‘GET BACK’ — COLOURING IN THE GAPS
Anyone who has ever been in a band, or anywhere near bands, in and out of studios, and green rooms, and practice halls would surely have got something out of this refreshingly honest film. It is at turns both astonishing and sometimes a little tedious, but in the end emerges as a triumphal vindication of the long form.
Incredibly moving in places for it’s simple unpretentiousness and the way it captures the rawness of the uncomfortable awkward distance opening up between friends. Despite that deep deep bond of a band of brothers who had not only conquered the world, but done so with love and a lightness of touch that in it’s own way showed just as much bravery as Tolkien’s gang, it emerges as a tribute to the pain involved in maintaining that unity of purpose.
It is fashionable and easy to be cynical about The Beatles now that everyone has coloured in the gaps, but this chance to look at those who created the outline reminds you that even if you choose to scribble all over it, or rip it up, you can not ignore it’s importance. Many documentaries claim to be fly on the wall but while flies may see a multi faceted view of the world, they have never been renowned for anything even approaching an average attention span, and this is like a meditation.
There is even at this point at the end of their journey so much depth and importantly perspective, to not just the material The Beatles were writing, but also their approach to it, and the idea of always creating and fashioning something new rather than the slavish adherence to trying to be ‘authentic’ or true to someone else’s music, was still important to them.
The gaps are so crucial. That space we are now no longer afforded now everything has been coloured in. The gaps between these four working class lads and the posh boys with the cameras. The gaps in between the intimacy of their relationship and the vast sound stage. The chasm between The Beatles revulsion at Enoch Powell and Eric Clapton’s endorsement of his racist bullshit.
It looks beautiful. The softness of the shadows and the real non LED lights. The unobtrusive long podium mounted camera with an attention span unlike that of a mobile phone that lets you sit down in the room with them. Amazing lightness of touch on the technical front to convert from the 16mm stock.
As a producer, photographer, film maker, musician, hanger on, engineer, having spent innumerable hours with bands and musicians in similar situations it is beautiful that a band of this kind of magnitude of influence has presented a writing and rehearsal period in such a complete way. It feels like a real privilege to see songs push their still wet heads out into the world.
To witness the then Linda Eastman, and Yoko Ono, just chatting away together and the band pissing about playing each others instruments in-between some seriously proper no bullshit work ethic. It looks leisurely, but there is an intensity burning underneath that is revealed in the brilliance of the arrangements emerging. Very touching to see McCartney almost distraught that he may seem to sound like he is chastising George, when you can see everything he and the others do really is for the band. Their gang. Their dream. Their vision.
Part two like a difficult second album is a harder watch and loses it’s way a bit in the middle,a but by the end it picks up steam again and when the plan to play on the roof is revealed, the lighting up of Mccartney’s eyes that had wet with tears earlier in this episode, is a lovely catch. It is that youthful exuberance again , the gang with a plan recaptured in four men who at this point had done so much, whilst still only in their late twenties.
It is great to again see the seeds of songs unfurling, sometimes nervously and at first stubborn, and then more meandering ways. McCartney seems almost apologetic about the grandeur of ‘Let it be’, happy to belt it out in it’s truncated form but unsure of where to go with it, or how to craft it into something more than the sum of it’s parts.
The engineer Glyn Johns does a sterling job in a challenging situation and it is easy to underestimate how crucial he is when George Martin and Phil Spector etc arguably have the fun end of the bargain, whist Glyn lays the groundwork. The rudimentary nature of the technology used is easy to forget, but the creativity and inventiveness used to fashion solutions is nearly always overlooked.
It is also the role of engineers, producers, roadies, managers and other support staff to provide a sounding board against which to bounce ideas and to burst the bubble that can suffocate bands. Especially when they are a group of friends who have been together since their early teens, with their own language and communication.
Lennon alludes to this in part one when he re-iterates how he sees the TV show as an opportunity for communication (and his insistence in later interviews and work that first person music was so important to him seems to confirm it) and you can see how difficult communication had become between band mates throughout this period. Watch his pain as McCartney sings his ‘Strawberry Fields’ lines in part 3.
The arrival of Billy Preston really seemed to help burst that bubble a bit and inject a shot of calm and positive tonic, into what had threatened to become quite a toxic cocktail. That the band were happy and able to so easily absorb a ‘fifth Beatle’ into the group spoke volumes about how much the ego thing of either McCartney or Lennon has always been exaggerated by some sections of the press. It also demonstrates the unpretentiousness and playfulness of a band in a studio knowing how to play in the best sense of the word.
Being able to lampoon themselves, each other and some of the greatest songs from their catalogue, but then being able to instantly switch into performance mode, and then focus enough to build upon earlier takes in trying to build a solid and coherent arrangement that improves on everything played before. It is that ambition, willingness to stretch and challenge themselves and professionalism that sets them apart.
The pay-off is to aim to create something, including a live performance at the end, that is celebratory and not just perfunctual. Made at a time when their own relevance was being called into question with such an abundant proliferation of fantastic music around them. By the third film you can at times feel your enthusiasm start to wane until you spot a Pre ‘Dark side of the Moon’ Alan Parsons, or the calendar to performance day ticking
down.
The appearance of the old Bill helps drag out the final hour, especially when tour manager Mal and others employ every delaying tactic in the book. Funniest when the local police sergeant finally turns up and the receptionist tells the very polite chap, that yes, he can go up in the lift but don’t step on the roof as there may be too many there all ready, and it might not take his weight. Ha!
You can see how universally loved they were despite the supposed 30 complaints in 30 minutes ,and it is again very powerful to know you are witnessing as the film ends, not just their last live performance together, but the end of a fantastic chapter in popular culture.
