Get Back!

I have started to work my way through Get Back, the new Peter Jackson documentary about the Beatles which launched this week.

Having watched just over an hour and a bit of the six hour film, I’m totally smitten with it.

Whilst I’ve still got a long way to go, two important observations stuck with me after I turned the TV off for the evening.

The first observation relates to the creative process employed by the band.

Because we know the final product so well - it’s tempting to feel that these songs fell out of the writer’s heads fully formed. What the film gives insight into is the organic, natural process by which the songs emerge over a series of days. The records we know and love start as a series of sketches and patterns which are prodded, poked and played with until they begin to take shape. There is a blend of very technical skills being deployed alongside much softer, intuitive ones too. Experiments are conducted and there is debate, discussion and dissent amongst the group about the words, chords and rhythms that will be employed.

Each of the band members clearly likes to work in a different way to one another - there is no set style or approach adopted by the group. Ringo, George and Paul feel like a tight unit. John - with Yoko in tow - is more distant.

Provocations from the supporting cast of producers, film makers and hangers on are considered and played with. A steady flow of Cigarettes, Tea, Beer and Sandwiches fuel these discussions. There is as much time spent sitting around and avoiding work as there is spent on dedicated focus.

As we all know - good ideas take time and effort - they’re rarely easy. I found watching the group and their interactions absolutely fascinating… and ultimately reassuring to some extent. Creativity is messy, rarely a solo effort and requires perspiration as much as inspiration. For anyone involved in creative thinking, this film is a really useful reference point.

I also found it interesting that the process and environment they were working withing was loaded with constraint.

No fancy recording techniques like those employed on the albums which came directly before hand and no fancy studio. The band, their instruments and a ticking clock. The jeopardy of the deadline looms large - with each passing scene, Jackson crosses another day off the calendar - we get a sense that we’re marching toward something which is unstoppable. Again, the reaction of the different band members is fascinating here - some see the deadline as a threat, whilst others suggest that it’ll ‘be alright on the night’. I found myself thinking of the films of Asif Kapadia - a director whose real skill lies in creating massive tension in documentaries where the audience already know the outcome before we start the film…

The comparison with other documentaries led me to thinking about the format of the show itself.

There is nothing that innovative about the format of the documentary itself, we have seen things like this before. I felt myself making comparisons with PJ Harvey’s residency at Somerset House and Jean Luc Godard ‘s 1968 film One Plus One (aka Sympathy For The Devil) which focusses on, amongst other things, the Rolling Stones recording of the song referenced in the title.

However - whilst we may have seen directors making versions of this film before, the interesting thing is it’s length. It’s six hours long. There are large sections of the film where the band are not really doing anything. Some of the early reviews complain that it is bloated and overweight. Jackson’s film may well be bloated for the average sunday night streamer, but for die hard Beatles fans each frame is a joy.

You quickly realise that this is not a ‘commercial’ piece of filmmaking in the sense most audiences are used to. Long films are normally costly to make, but they are also not that attractive to mainstream audiences. Recent Theatrical releases such as Dune and Bond that exceed two hours are normally issued pseudo health warnings when reviewed. Even for the most popular franchises or properties, asking people to do to much is a big undertaking.

This film is a product of the new economics of what we think of as ‘the TV industry’. More specifically it is a product of the streaming industry. With infinite bandwidth, there are no limits to the things that creatives can produce and distribute. We’re no longer forcing content into 45 minute slots of linear broadcast. With the global reach and scale that a platform like Disney+ enjoys, the host platform can be guarenteed to find an audience big enough to warrant a notional ‘risk’ such as the one we see here. They don’t have to balance ‘big and mass’ with smaller, riskier plays. They can have it all.

It’s the same dynamic you see with the BBC and the remit of filmmaker Adam Curtis (and there are many parallels here in terms of forensic detail around a topic and the way in which the story is constructed). It’s also what we’re seeing with the rise of platforms such as OnlyFans or Patreon.

‘Niche’ is scaling and the economics of niche content are scaling as well. Content with niche appeal is no longer the preserve of the backwaters of the internet, but is becoming more widely adopted by late majorities, enabled by the ease of use that platforms such as Youtube, Disney+ and Netflix embody. Producing small and specialist content is big business when you have the entire globe at your disposal to ammortise your investment.

In marketing circles the challenge is often to be both big and cool. Not many brands - beyond Nike, Adidas and Apple succeed. Free from the phsyical limitations of linear capacity and armed with deep pockets that provides the latitude to take risks and ‘see what sticks’ - like breakout hit Squid Game exemplifies - the current wave of streaming platforms such as Netflix and Disney+, find themselves with a unique opportunity to do just that - to be big, popular and enjoy mass appeal whilst also having the ability to create cool, buzzworthy content that specific, niche fandoms will congregate around.