Who is your favorite Beatle? It’s a question I’ve heard from time to time—and it’s a bit like slicing the Mona Lisa in four pieces and picking your favorite section. The Beatles comprised a human masterpiece—a beautiful balance of creative tension and harmonious style. Sometimes the members are divided into convenient stereotypes. John Lennon was the walking paradox: the dreamer and the cynic. Paul McCartney was the stabilizing force that constantly reminded the band it was all about the music. George Harrison was the philosophically hungry supporting player—and the brushstroke that completed the picture.
To answer the opening question, I’ve always been partial to Lennon. McCartney may have been the more conventional craftsman, but Lennon was the artist—all restlessness and inspiration. It’s not sufficiently pointed out—while perhaps being common knowledge—that John composed melodies as consistently wonderful as Paul’s. On top of that, he had the lyrical edge, whether the words were Lewis Carroll-esque poppycock or confessional chants that publicly peeled the raw onion of his emotion. The brittleness in Lennon’s voice was just an illusion—it was powerful but had a vulnerability that made him one of the rare vocalists who can break your heart while rocking out. And though the list of McCartney ringers is endless (you can hear his vocal influence in everybody from Elton John and Billy Joel to Eric Carmen and Gilbert O’Sullivan), I’ve yet to hear a Lennon-inspired singer who doesn’t sound like he’s doing an impersonation.
And what about the man behind the voice? He was really pretty mysterious outside of being variously characterized as a peace-loving hippie or angry rebel…or Yoko’s husband.
The film Nowhere Boy homes in on the young John Lennon, who grew up in Liverpool with his Aunt Mimi and beloved Uncle George. The film is perched uncomfortably—in more than one sense—between focusing on his troubled relationship with his flirtatious, life-embracing mother (who comes back into his life or, rather, vice-versa) and the musically fetal run-up to the birth of the Beatles. Rock ’n’ roll was an escape for Lennon from the strife, confusion and instability at home. In fact, goes the film’s thesis, had he grown up in a happy household, we might have been deprived of the greatest band in the world. Nowhere Boy’s best moment is at the very beginning, when after hearing the first chord of “A Hard Day’s Night” (and our Pavlovian anticipation is shattered when the song doesn’t follow), we witness an adolescent Lennon running down an empty Liverpool street, oblivious, of course, to his famous future. It’s a tribute to the opening scene of A Hard Day’s Night, in which the Beatles are being chased by a pack of screaming fans. It’s also an ironic contrast, toying with our knowledge of what’s to come.
To celebrate the season of Lennon’s birthday (which was October 9), the back catalog of his solo material has been opulently reissued. There have been new books about him, including Ken Sharp’s excellent Starting Over: The Making of John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s Double Fantasy, and the equally insightful John Lennon: Life is What Happens by John M. Borack. On the 8th of December, Lennon will have been gone 30 years. It’s agonizing to think about all the great music he could have produced in three decades. Even more sadly, it was the senseless, premature death of a vital human being—who just happened to be my favorite Beatle.
Nowhere Boy screens at Landmark Plaza Frontenac (210 Plaza Frontenac, 314-995-6285) through Thursday, November 4, and at Ronnie's Wehrenberg St. Charles Stadium 18 Cine (1830 First Capitol Drive South, 800-326-3264 x2403) through Saturday, November 6.
