Beatles ’64
(USA, 106 min.)
Dir. David Tedeschi
The Beatles may have only been together 10 years, but the documentary output about the music of John, Paul, George, and Ringo, and the cultural phenomenon of which it was a part, is seemingly endless. Add the concentric circles of the Fab Four’s entourage and the Beatles Cinematic Universe knows no bounds. In November, for example, a film about “fifth Beatle” Billy Preston debuted, mere months after a restoration of the 1970 doc Let It Be. Beatlemania, it seems, never dies.
One could say what’s old is new again. However, perhaps more than any group, the Beatles never went out of style. Even if one’s heard the song before, it doesn’t get old.
It helps, too, that documentary was having its own revolution that coincided with Beatlemania. Back in 1964, when the Fab Four was crossing the pond for the first time, filmmakers in the USA and Canada were pioneering the cinéma vérité movement in parallel with filmmakers in France. Key to this observational style, which was made immediate by handheld cameras and portable recording technology, were, of course, brothers Albert Maysles and David Maysles.
Beatles ’64 features newly restored and some never-before-seen footage that the Maysles shot during the Beatles’ inaugural visit to the States. What distinguishes the footage of Beatles ’64, some of which appeared in the Maysles’ 1964 doc What’s Happening! The Beatles in the U.S.A., is the palpable energy that drives every frame. Taking a cue from the NFB doc Lonely Boy (1962) and vérité docs like Primary (1960), the latter of which Albert shot, Beatles ’64 captures the buzz of Beatlemania. The fans’ high-pitched screams are remastered and remixed to ear-drum shattering perfection here as director David Tedeschi and producer Martin Scorsese bring music history back to the present tense.
Beatles ’64 features a reported 17 minutes of footage that didn’t make the cut in the Maysles’ original doc. Moreover, everything’s restored gorgeously by Peter Jackson’s WingNut Studios, which heralded a new wave of Beatlemania on Disney+ with the equally eye-catching doc series Beatles: Get Back.
This doc adds to the growing body of restored and remixed Beatles’ lore: nothing really tops the rooftop concert of Get Back, but the restored Maysles’ footage combined with Scorsese and Tedeschi’s hands merits a look, even for audiences feeling music doc fatigue. Non-fiction fans tiring of music docs might get a second wind here as the 16mm footage reminds a viewer why the genre continues to prove as popular as the Beatles. Nobody shot history in the making quite like the Maysles, and their Beatles’ footage ranks among the best material captured of the group.
Beatles ’64 chronicles the frenzy that welcomed the band as they arrived in the States at a moment of change. The film tells how they landed in America mere months after the assassination of John F. Kennedy, and at a time of revolution and unrest as the civil rights movement fought for progress. Tedeschi and Scorsese expand upon the well-known ethos behind those fans’ frenzied excitement. They track down faces from the crowds from the Maysles ’64 footage and invite them to revisit the onset of Beatlemania. The excitement remains electric as Beatles fans remember something in the air.
Fans recall the energy leading up to the Beatles’ landmark performance on The Ed Sullivan Show. They share memories about a TV event eclipsed only by the moon landing for a generation. Just as good as the Maysles’ footage, too, are images from the homes of Beatles’ fans. For example, Jamie Bernstein, daughter of maestro Leonard Bernstein, looks back on the night she took charge of family dinner and dragged the family TV into the dining room. Bernstein adds that she knew the Ed Sullivan broadcast was history in the making, and that it was too important to miss. Ditto still frames from a working class family in which the daughters watch the TV transfixed. Their dad, meanwhile, is seated further back in the frame. His expression is one of curiosity with a hint of confusion. He doesn’t quite the hype, but is a hip dad for trying.
But the interviewees share a sense of catharsis: having something positive to rally around did America good after JFK’s assassination. The fans and Beatles alike—both Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr appear in new interviews—reflect upon the words of affirmation in their lyrics that connected songs with fans. There’s also a delightfully bizarre interview with filmmaker David Lynch, who waxes about the heart-popping bliss of Beatles’ music. It’s just about the strangest interview to appear in a music doc—it’s prototypically Lynchian, almost Herzoggian in its poetic weirdness—but an apt encapsulation of the euphoric effect the Beatles had on fans’ brain chemistry.
Tedeschi and Scorsese, a regular presence in the contemporary footage, underscore the positive impact of the Beatles through concerts. Shows in Washington D.C. and Miami Beach that followed the Ed Sullivan appearance offer more screaming fans wailing in ecstasy at the sight of four dapper dudes bopping on stage. Sound engineer Giles Martin mixes and restores this material especially well. The high-pitched frequency of fans’ delight benefits from contemporary remastering.
Moreover, the consideration of fandom resonates especially as Taylor Swift winds down her Eras tour, evoking memories of Beatlemania wherever she goes. This doc’s a reward for all the parents who braved The Eras Tour in person or on film. Both docs could bridge generational divides and inspire parents and their kids to be more forgiving of musical tastes. Call 1964 “The Beatles Era.”
Where Beatles ’64 proves most interesting, though, is in its look outside Beatlemania. An interview with Ronnie Spector early in the film sees the Ronettes’ singer remember the event. She tells how the Ronettes visited the Beatles’ hotel and helped them escape the throngs of fans. Spector says she brought them to Harlem where they could chow down on ribs and barbeque without worry. Nobody in Harlem, Spector says, recognized the Beatles or cared if they did. It’s a nice humanising story about these young celebrities. But it’s also a telling account of the racial divides in cultural consciousness.
Like many music docs, Beatles ’64 considers how music bridges races and cultures. Interviewees like Smokey Robinson, for example, talk about shared influences and visibility. But especially humorous is 16mm footage of interviews on the streets of Harlem being asked about the Beatles. Some of the girls love them, but most of the passersby say they don’t give a toot about the Beatles. They prefer Coltrane.
Lennon grasps this complexity of Beatlemania in an archival interview that closes the film. No one band defines a generation. He says the Beatles were on the same ship as the Rolling Stones and company—they just spotted America first. The rest is history—toe-tapping, ageless history.
