Not so fast: Reynolds’ partner-in-crime is Tyler Glenn, fellow Mormon and fellow sensitive rock god (of the Neon Trees), though one who was forced to leave the church after coming out. Alas, Glenn doesn’t get as many Spotify clicks. And so we’re mostly stuck with Reynolds — an affable fellow but certainly not one to deflect criticism over Believer’s old-school insistence that viewers won’t care about queer issues without a hetero guide.
A better doc would have used its superstar lead as a linchpin, structuring it so that he’s absorbed into the cause, gradually upstaged by those directly affected by sanctioned bigotry. Instead, director Don Argott (of the more dynamic music docs Rock School and Last Days Here) fills the running time with borderline Akermanesque mundanity: Reynolds making calls in his car, logging onto Skype, staging domestic scenes for the camera, weeping over his own heroism. And then, after all this, our reward is we have to listen to Imagine Dragons?