…after staying with Peter Jackson’s 468–minute Beatles doc over a two-day period:

Somewhere during the third or fourth hour I began to feel a little bit Beatle–ed out. But I’d suspected that would happen so it wasn’t a big surprise and I knew I’d eventually…well, feel proud about having watched the whole thing. Which I am.

It’s basically fly-on-the-wall stuff. Quite interesting. A casual, shaggy, very cool hang. But after a while it loses a little something. Zero narrative tension, of course, but that’s built into the concept. It almost bores at times but not quite. Because I’ve never really seen or felt the Beatles this “unguarded”, this “just being themselves”, or smoking this much. I’ve never felt this much access to their inner vibe or sanctum, if you will.

From John Anderson’s Wall Street Journal review:

Tapped out in stages through the day…

Anderson is correct in calling Get Back many things (including occasionally tedious) rolled into one. 60 hours of footage boiled down to 468 minutes (nearly eight hours) — a chopped English salad of this and that song or conversation or mood jag, pieces of fun and improv and shaggy affectionate humor and experimentation, and so much smoking you’ll feel cancer seeping into your lungs. (There’s actually a warning about the smoking at the beginning of each episode.)

It’s never not interesting, and you gradually begin to pick up on things implied and unsaid.

Episode #1 covers the first seven days, and ends on 1.10.69. Most of it consists of casual, enjoyable playing of new and old tunes. The best musical performance by far is of an old standard — Chuck Berry’s “Rock & Roll Music”.

A fair amount of “Abbey Road” numbers are played in rough form.

The 16mm image quality is very good considering. The cropped HD scanning (16 x 9 aspect ratio) has a high-grade clarity. No noticeable grain to speak of.

It’s fascinating when cameras are focused on a verbal discussion while Paul McCartney’s first stabs at “Let It Be” are heard in the background.

Nobody except Linda Eastman (who drops by a couple of times) says a word to Yoko “black hole” Ono, and who could blame them?

George Harrison’s frustration with McCartney’s ego & dominant band-leading (which was conveyed in Michael Lindsay-Hogg’s original half-century-old doc) is not especially readable here. George’s temporary departure was reportedly preceded by a big lunch-hour blowup between himself and the reportedly heroin-sedated John, but this happens off–camera.

There’s a fascinating discussion between Paul and others about how John and Yoko ‘s obsessive relationship prevented John and Paul from seeing each other and thereby composing together, and how Yoko’s constant presence led to a blocking of the old collaborative hormones.

There’s a SERIOUSLY MESMERIZING passage near the beginning of episode #2 in which John and Paul retire to the lunch room to privately discuss George having “quit” the band, but Hogg and his team have covertly planted a mike in a flower pot and so we hear every line, every word. And Jackson prints out the dialogue as it happens.

Once the Harrison-quitting episode is resolved, what little narrative tension the doc had is out the window.

12:30 pm update: Most of episode #2 (which runs 173 minutes) happens inside the newly created basement recording studio at Apple headquarters on Saville Row. This is where they record the “Get Back” album — not the worst Beatles album (that would be “Magical Mystery Tour”) but the second worst.

Seriously: Episode #2 is less interesting, a bit flabbier than episode #1. Do I need to watch the whole thing? Can I just jump to episode #3?

This will sound petty, of course, but somewhere in the middle of episode #2 (i.e., Saville Row recording studio) and for a couple of days, George Harrison begins wearing a pair of black high-tops with thick white laces. And they really look awful — about as far away from HE’s Italian suede lace–up aesthetic as you can get. Absurd as it may sound, those high-tops brought me down.

2:20 pm update: Episode #2 (173 mins.) has finally ended. Episode #3 (138 mins.) has begun. It’s been a long and winding road since I began watching this bear yesterday afternoon. With all due respect, I’m starting to feel a little John, Paul, George and Ringo–ed out.

3:45 pm update: The Saville Row roof concert is good. A little short (what is it, seven or eight songs?) but a crescendo of sorts. Observed by maybe 100 or so onlookers on nearby rooftops and whatnot. The delighted fans down below can’t see a thing. Two young policemen knock on the Apple door with noise complaints from older people, and insisting that the volume levels are too loud. Mal Evans takes them up on the roof. Their mindsets are so banal. ‘Twas ever thus.

I liked Jackson’s decision to use a horizontal split-screen presentation during the concert…three screens, two screens, occasional singles.

David Poland has called The Beatles: Get Back “the greatest art process documentary I have ever experienced.” I think it’s the greatest art process film since Curtis Hanson’s 8 Mile.

Altogether a historic achievement. I’m not sure how truly great or (if you’re reading Poland) Shoah-level it might be, but it’s one marathon-sized music epic that you probably need to submit to.

Peter Jackson says his greatest fear making The Beatles doc #GetBack was finding out one or more of them were “primadonnas or assholes.”

They were not. “They are good guys… It sounds so simplistic. But I’m so happy that the four Beatles turned out to be good guys. Nice guys.” pic.twitter.com/MgixYe46ds

— Kevin Polowy (@djkevlar) November 24, 2021

Tatiana and I caught a 7 pm showing of House of Gucci at the AMC Grove 14. The house was maybe three-quarters full, and there was a fair amount of chuckling and guffawing at Lady Gaga’s glaring, snorting, histrionic performance; Jared Leto also attracted a few hoots. A few people clapped when it ended. I’m sensing business.

