Get Some

Across the social media I frequent, a huge number of the posts in the past few days have been about the Peter Jackson-directed documentary, Get Back. I've gone around and around with my own thoughts about the three-part, eight-hour film (and I've seen dozens upon dozens of other people's takes), and I've landed here: more than any other movie I can think of, this is a Rorschach test as a film. I don't necessarily mean that you'll find in it whatever preconceived notions you bring to it (though that is certainly a part of it), but that what you see in it is unique, not "wrong," and probably illuminating of something about yourself. So time to expose my own psyche a little, I guess, and tell you what I see.

It is very, very good. And too damn long.

Right away, I'm exposing what level of Beatles fan I am, I'm sure. I have absolutely no doubt that there are people who will lap up all eight hours of this, wish there had been more, and content themselves by starting it all over again. And why not? If I could watch, say, an eight-hour documentary of the making of... Back to the Future -- that actually focused on the making of the movie the entire time, was stuffed full of early takes (including loads of Eric Stoltz footage), and really showed every detail of the creative process and how the magic was made? You bet I'd eat that up and pine for more.

But to me, there is so much dead space in this documentary that maximum enjoyment can only be had watching it a "day or two" at a time. (The film chronicles the 22-day period of the "Get Back sessions," devoting 10-30 minutes to each day.) I certainly don't think you could sweat this down to a conventional movie's run time -- and I'd wager the attempt to do so is part of what made the original Let It Be movie (also made from this footage) so famously bad. But could I cut two to three hours from this and personally feel that nothing of consequence was lost? You bet.

Except... going back to that Rorschach thesis: my "trash" here is probably someone else's "treasure." I don't want to hear Yoko Ono audition as a car alarm, hear the 30th run at "Dig a Pony," watch them noodle on a stylophone for two minutes, or hear snippets of 50 different songs by other artists (would 20 be good enough?). Yet you can easily argue that all of that stuff is a key part of exposing the creative process -- any creative process. Paul McCartney's apparent creation of the song "Get Back" to perhaps 80% completion in the span of three minutes is impressive because it is very much not the norm. Seeing just how much time and tape the band "wastes" in the pursuit of their album is necessary to presenting an accurate picture of the process; to say how much is appropriate is probably quibbling over details.

Many viewers and critics have also said that a benefit in showing so much "down time" in this documentary is that it shows that the Beatles in this late period were not as acrimonious as many (even the surviving Beatles themselves) had believed. That's true to a degree, with highlights including the footage of the Maharishi retreat, John and Paul playing a song like ventriloquists for the hell of it, and the clear joy all of them show when Billy Preston arrives on the scene.

But another aspect of the Rorschach test emerges. I watch, and see Ringo Starr as the only one of the four who is reliably professional at all times. I see John quite disengaged some 75% of the time they're not working on one of his songs. I see no one taking much of an interest in numerous George Harrison proto-songs that would go on to be huge, instead continuing to drive at far less promising embryonic Paul/John tunes. (No one is going to defend Maxwell's Silver Hammer, right?) I see Paul irritating just about everyone at different points of the process other than the famous "George quits" confrontation... and why wouldn't he? No one else other than quiet, unflappable Ringo seems to care if anything gets finished. I see, in short, the inevitable end here, even amid the many moments of joy.

Even if I personally might have cut this tighter than Peter Jackson (who has a license to make long-winded trilogies), he and the team he made this with deserve a great deal of praise. The audio and video restoration on this old footage is jaw-droppingly, impossibly good. Without all the smoking and way everyone is dressed, you'd never know this stuff was 50 years old -- most of it looks and sounds like it could have been filmed this year.

And the presentation of the climactic rooftop concert is perfect. Liberal use of split screen serves to (seemingly) remove the editorial hand completely. You almost never wish they'd chosen this camera angle or that one, shown this performer or that performer... because it's ALL there on screen. You choose which panel you want to watch (or re-watch, if you're inclined), and see whatever you want to see. (The Rorschach test element, once again.) You even get to see the idiots complaining to stop the last live Beatles performance ever. (Can you imagine?)

For me, the stretches of... well, I have to call it "boredom," I think... in this documentary lower it to a B overall. For me personally. At the same time, I wouldn't begrudge anyone who thinks this is the best movie of 2021. But unless you hate the Beatles (seriously?), it's worth checking out at least some snippets of it.