The Beatles: Eight Days a Week — The Touring Years

Tonight I saw The Beatles: Eight Days a Week—The Touring Years, directed by Ron Howard.

Though I've probably seen every Beatles documentary in existence, I'm happy to report there are elements of this one that still feel fresh.

Director Ron Howard uses footage from familiar flashbacks such as the band's appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show to illustrate their journey from 1963 to the time they quit touring in 1966, spliced in with talking head interviews (both from the era and present day). He captures the intensity and madness that was Beatlemania, but without dwelling on the drama.

At the heart of the phenomenon were four friends: John, Paul, George and Ringo. As Lennon once said, "We were just a band who made it very, very big—that's all." Big indeed. In the three years covered in the film, the band performed over 250 concerts, each one arguably growing in fan intensity.

Before it became suffocating (and downright dangerous after Lennon's famous "bigger than Jesus" remark), the thrill of touring—and the fame that came with it—was intoxicating for the group. They were young men who got to use their collective creative genius to conquer the world. With that came money, women, adoration and years of fun.

Considering how they all sued each other and fought publicly in their later years, we sometimes forget how close these boys were in the beginning. They were basically brothers, and thankfully by the time two of the four passed, they'd found their way back to one another.

At one point in the film, their musical gifts are compared to Mozart. Some may call that exposition apples to oranges, but a good case is made as to why it's a just parallel. Above all else, the contemplation reminds us that extraordinary talents like John, Paul, George and Ringo, only happen once in a lifetime.

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The Girl on the Train

Tonight I saw The Girl on the Train, starring Emily Blunt and Haley Bennett.

Rachel (Blunt) is a scorned woman, drowning her sorrows in drink following a divorce. Her ex-husband, Tom (Justin Theroux), has moved on and married his mistress. They live together in the house he and Rachel used to share. They have a baby daughter and seem the picture of happiness.

Megan (Bennett) nannies for Tom and his wife, and lives nearby. On the train Rachel takes each day to a job she lost over a year ago, she often watches Megan and her husband Scott on their porch.

One day, Megan goes missing and Rachel is one of the last people to see her. Because of her alcoholism, Rachel suffers blackouts and doesn't remember the events of that night.

Going any further with the plot will spoil many twists, so I'll leave the exploration at that. Though the film does stay true to the book it was based upon, it feels (painfully) slower.

Blunt is convincing as the tragic Rachel, who you alternately sympathize with and want to shake. Her portrait of alcoholism is faithful to sufferers of the disease, and her shock and horror as events unfold is believable. Unfortunately her wonderful acting skills, and the strong performances from the other leads and supporting characters, can't save the movie.

Instead of the page-turning crescendo of activity the book put us through, we're instead watching extended vignettes of Rachel and Megan in their various stages, acting out in whatever ways their characters act out.

Sure, it's powerful to see Rachel flashback to her marriage and let us see what brought her to such self-destruction, and Megan seductively sucking the fingers of one of her sexual partners is about as erotic as it gets for an R-rated movie. But what happened to all the suspense?

I'll just have to return to the pages of the novel to find it.

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