Yes, there's a graphic childbirth scene; no, this is (contrary to its advertising) not really about the birthpangs of a mega-band. So what's compelling about watching a white British prince of pop living a charmed life, forging a new band in an idyllic French chateau? Try the lively, insightful testimonies of the talented black American musicians-especially the playful and provocative Branford Marsalis. Sting's self-conscious reserve shatters in his "cerebral and visceral" socially conscious compositions. He isn't the savior of pop rock nor of racial justice, but those who knock him for "arrogantly" trying seem to favor the prevalent crop of counterfeit rebels without even a modest cause. In the end Sting, the "milkman's son turned millionaire superstar," is driven by the same doubts as are rasped by the impoverished jazz giant dwelling on the darker side of Paris in 'Round Midnight: Inside do I have left anything to give? You may not care, still Sting is a rhythmic craftsman of superb double-entendre pop songs whose coolly searing vocals send out the S.O.S. in the film's climax performance, "Message in a Bottle." --Vicci Wong