When I read the words “young turkey,” something went cold inside. They grabbed a teenager — a turkey who was just starting to feel his or her oats — and chopped his or her head off. And here’s the frozen carcass, ready for basting and slow cooking.

Herewith an excerpt from Richard Rushfield’s latest “Ankler” column, titled “The Twin Plagues of Moviedom’s Assisted Suicide”, with particular thanks to Creative Future‘s Ruth Vitale:

The best part of this announcement about the firearm suicide of Brian Laundrie, the likely killer of Gabby Petito, is a tacked-on PSA announcement. It says “if you or someone you know is struggling or in crisis, you are not alone…individuals seeking assistance can contact these agencies,” etc. Someone, the statement implies, who is struggling because he killed his girlfriend and feels badly about it?

“The common factor in all of these examples is the very obvious attempt to undermine and reverse the very traits that made these characters so compelling in the first place…pessimism and passivity, bitterness and resentment, despair and defeatism…all of these characters have been twisted and warped into obscene parodies of themselves, tarnishing not just who they are now but who they once were.” — The Critical Drinker, posted on 11.23.21.

I caught Oliver Stone‘s JFK Revisited: Through the Looking Glass (Showtime app, currently streaming) a week and a half ago. The reason I’ve waited is due (and I’m sorry to say this) to a very slight sense of disappointment.

Most of the film is fascinating, and I have no argument with any of the “what if?” speculations. Nor do I doubt that Jack Kennedy died as a result of some kind of conspiracy. But one of the most bothersome aspects of the whole alleged conspiracy thing isn’t addressed. Not really.

I was expecting that the 118-minute doc would address the fact that the best visual record of JFK’s murder — the 8mm Abraham Zapruder film — doesn’t show a back-of-the-head blowout, which is what all the conspiracy theorists been telling us for years.

Nor does it explain how, when and by whom the Zapruder film was allegedly altered. Nor does it consider the viewpoint of Life magazine editor Richard Stolley, who saw the raw Zapruder film in Dallas before anyone had a chance to fuck with it.

“It’s not just the Parkland doctors who saw the gaping hole in the rear of Kennedy’s skull,” a Stone colleague told me last summer. “It’s also in the declassified files of the HSCA; there are also just as many witnesses [who saw the same] during the Bethesda autopsy.

“That is what the film focuses on — the declassified files made possible by the Assassination Records Review Board. Which the mainstream media ignored.”

Here’s how I put it last July: “I’ve been all in on the JFK assassination particulars for decades. But I’m skeptical about the occipital head wound thing. I’m reluctant to accept that so many people could’ve worked so hard to alter the head wound and the Zapruder footage of same, and yet none had a single tearful deathbed confession moment…not one?

HE comment: I’ve watched many, many interview videos with those Parkland doctors, particularly around the time of the 50th anniversary (i.e., 2013), and not a single interviewer or moderator followed up with an obvious follow-up question, to wit:

“Nobody’s challenging the accuracy of your first-hand observations,” they should have been asked, “but how do you explain the bizarre lack of ANY visual evidence in the Zapruder and Nix films…why is visual evidence that shows a rear-of-the-head blow-out…why is this supposed evidence completely missing in the Zapruder and Nix films? How do you explain this?”

If only Ahmaud Arbery had gone to a pedicurist a day or two before he was killed by those vigilant neighborhood defenders…

Early in episode #1 of Peter Jackson‘s epic-length Get Back doc (Disney+, 11.25), we see the Beatles starting to settle into rehearsals at Twickenham Studios.

After initial hellos and small talk, a rough version of John Lennon‘s “Don’t Let Me Down” is being fiddled and fumbled with and sung partly off-key.

The camera soon captures a creepy looking Hare Krishna guy sitting against a nearby wall — shaved head, dour expression, staring at the boys with dead eyes. One look and you’re thinking “Jesus, is that Charles Manson‘s younger brother? Is he on meds?” Hare Krishna guys have always creeped me out.

Anyway the first laugh arrives a few seconds later when Lennon quips “who’s that little old man?” — his first line in A Hard Day’s Night. George explains that the grim-faced baldie is a friend. His name is Shyamsunder Das,

This is why I’ve always loved Lennon. His irreverence is so sparkling and tireless. “Who’s that little old man?” is his way of saying “who’s that somber-faced wanker with the Indian clothing and cheap sneakers?

Second impression: All through it Yoko Ono just sits there next to John, doing nothing, a black hole…doesn’t she understand that during a rehearsal you have to either be playing and singing and contributing in some way or else you’re just sucking up energy?

Third impression: 20 minutes into episode #1 and it feels fascinating, intimate, chill. And at the same time very out-takey, very fly-on-the-wall, very this-and-that. Definitely a lack of narrative tension, and yet it’s an agreeable hang…enjoying it, settling in, interesting vibes, lots of cigarette smoking (George!). Paul smokes a cigar.