Bobby Gillespie (Primal Scream), Dave Gahan (Depeche Mode), and Sharleen Spiteri (Texas), but the more revealing insights come from producers like Jimmy Iovine and Andy Gillespie. Their recollections, sometimes warm, sometimes bristling, give the film a lived-in complexity. There’s no attempt to rewrite history; tensions are acknowledged, absences are noted, and the band’s shifting dynamic is treated with honesty rather than spin. The only real flaw is that former members seem to be absent from the film and their contributions and exit from the band are told from others’ point of view.

Visually, Graham avoids the over-polished aesthetic of many modern music documentaries. There’s a gritty, tactile feel to the film — handheld cameras trailing the band backstage, grainy Super 8 reels intercut with present-day rehearsal footage. This helps collapse time in a way that suits the band’s own sense of continuity. Their 2022 tour is used not as a triumphant victory lap but as a frame to explore endurance: What does it mean to still be here, still searching, still believing, after all these years?

For longtime fans, the film offers validation and fresh insight. For newcomers, it’s a compelling invitation into a catalog more adventurous than its reputation suggests. More than anything, Everything Is Possible lives up to its title, not as a slogan, but as a worldview. Simple Minds, it turns out, never stopped chasing the horizon. And that, the film argues, might be their greatest achievement.