Vintage Movies: “A Hard Day’s Night”

MAGNET contributing writer Jud Cost is sharing some of the wealth of classic films he’s been lucky enough to see over the past 40 years. Trolling the backwaters of cinema, he has worked up a list of more than 100 titles—from the ’20s through the ’80s—that you may have missed. A new selection, all currently available on DVD, appears every week.

A Hard Day’s Night (1964, 88 minutes)

It’s hard to overestimate the intoxicating effect A Hard Day’s Night had on rock ‘n’ roll. Entering a theater in 1964 to see the Beatles on the big screen for the first time, there was a nagging sense of dread that this might be just another Elvis Presley movie: bad acting and lame script. What rapture to find four kids from Liverpool who didn’t take themselves too seriously. American director Richard Lester just let the Beatles be themselves.

The opening scene shows John Lennon, George Harrison and Ringo Starr being chased through city streets by rabid fans. Harrison and Starr trip on the sidewalk and hit the ground hard but quickly scamper to their feet. As they continue to run for their lives, all three begin laughing hysterically. They’ve won you over before they’ve even spoken a word.

On the train to London, as Lennon, Harrison, Starr and Paul McCartney seat themselves in a first-class compartment, John notices a wiry senior-citizen sitting next to Paul. “Who’s that little old man?” John inquires. “Oh, that’s my grandfather,” says Paul. “That’s not your grandfather. I’ve seen your grandfather,” says George in an adenoidal murmur. “Well, that’s my other one. Everyone’s entitled to two,” says Paul. “We know that! What’s he doing here?” demands John. “My mother thought the trip would do him good,” says Paul. “He’s nursing a broken heart.”

“Hello, grandfather,” says John to the old-timer. “Hello!” barks the old man. “He can talk then, can he?” says John. “If he’s your grandfather, who knows?” quips Ringo. “He’s a villain,” says Paul, combing his hair in a mirror. “He’ll cost you a fortune in breach of promise cases.”

Norm (Norman Rossington), the boys’ long-suffering manager, arrives, issuing orders to his charges: “Let’s not cause any trouble, pull any strokes or do anything I’m gonna be sorry for. Are you listening to me, Lennon?” “You’re a swine, isn’t he, George?” says John, sniffing his Pepsi bottle. “Yeah, a swine,” agrees George, munching on a bun.

A middle-aged businessman (Richard Vernon) enters and immediately closes the outside window. “Do you mind if we have it open?” asks Paul. “Yes, I do,” says the man. “Yeah, but there’s four of us, and we’d like it open,” says John. “I travel on this train regularly, so I suppose I have some rights,” says the man. Ringo turns on his portable radio to blaring rock ‘n’ roll. “And we’ll have that off, as well!” says the businessman, pushing the power button. “But we want to hear it,” protests Paul. “Then I suggest you take that damned thing into the corridor where you obviously belong,” he says. “Give us a kiss,” says John, blinking rapidly. “Come on,” chuckles Paul to his mates. “Let’s go have some coffee and leave the colonel to ‘Lassie.'”