A Hard Day's Night

 SPOILER ALERT! The plot will be discussed.

Roger Ebert notes in his book, The Great Movies, that A Hard Day’s Night (1964), “was in a different category from rock musicals that had starred Elvis and his imitators.” Indeed, those earlier films did not offer much more than a way to showcase their musical stars playing and singing their songs. But this Richard Lester directed movie, from a script written by Alun Owen, uses witty, surreal dialogue and situations that has The Beatles mirror the anarchic freedom of The Marx Brothers. 

 

Ebert notes that the black-and-white photography provides a “semi-documentary style” as the film follows a day in the life of the famous quartet as they evade zealous fans, rebel against those who would contain them, and eventually perform at a concert. As Ebert says, the film does not follow standard filmmaking procedures, and instead uses handheld cameras and quick cutting that make it appear as if the shots were “snatched during moments of real life.” But that realistic look is in ironic contrast to the absurd antics of John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr. 

 

The title of the film came from Ringo who was describing how rest was needed after a trying day being The Beatles. But it is writer Owen who created “stereotyped” versions of the band members, according to IMDb, after observing them on tour. He depicted Paul as “cute” and “sensible,” John as the “smart-ass,” George as “quiet and shy,” and Ringo as “dim-witted and sad.” In real life, the personalities of these individual musicians were more complex, so the film is a fictional version of the factual people. Larry David does the same thing in Curb Your Enthusiasm. 

 

The opening sequence, with the lively title track playing in the background, is one of movement. John, George and Ringo are fleeing from the adoring female fans. They run, jump, and ride to get away. Only Paul, in disguise with a beard and mustache sits still because he is with his grandfather (Wilfrid Brambell) on a bench. (IMDb notes that Paul was indisposed for a while because of a car accident, and William Shears was used as a stand-in. In Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, Paul sings an introduction to the “one and only Billy Shears”). But they all meet up at a station to go on a train, another moving object. This sequence conveys youthful energy, but also a sense that the musical celebrities find it difficult to obtain that sense of liberation. Indeed, when they are not moving they are in confined areas, such as rooms, cars, and train compartments that symbolize how their fame, although allowing them monetary gain and the ability to express their musical abilities, also limited them as individuals.

 

On the train there is the first of many references to Paul’s grandfather being “very clean.” According to IMDb, the phrase is a reverse reference to actor Brambell’s role in a British TV series entitled “Steptoe and Son” (which was the inspiration for the American show “Sanford and Son”), where Brambell’s character was called a “dirty old man.” John says that they will probably have to look after the old man, but his response is, “I look after meself.” His attitude is unexpected since one would expect the old man to be a conservative type. But the script defies expectations, and Grandfather likes to get into mischief and is a rebel. Paul calls him “a villain, a real mixer.” Paul adds his grandfather, “costs you a fortune in breach-of-promise cases.” That type of dialogue is funny because it sounds formal coming from blokes who came off the streets of Liverpool. 

 

Shake (John Junkin) and Norm (Norman Rossington), the group's handlers, show up, and Norm immediately wants to put restrictions on the four, saying “let's not cause any trouble.” After Grandfather goes with Shake and Norm for some coffee, a proper looking middle-aged gentleman (Richard Vernon) enters the compartment. The long-haired boys seem to be an existential annoyance to the conservative man, as he views them with suspicion. He immediately tries to control the situation by closing the window (metaphorically implying he does not want fresh ways of thinking to be in his presence). Paul wants the window open, and John points out that the majority there doesn’t want it closed, stressing democracy. But the older fellow argues he has sway because he has been around longer, basically arguing that age outranks youth. He doesn’t want them playing rock music on Ringo’s radio, either. He says he “fought the war for your sort,” and Ringo’s funny response is, “I bet you’re sorry you won,” since the man is so hostile toward those he protected. The Marx Brothers influence at playing with language can be heard when the traveler says, “I shall call the guard,” and Paul says, “Ah, but what?” That response is followed by an absurd shot of the boys outside the train with a bicycle running alongside the man’s window, stressing that he is treating them like little children. 

