There was an article in which a man was nervous to ask his son who his favorite member of the Beatles was. The writer had been a John guy, and he feared that this son might say Paul (gasp!).
But when the son replied George, the father said, “George?”
We may know the Quiet Beatle’s history as a kid in Liverpool and as a spiritual follower of the Maharishi in India, but Martin Scorsese shows us in his documentary “George Harrison: Living in the Material World” how artful and significant his life was and what that means to us.
For Beatles fanatics and those who have followed George’s solo career faithfully, there may not be much new information about him to be found here. And only in the film’s second half do we begin to realize its profoundness as Olivia Harrison speaks about his spirituality, but the entire film is handled with a sincere level of artistry and grace.
Marty finds a way to dig through the countless hours and photos that document the Beatles career and compose it in such a way that feels fresh and artistically visionary. He tells George’s history through still photos and leaves much of the context to a modern day Paul, Ringo, Pattie Boyd, George Martin, Jane Birkin, Eric Clapton, Eric Idle, Terry Gilliam and Tom Petty.
They reveal in detail George’s two-sided personality and how his guarded kindness gave him a depth even greater than John or Paul. We knew what to expect from the young John Lennon and Paul McCartney, John with his edgy, pack leader sarcasm and Paul with his upbeat, jokey optimism.
But Scorsese gets us to focus at the quieter, sweeter and tender youth in the background. What do we see when we peer into George’s eyes inside Stu Sutcliffe’s (John’s best friend from art school and Beatles bassist who passed away young) art studio? For years we’ve been looking at John and getting such a complete picture, but there’s still mystery to be seen in George.
What George desired was to willingly express his religious and spiritual beliefs through music, but his good nature left him apprehensive toward the world and their fear of the unknown in their pop music. Phil Spector explained how he pushed George’s “My Sweet Lord” to be the single off “All Things Must Pass,” but everyone was reluctant because of its religious overtones. The Krishna mantra that guides the song rocketed to number one.
The Stu Sutcliffe story is a good example of how Scorsese had to conceive a way to tell one Beatle’s story without going into the history of them all. With how together they were, it’s tough to split them up and focus on just one. George even makes a joke in the Anthology footage Scorsese pulls from: “How many Beatles does it take to screw in a light bulb? Four.”
What Scorsese does is remind us that the Beatles did in fact break up. Although he goes in chronological order, we see George signing documents confirming it’s over, and we know he’s been liberated in such that we can view him separately.
We forget for a moment all the great things the Beatles did when they were together and how in a way the Beatles held him back from truly expressing himself. John and Paul worked together in songwriting, and George was the lone wolf. His experience in India gave him a desire to truly escape into a spiritual world, but his Earthly ties as the biggest rock band in the world held him down.
Scorsese unveils in the film’s second half as George enters his solo phase how much untapped emotion and creativity he found from being freed from the Beatles creative process. A warehouse full of old songs and George’s incessant experimentation seemed to reflect how he aimed to stay above the physical, material world and lose himself in a spiritual one.
We’re spared much of the actual songwriting process or even the deeper significance behind his lyrics in favor of the music itself. For George and for the Krishna who heard his music, they saw spirituality in the songs not because of the lyrics but because of the person singing him. Even in the use of so many great songs, Scorsese finds a way to make the film about George first and foremost.
The first part to “Living in the Material World” lacks a great deal of the slice of life narratives that made George such an inviting, nurturing friend to so many talented people. But when Olivia and Dhani Harrison, George’s son, enter into the picture, they recite absolutely enticing stories of George’s openness, rebellion and defiance all before George’s death.
This sort of beauty in documentary storytelling is a rare thing.
What we grasp about the mystery of George throughout “Living in the Material World” can be summed up by George himself in a quote about the teachings of the Maharishi. “There’s nothing mystical about it, only that you’re ignorant to what that entails.”
3 1/2 stars
Marty?