Eight hours of incredible closeness to the Beatles, in their present, very human humans: this is the fabulous gift given to us, fans as much as planets and audiences of all ages, the mage-director Peter Jackson. Yes, oh yes, mission more than accomplished: thanks to him, we understand. We hear. We see. We aknowledge.
There is this key moment, in the third segment of the documentary series The Beatles: Get Back, where we have once and for all the answer to the question: why the Beatles? It’s a moment that could happen in Hamburg in 1960, at the Liverpool Cavern in 1961, at the Ed Sullivan Show in 1964, at the packed Shea Stadium in 1965, at the EMI studio in June 1967 when the Beatles sang. All You Need Is Love live, relayed by satellite to the whole world.
It takes place at lunchtime on January 30, 1969, in the staircase leading to the roof of 3, Savile Row, the building occupied by Apple, the Beatles company, in the heart of London’s business district. It’s a moment when the four blustery boys are suddenly very scared. Even Paul McCartney doubts. Michael Lindsay-Hogg, the filmmaker who has been filming the Beatles almost daily since the beginning of January, is ready to cancel everything. Floating. Silence of death. And then John Lennon launches the advienne that will be able, the to God goes: ” Fuck it – let’s go do it! “
And the other three follow him. As in the days when, at each step towards success, Lennon asked: “Where are we going, companions?” “And the companions replied, like Musketeers or the Normandy landings:” At the top! To the top! “” What summit, companions? “” To the toppemost of the poppermost! “
The big finding
This is the great observation that the documentary series of Jackson allows: the Beatles are still and always the Beatles when they are in the same room, and John Lennon remains the founder and the leader of the group. Even when he only has eyes for Yoko Ono, it shows and it’s really beautiful to see: the others admire him, laugh at each play on words as on the first day of their meeting.
This comes true in the opening minutes of the first of three parts, set in the cold, cavernous movie studios of Twickenham: Lennon-style humor is already king. A disciple of Krishna appears on the screen, motionless. No doubt invited by George Harrison, we say to ourselves. ” Who’s that little old man? John asks, quoting a scene from the movie. A Hard Day’s Night, shot in part in the same location, five years earlier. Paul McCartney seizes the reference to the flight and gives the following reply: ” He’s very clean! »Laughter in connivance. Same pleasurable feeling when they start to parody their “old” successes: Help!, Please Please Me thus pass to the mill of the déconnade in rule. Left to their own devices, the 1969 Beatles were as funny as they’ve ever been. It was their favorite way to communicate.
Never have we been able to understand so much the relationship between these four young people who have not yet reached their thirties in January 1969, but have lived together so many exceptional events. They are combat veterans, ghosts from the front that show the perfectly palpable images of Peter Jackson (from the 60 hours of filming of Michael Lindsay-Hogg). Seasoned, scarred, funny again and again: humans with scars, who know each other inside out and inside out. Who are knitted. Greenhouse.
An essential documentary series, not without reason
Why do we see it so clearly now, when we already had the movie Let it be, in 1970, edited and directed by Lindsay-Hogg from the same filmed sessions? Because then it was impossible. The miracle of Jackson’s documentary series is technological, in addition to benefiting from the hindsight of a fresh look. In 80 minutes, the 1970 film is a quick pick-up of what Lindsay-Hogg considered relevant and not too bad. Drinking takes of new songs, a little rock’n’roll joy, the best of impromptu rooftop show. How could he do better?
The New Zealand director had the time and the means to make all the right decisions: the chronological approach, one day at a time over a period of 21 days, allows you to see, hear and understand so much. We have time to see the songs born, evolve, then find their best form. Others are abandoned along the way, still others are hardly touched. Jackson makes us live, in the present, the process of creation. Like never before. We see how everyone contributes, openness to suggestions. We see the Beatles in Beatles mode.
Get to know each of the Beatles better
Not only is McCartney bursting with songs, he’s almost always seen playing. At the piano, other ideas emerge. You have to see him “invent” Another day, The Back Seat Of My Car, marvels in the making that will lead to his solo records. The work of Jackson’s team takes them out of the background: the digital “demixing” process, improved expressly for the series, makes it possible to isolate each source (conversations, singing, instrument, ambient noise) and redistribute in the sound space, which makes eminently audible (and pleasant) what was often irritating, in the long run, on bootlegs.
On this one can wonder if Jackson has not gone too far: when he needs a sentence said by one or the other, he sometimes falls silent around it. It’s convenient for the story to be told, but less natural to the eye. We had to choose, we understand. We gain much more than we lose, let’s face it.
Ringo perfect, George smiling
Ringo’s playing is always impeccable and appropriate: the film allows both his own creativity (so many variations in the rhythms and bearings, it’s crazy!) And his patience to be measured. One could not imagine before Jackson his ability to meet the demands of the other three. Everyone tells him how to play. He always manages to satisfy by finding his way. No one will come out of the eight hours of viewing without having understood his strategy, which is naturally brilliant.
George Harrison smiles more often than not: astonishment, there too. We imagined him chomping at the bit, even grumbling, but we see him simply pragmatic in front of the rather eccentric proposals of McCartney or Lindsay-Hogg, even of Lennon. But when it comes time to play, his degree of concentration hits the screen. He looks for the right line, applies himself to complement. His temporary resignation is certainly the great moment of crisis in the series, but it is done calmly. He’s fed up with the endless and unresolved debate around an increasingly improbable venue, that’s all. When he returns, it’s on his terms: better recording conditions (Apple’s basement), no show or TV Special up for grabs. He’s the one who brings in Billy Preston. You have to see the scene of his arrival: Ray Charles’ keyboardist is a groove on two legs, a permanent smile, and we celebrate him.
The McCartney method unveiled
The series, in its chronological form, also shows how skillful Paul McCartney adapts to what is going on. He begins by proposing, proposing, proposing, pushing his intentions to the extreme, and then, depending on the reactions, backing down, rallying to the majority, and even finding arguments against what he was proposing. If he first complains about not writing with John as much as before because there is Yoko in his place, he is the first to defend the lovers and their bias to be together at all. moments (until the little corner …). You have to see him arrive most often before the others (since he lives in London), and rework Oh ! Darling each morning. Happiness of the Jackson approach: we lose very few of these moments which, harmless on paper, are absolutely precious. When Paul plays, it’s always good. At one point he sings a piece of Strawberry Fields Forever on the piano, without thinking, for fun: it’s absolutely beautiful. Music made man.
And in the end, that’s what matters most during the series’ 468 minutes. The Beatles sing, play, create, chat, debate, laugh, and as much as we are in front of our screens, we are now privileged witnesses of their internal management, of their complex relational fabric, and at the forefront when – often, often ! – there are sparks of genius that spring up. How lucky we are, 52 years later, to step into Peter Jackson’s marvelous time machine: ladies, gentlemen and non-gendered, here are the Beatles. Now.