 

The Beatles join Shake, Norm, and Grandfather in the dining car. Norm and Shake are arguing over the ridiculous point that Shake is acting taller than Norm. Paul discovers that it’s his grandfather that instigated the conflict, even though the two men never argue. Paul says that Grandfather doesn’t like “unity.” He’s being depicted as an anarchist, just the opposite of the elderly man in the compartment. Grandfather creates more chaos when young girls enter the car. Paul makes a move on them for himself and the others, but then Grandfather says the young men are convicts and the females should flee. In a way, The Beatles were guilty of defying conventional norms. 

 

Grandfather is unaccounted for, and when asked, John’s nutty comment is that he concealed him about his “person.” It adds to the film’s attack on conventional rationality. Ringo admits to George that he has an inferiority complex, and he plays drums because it’s his, “active compensatory factor.” Here we have more of that out-of-place language that sounds like curbside psychology, which the script is satirizing. John bursts into a compartment that has young girls and asks for a file to free him of supposed handcuffs, carrying on the theme of being in a confining state due to his celebrity status.

 

Paul and John find Grandfather with a much younger woman. He says he is engaged, another ridiculous moment. The next shot is Grandfather in a cage in the storage part of the train, looking like his free spirit has been imprisoned. But, the Beatles join him, so they, too, are confined by their own fame, as girls show up outside the barrier. We then have the artifice of the movie undermining the documentary feel, as the quartet plays “I Should Have Known Better,” when they are only supposed to be playing cards. 

 

The “surging” girls are waiting for them at the train station (John asks if he could be “surged,” which again echoes the Marx Brothers’ love of wordplay and also shows the plus side of being a rock star). More physical fleeing takes place suggesting an attempt to escape the suffocation of fame. Shake has to carry the band’s instruments because The Beatles don’t have the luxury of privacy to bring their own. But, for that sacrifice of privacy, they do experience adoration and the freedom to have others do work for them. The film shows the two sides of success. 

 

Ringo gets an invitation to go to a fancy club, but Norm, trying to control the band’s members so that they don’t become a publicity embarrassment, denies Ringo the opportunity to go. Grandfather steals the invitation, and even though he openly discourages attendance there, he likes the idea of being at a place that has “easy money and fast women.” Norm wants the band to stay in the hotel and answer their fan mail. After Norm leaves, John grabs his jacket to go out, which is his defiant response to being told to stay put, and they go out dancing to their own recorded music. Grandfather, exercising his own rebelliousness, goes gambling at the club. When he goes broke, he unscrupulously pretends to be a waiter and gets a large tip from a patron so he can continue to bet. There is a shot at the dance club that has a young woman resting her booted foot on the hand of a companion as John sits at the table. In Howard Hampton’s essay, “The Whole World is Watching,” this brief image conveys, “the way the cool and wry and fetishistic are all folded into everyday conversation, ordinary life.” It’s a hint of how The Beatles are in the vanguard of “a transformed social world that's being sculpted before your eyes.” However, Norm (an appropriate name for someone who wants things to adhere to the “norms” of behavior so that things appear to be “normal”), shows up and wants The Beatles to leave. 

 

Norm gets the lads back to the hotel to do the chore of answering their mail. But, they find the butler whose clothes Grandfather took to go to the fancy club, and they use that excuse to break away once more to find the old man. They get into the exclusive club because they are, after all, The Beatles, so celebrity has its privileges. Shake gets into the exclusive club by saying he’s “Ringo’s sister,” so absurdity keeps surfacing in the film.

 

The next scene has John enjoying himself as he plays like a child unencumbered by adult restrictions while taking a bath. He pretends he is a German U-Boat commander. As he sings, “Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the sea,” he then has one boat bash another, a sort of satiric jab at England’s imperialism. As IMDb points out, John holds a toy submarine and shouts out “Help!” which predicts the subsequent Beatles movies, Help! And Yellow Submarine. When Norm again tries to manage John by telling him to get out of the bathtub, he pulls the stopper, but only John’s hat and the toy submarine remain after the water drains. John walks in harassing Norm to stop fooling around. It’s an absurdist reversal of their roles. 

