Sifting through documentary after documentary on The Beatles is far harder than it should be. Much of the trouble that comes from it is the same sort of difficulty that is reflected in the bootleg tapes of Bob Dylan. Every moment in the career of The Fab Four is mulled over for the massive crowd that hopes for every lick of detail available. Appeasing that is like stoking a fire. It’ll grow and grow. There is no way of managing that blaze. The Beatles: Made on Merseyside at least has an interesting angle to it. Go after those that are still alive and kicking and willing to talk about the rise of The Beatles in Liverpool. The area itself is a charming backdrop, showcased in the rich archives of found footage.
Much of that, depictions of the Liverpudlian piers and docks, the inclusion of Pete Best and his reflections on the earliest inceptions of The Beatles, are undeniably interesting. They paint a picture of the area that formed the four, but also the filth and smog of the place. Beauty is not attempted in that, it is not layered on thick, it is said as it is. Post-war rubble, The Quarrymen and their early days as well as friends of the band, chatting through how the area was shaped by this sudden cultural revolution. The Beatles: Made on Merseyside, for all of its quality interviews and the perspective it takes, feels like an oddly shoddy production. It feels like a tribute documentary that UK Gold would snap up to show in the early hours of the morning.
Incontinent pensioners are not the only audience for a documentary with this much quality to it. Look over the fumblings of Alan Byron’s direction and in comes a very broad documentary that has within it nuggets of real interest. Those early years are crucial, and The Beatles: Made on Merseyside makes an active and genuine effort to understand them. They do so successfully, if a bit repetitively. Old souls are burdened with the enviable task of recounting every tiny detail of a passing glance or brief association as re-enactments of a vague and butchered variety are carried through for the sake of having something else to look at. Best is, well, the best part of this one. His intimacies and friendships with the likes of John Lennon specifically are documented well and touchingly so.
Without managing to get the licensing for The Beatles’ music and instead relying on glossy, powerpoint-style editing and cover tracks, The Beatles: Made on Merseyside has a cheap glow to it. Stuart Sutcliffe is rightly mentioned in high regard, as are the likes of Ringo Starr, George Harrison and Paul McCartney. Anybody that is anyone is showcased with some link to The Beatles and The Beatles: Made on Merseyside makes for nice enough viewing. Those influences of the early years, the Fats Dominos and Gerry and The Pacemakers of the time, are paired together and the realisation of that Liverpudlian force is rooted right there. It is a similar wave to that of Sheffield’s three-decade stretch of incredible cultural offerings from Pulp to Richard Hawley to Arctic Monkeys and whatever lies next. The Beatles: Made on Merseyside inspires the hope of artistry while looking into one of the biggest and best bands out there.
