On this blog I have managed to dedicate full written reviews on copious amounts of films both old and new, but never have I dared to venture of documentaries. I’m a narrative man. I like being presented a story that I can pick apart and analyze to death, but I do dabble in documentaries from time to time. One that was always bound to peak my interest was newly edited documentary on the infamous, timeless band, The Beatles. Despite being a kid of the “naughties”, I was heavily exposed to the music of the sixties and seventies, with The Beatles being a constant running throughout the rooms of my childhood home. Though I have always had a great love for the band, it wasn’t until 2018 that I found myself fully immersed in the history an intricacies that surrounded the infamous group. I’ve occasionally shown that obsession on this very blog site with reviews of the bizarre Yellow Submarine and the insightful biopic, Nowhere Boy, but never have I talked about how much their music means to me. The more submerged I’ve become, I find myself one of the few modern Beatles fans. My music tastes have always been much more selective and never matches my peers, but I’ve always enjoyed living in that psychedelic bubbles that mainly appeals to the Gen X’ers. When I saw this documentary, of which unearths never-before-seen footage of the band during their waning days, I was ecstatic at the notion of watching eight hours of pure fan-service. Giving us a glimpse into the real story that surrounded the drama and tension of the band’s recording of the infamous Let It Be album, it sheds more than a little light on what really happened in their last ever live performance and their last few weeks as the Liverpool band that climbed to immense stardom. From Peter Jackson, this is The Beatles: Get Back.
This documentary acts as something of an expansion to the feature documentary, Let It Be, which was filmed as a way of giving the public a personal look at the band recording their last album. The original film was purposely disingenuous, portraying Paul as an unsung hero with a huge ego and largely omitted scenes involving John Lennon and Yoko Ono. Jackson’s documentary unearths much of the unused footage that tells a much different story. We see the Fab Four trying to organize their first live performance in over three years in an effort to revitalize much of the passion they had in their early days, going back to basics. With only a few weeks left, due to outside commitments from the individual members, tensions start to arise and it becomes apparent how looming the idea of splitting apart is becoming. Paul tries his best to keep the band stitched together, practically being forced into a managerial role that causes conflict, George grows increasingly disconnected from the band, even quitting and begrudgingly coming back at one point, John is mostly stoned out of his mind and barely functioning, and Ringo is just happy to be there. Despite all the tension, however, there’s plenty of moments that show the band as they are: people. We see the four having a laugh with one another, we see them mocking themselves and the songs they’ve written and we get sincere moments of them helping each other to create the masterful songs that swept over that final album. From their frustrations in trying to organize and outlandish live performance to the wonderful simplicity of that iconic rooftop performance, this documentary does much more than tell us the real story of what happened, it also provides an insightful love letter to the most die-hard of Beatles fans.
I should probably preface this next paragraph by saying that I have never seen the original Let It Be documentary. With the benefit of the modern internet, much of this information that comes from the documentary is common knowledge for the most basic of fans. I always bought into the idea that there was nothing but tension around this time, but the Get Back documentary, a companion piece of sorts, really destroys these pre-conceptions. No doubt, there are plenty of moments of discomfort, like Paul and George arguing over the former’s attempts at controlling the latter’s play-style, or the brief moments where Paul seems on the cusp of blowing out at John, but it’s the more sincere and brotherly moments that stuck out to me. Watching the four guys just practicing their songs and finding their moments to interject and help each other craft these wonderful tunes is never not endearing. One moment in the doc shows Ringo playing a very dense version of Octopus’ Garden, only for George to come over and help him turn it into something with more weight. Despite the clashing of egos between Paul and John, we get plenty of moments with them making jokes and singing bizarre versions of their greatest hits. I also loved the constant visits from outside members. Billy Preston visiting the studio for just a small visit, then becoming a huge contributor during the actual songs added this sense of welcoming that spoke the guys’ scouse origins. The moments with Paul’s wife Linda and her daughter visiting added a surprisingly wholesome element that had me grinning from ear to ear. It’s honestly these nicer and more comforting moments that I took away from the most. These moments easily dispel any rumor that the band hated each other during these weeks.
As nice as these moments are, there is still much tension and drama that pervades throughout much of the documentary. Much more understated than was previously thought, these moments do stand out amongst the general feeling of warmth. The biggest moment comes from George nonchalantly leaving the band after much frustration and is followed by the next day where there is much unknown about whether John would turn up. The look on Paul’s face as he says “and then there were two” is heart-breaking after watching the band acting like brothers in just the two hours that came before it, more so if you take into account the entire legacy that preceded this moment. John being so heavily addicted to heroin at the time whenever you see the camera cut back to him. Through most of it, John seems entirely zoned out and disappears for periods of time with Yoko. Even just watching Paul try his best to keep the energy going can be hard to watch at times, but you can at least admire his dedication. These moments never really undercut those nicer moments I mentioned before, however. Even if you’re not much of a Beatles fan, these moments feel much more organic because of how humanized all of them feel. You don’t see them as the celebrities that everyone knows and respects, you feel as though you’re in the room with them. Even knowing this would be the last time the band was all together before parting ways, I still found myself rooting for them to stick together. I think it feels more uncomfortable because of how natural they all feel.
This documentary did wonders in both dispelling many of the long-time rumors, while also fleshing out much of the thought process that went into organizing this last live performance. All these rumors of George and John getting into a fist-fight over a broken amp is bluntly waved off, with no sign of such a thing happening. Yoko is often blamed for being a huge reason the band broke up, but she’s barely a factor at all, merely floating by, attached to John’s hip and occasionally joining in with the band faffing about. Paul isn’t the egotistical villain that the original documentary tried to convince us of. There is so much content to sift through that there isn’t much time to even think about those disingenuous rumors. The moments that stuck with me were those instances of pure and unequivocal joy that the band exudes. Paul drag the song Get Back out of thin air, simply from waiting around for John to return, and each of the other members decide to join in. I loved seeing the light in Paul’s eyes when the music crew suggests performing on the roof and Ringo and John enthusiastically backing the idea after George was reluctant. The infamous rooftop performance, while I’ve seen it in its entirety before, is wonderfully intercut with shots of the crowds of onlookers simply enjoying the music, and the police officers trying their best to do their jobs and stop the show. But above all that, just seeing these four musical geniuses create some of their most iconic songs in real time is endlessly fascinating. You always feel like your there with the band as they birth these songs into existence. So much of this is accompanied by the brilliant editing, which often cuts away to older performances of the band, giving it a more encompassed feeling that also celebrates their legacy. The editing can often encapsulate the wild eccentricities of these four distinct artists, with sequences that are wild and fast-paced.
As a massive Beatles fan, this is about equal to the ungodly amount of heroin that Lennon injected over this entire album’s lifespan, but if you don’t really have that knowledge of the band’s prior history and are looking for something to educate you on them, this is not the documentary for you. Peter Jackson very clearly crafted this as a love-letter to fans, showing them in as a raw a light as possible. The hours of previously unseen footage will wet the appetite of any Beatles fan, but can feel over-bearing and flat out boring to those who don’t have the interest. I suppose there is something to be gained from just watching these innovative legends create songs in the moment. Everyone knows the band and, at the very least, can respect them, so maybe you’ll enjoy on it on a admirable level, but this is pure, unadulterated drug-fuel for the most hardcore of Beatles fans. While I may not be rushing back to watch it in its entirety, I do find myself re-watching snippets from time to time. If you have any interest in The Beatles and have that Disney+ subscription, (don’t worry, nothing is censored down) then I implore you to check this one out. I’ve got a feeling you’ll love it.
Written review by C. Johnson.