 

The band rides to a press conference at the theater where they will perform. When they exit the car they go through a homeless person’s tent and the screaming female fans knock the shelter away, leaving the poor man without his covering. The shot seems to stress how all this fame and money contrasts with the poor people who are left behind in the capitalistic rat race. 

 

When the musicians enter the reception room, Norm continues his restrictive role by trying to curtail the band’s efforts to indulge in any alcoholic beverages. The film also makes fun of the same tired questions that reporters ask The Beatles. Commenting supposedly about the size of Ringo’s nose, John says, “I never noticed his nose till about six months ago.” When asked how he found “America,” John’s sarcastic response is, “Turn left at Greenland.” When confronted with the extremely obvious question, “Has success changed your life,” George does not dignify the question as he simply says, “Yes.” When asked what he calls the hairstyle he has, George says, “Arthur,” again playing with language. When an interviewer wants to know with whom Ringo identifies between the two warring youthful factions in England at the time, the “mods” or the “rockers,” Ringo’s famous line is “I’m a mocker.” The response shows how he makes fun of the question and the conflicting parties, but also how he implies the best way to resolve differences is through unification. Paul has to keep saying that he is just “good friends” with all the suggestions of romantic connections, which shows how he must publicly comment on all his private social activities. Despite the supposedly factual presentation of the narrative, there are references to the mothers of John and Paul, who, in fact, were deceased at the time of the filming. So, the movie is playing with fact versus fiction.  

 

As the group goes to the stage for rehearsal, one of the crew taps on Ringo’s symbols, which upsets his sense of musical jurisdiction. George says Ringo is very fussy about his drums because “they loom large in his legend.” It’s another instance of exaggerated word usage to poke fun at the group’s own fame. Even after they perform a perfect version of “If I Fell,” the band receives flak from a snobby TV director (Victor Spinetti), another uppity older person wanting to control them after being urged on by that “mixer,” Grandfather McCartney. 

 Norm wants to lock them away until the performance, but of course they get out through the fire escape as the energetic “Can’t Buy Me Love” plays. What follows is a frenetic rambling by the four as they luxuriate in their freedom in a sports field. The shots from above emphasize the extent of the open-air lack of restrictions. The use of fast-action and slow-motion camera work adds to the playful kinetic liberation. As soon as the song is done, another old-timer enters trying to ground their flight to freedom, saying the area is private property and therefore off-limits.

 George accidentally passes by an office where people in the fashion industry work. They think his look is close enough to a real Beatle that they can use him to sell their goods. Exploitation of The Beatles brand is what is suggested here, with the company employees not able to recognize genuine talent from imitators. George describes certain shirts as “grotty,” which means grotesque. IMDb says the clothing is similar to what the Dave Clark Five wore, the inferior band that followed The Beatles in what was known in the recording industry as “The British Invasion.” The fashion executive says that no matter how “grotty” it appears, the corporate world will make kids want it or else the youths will feel diminished in the eyes of their peers. He says the new trend will be “to care passionately and be right wing.” It’s a sort of indoctrination to gain control, and the individualistic George wants nothing to do with it. He says that their “trendsetter” female spokesperson is a “drag” and people make fun of her. George is thrown out because the fashion boss only wants affirmation of his preconceived views.

 

When the band members return to their ready room, they are again chastised by Norm for wandering off. John gets on his knees and jokingly begs not to be “caned,” for being “led astray,” a jab at the English boarding school system that overreacted by using corporal punishment if a boy broke the rules. The tailor is measuring Paul who walks away, and John cuts the tape measure and mocks the Queen by using a high-pitched voice, saying, “I now declare this bridge open.” It’s another bit of rebellious humor that pokes fun at the reigning establishment. 

 

They get more disapproving and controlling static from the Director because the band isn’t on time to practice another tune and he wants them not to move “out of position” once they take the stage. They make fun of his sweater, saying he probably doesn't have a wife because he has such bad taste in clothes. Paul says that the Director’s assistant probably knitted the sweater for him, and then John says, “She knitted him.” It’s a damning line, associating the man in authority with an old-fashioned practice because he can’t keep pace with how the world is changing. 

