After tackling documentaries about rock godheads Bob Dylan (No Direction Home) and the Rolling Stones (Shine a Light), going for the holy trinity made sense for Martin Scorsese. After telling the story of Dylan’s golden period and by featuring a modern Stones performance, there was still one piece of the ‘60s rock puzzle left unexplored. The story of the Beatles had been told by 2011, however. Over and over again. Is there any band as well-documented as the Fab Four? But rather than spin a traditional Beatles story, Scorsese went for a slightly unorthodox narrative. Why not examine the Beatles through the lens of its most elusive member, guitarist George Harrison, especially as the 10th anniversary of his 2001 death was approaching?
Scorsese had been hired by the Beatle’s widow, Olivia, to produce a film about Harrison who had wanted to tell his story himself using his video archive. Along with editor David Tedeschi and a few others, Scorsese combed through hours of footage, photographs and interviews, working on both Shutter Island and George Harrison: Living in the Material World concurrently in 2008 and 2009, to craft the two-part, 208-minute feature that debuted on HBO in the autumn of 2011. The first half would tell the Beatles story – but via the lens of Harrison – while the second would pick up when Harrison went solo up until he succumbed to cancer at the age of 58.
Unlike his bandmates, Harrison always seemed to be the reluctant Beatle. He wasn’t hammy like Paul McCartney, extroverted in his cynicism and his activism like John Lennon or silly like Ringo Starr. He existed on a different plane of sorts, a reluctant superstar if you wil. Look at any photo of the Beatles and Harrison appears to be participating in the silliness with sheepish hesitancy. Even though Olivia co-produced the film, Living in the Material World presents its subject with a warts-and-all persistence, highlighting not only Harrison’s foibles (women, cocaine, acquisitiveness) but also the constant push-and-pull that defined the schism in his life between being a spiritual being and the multifarious luxuries in which he loved to partake.
Scorsese felt an instant kinship with Harrison, of whom he was a fan. The director said, “The more you’re in the material world, the more there is a tendency for a search for serenity and a need to not be distracted by physical elements that are around you.” But this isn’t The Last Temptation of Harrison. Despite the direct correlations between Harrison’s struggles and those of Scorsese’s characters, tempted away from divinity by material pleasures, the director never reframes the musician’s life to match his own muse. Instead, we are treated to Harrison’s home videos interspersed with interview footage from his former bandmates, friends and co-conspirators (Eric Clapton, Tom Petty and Eric Idle) and those who knew him well (ex-wife Pattie Boyd, Yoko Ono and more).
If the first half of the documentary feels familiar even to the casual Beatles fans, the second portion is more revealing as Scorsese explores the many facets of Harrison post-Fab Four. Though benefit concerts are commonplace now, Harrison essentially invented the idea with his pair of shows at Madison Square Garden in 1971 designed to bring aid for and awareness to the refugees in East Pakistan during Bangladesh Liberation War. Enlisting the likes of Ravi Shankar, Leon Russell, Clapton and a reclusive Dylan, Harrison managed to raise about $12 million via ticket sales, his Concert for Bangladesh album and its companion film. Harrison’s movie career didn’t stop there. He also bankrolled Monty Python’s Life of Brian and established a production company (HandMade Films) that would produce films such as Time Bandits and Withnail & I.
If anything, Scorsese is trying to restore balance to the Beatles in Living in the Material World. Lennon and McCartney have forever been the voice and the face of the Beatles. Harrison had become frustrated with living in their shadow, with being relegated to one song per album. He had built up a wealth of material that exploded in the 1970 triple album, All Things Must Pass. (Sadly, Scorsese doesn’t touch on Harrison’s first two solo albums, a pair of experimental, instrumental records). But the music makes a case for itself. “Something,” “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” and “Here Comes the Sun” are some of the Fab Four’s finest moments.
Scorsese does cram a lot into Living in the Material World and some of Harrison’s life is left unexplored. We do hear about Harrison’s biggest solo albums but many of them are left unmentioned. Scorsese spends some time looking at Harrison’s collaboration with the Traveling Wilburys but nothing is said about Brainwashed, the acclaimed 2002 posthumous record assembled by Harrison’s son Dhani and Wilburys comrade, Jeff Lynne. There is mention about the love triangle between Harrison, Boyd and Clapton (which ended with Boyd leaving Harrison for his friend), but the story is left dangling and uncomplete. Therein lies the problem with Living in the Material World, there is too much material for the two sections.
According to Roger Ebert, “this is a more objective, less personal documentary than Scorsese usually makes.” It is surprisingly straight forward and almost workmanlike in its approach. Scorsese hits on the important beats – including the man who broke into Harrison’s home in 1999 with a knife and almost killed him – but rarely digs in deep. Harrison’s childhood is glossed over, even though he shared many similarities with Scorsese’s own origin. But what we do understand is that Harrison attracted interesting people. Who else could have pulled Dylan from his self-imposed hermitage to play a benefit concert after more than five years out of the spotlight? Well, maybe Scorsese, who got the notoriously difficult musician to talk about his life in clear terms for No Direction Home. It’s just a shame Harrison wasn’t alive for Scorsese to spin a similar sort of magic.
The post Oeuvre: Scorsese: George Harrison: Living in the Material World appeared first on Spectrum Culture.