 

After a marvelous rendition of “And I Love Her,” they go to the makeup room to make fun of the established order. Ringo is under a dryer as he wears the hairy headgear of a Buckingham Palace guard while he reads a magazine entitled The Queen as John points out that it’s an “in-joke.” Paul drapes a protective shroud around him like a classical actor and mockingly quotes from Hamlet as he says, “Oh, that this too, too solid flesh would melt.” John sports a beard and satirizes a proper gentleman as he mentions shopping at the famous British luxury department store, Harrods, which is situated where “you turn right at the corridor and past the fireplace.” Before going back on stage, John does some exaggerated dance moves to jokingly comment on the traditional way some dancers are performing their rehearsal. Everything about this movie is iconoclastic.

 

After another song, Norm wants the band to stay put at the theater, but John and Paul are as defiant as ever, and go off with a couple of girls. Norm assigns Ringo to look after Paul’s grandfather, who continues to stir up trouble by harassing Ringo about reading a book instead of going out in the world and living it up. Grandfather keeps playing the part of rulebreaker, as he critiques traditional scholarly pursuits. But he also exploits the teasing Ringo receives from the other Beatles, saying they are taking advantage of his “good nature.” He convinces Ringo to go “parading,” and Ringo takes off right before the show, causing the others to attempt to retrieve him. 

 As Ringo walks about, two girls recognize him and he escapes into a shop where he puts on a coat and hat so he can’t be recognized. Disguised, he then approaches a girl who calls him “shorty” and dismisses him. As an abstract celebrity he is pursued, but as himself, he is rejected, which is a cynical comment on the nature of fame. He tries to take what we now call a selfie by mounting his camera on a rock. When he uses an extension cord to trip the shutter, the camera shoots off into the river. It’s the kind of loser gag Woody Allen will later put to good use. When Ringo chucks a large brick into the river, a cop rides by on a bicycle and reprimands Ringo. It’s another example of too much control being exerted. But then Ringo becomes the old guard when a young boy (David Janson) rolls a tire and Ringo trips on it. The Beatles’ drummer then tells the boy he is causing trouble. The youth has skipped school as part of his rebelliousness. Ringo discovers the boy has three friends (just like Ringo) who also are playing hooky, and Ringo says he, too, is a “deserter.” So, Ringo sees some of himself in the young boy. 

 Ringo continues to play the screenwriter’s lame character as he has to pay for stale food and disrupts men playing some pub games. He even gets his glass of beer smashed by putting it down in the wrong place. He almost hits a parrot with a dart and spears a patron’s sandwich. He’s seen as a “troublemaker” and when he gets thrown out of the pub and kicks some trash onto the street, a policeman is there, of course, sternly observing these minor infractions. But when Ringo tries to be chivalrous by putting his coat over puddles of water for a woman to walk over, he accidentally has her fall into a manhole. Luckily, there is a worker who breaks her fall, but it’s enough for the cop to arrest Ringo.

 

Meanwhile, Grandfather forged the signatures of the bandmates on a bunch of Beatles photos and tries to pass them off as genuine to the crowd in front of the theater. After causing a commotion, he too is arrested. He rants about police brutality and kicks the policemen at the station. He says he is “a soldier of the Republic,” which IMDb notes refers to the I.R.A. So, Grandfather is associated with a radical group of Irishmen who fought against British dominance. We therefore have more insurrectionist references. The police say they just tried to protect him from the mob of girls, but Grandfather runs off, just like the band members were doing. 

 

After Grandfather sneaks into the theater and tells John, Paul, and George that Ringo is at the police station, the film has a modern version of a wacky Keystone Cops segment as the officers and the musicians run about while the appropriately fast-paced “Can’t Buy Me Love” plays. While the cops chase the four young men, they overlook a thief trying to break into a car, stressing the authorities lack of fair law enforcement, as one oblivious cop uses the crook in the stolen auto to chase the quartet.

 

The film ends with a concert that showcases what The Beatles do best, play their songs. The music and harmonies are wonderful, and their compositions continued to evolve into greatness. The uninhibited fans show that they allowed no restraints to be placed upon this younger generation. After the concert the band members are running again, as they did at the onset of the movie, refusing to be contained. They fly off on a helicopter, symbolizing their deserved place among the musical heavens.

The next film is Whose Life Is It Anyway?