Who Knew?
Illustration
Stories
The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. (v. 1)
I guess when your filmmaker Peter Jackson and you’ve managed to create a whole film industry in New Zealand thanks to the success of his two cinematic trilogies, “The Lord of the Rings,” and “The Hobbit,” you can give all the time you want to whatever project you fancy!
For one of his pet projects, Jackson spent years restoring all the aging black and white footage from World War I, synchronizing every inch of film so that all those marching soldiers no longer looked like extras from a Charlie Chaplain film, visiting every location on French soil so that he had the colors of the natural landscape exactly right, and recreating every sound using all gadgets and gizmos he’d invented to create the landscape of Middle Earth, in order to produce a stunning film about the Great War, “They Shall Never Grow Old.”
For his next project, he turned to involve an era which, if not so distant, can still seem like ancient history to some, while for others it seems like only yesterday. In 1969, The Beatles came together to produce a live show and album in a giant warehouse-like film studio. The idea was to get back to the way they used to do things, just a rock ‘n roll band that would have fun playing new songs and old favorites without any fancy effects — and to film the whole process of preparing for the event as well as the event itself. What that event was going to look like wasn’t quite clear, to The Beatles, the producer or the recording engineers, but they all showed up intending to have everything wrapped up in a matter of days.
A month later the project was still incomplete. Mired in total chaos, the lads from Liverpool moved on other projects, and would eventually record another album, the famed Abbey Road, before they broke up. Afterwards, the producer Ron Spector was brought in to knock a somewhat confused album (some songs were overproduced, one or two sounded like rehearsals) into shape. The result was “Let it Be.” The overall impression from the film was of a group that was falling apart.
Over half a century later, Peter Jackson obtained access to over sixty hours of film and 150 hours of audio recordings and with the permission and cooperation of the two surviving Beatles and the families of the other two he put together a three-part, eight-hour documentary of the entire process — from the miserable idea of recording in a cavernous film studio, through the tumultuous weekend after George Harrison quit the group, as well as the resumption of recording at the Abbey Road studios. Along the way, the four Beatles played old favorites, worked out new songs, and did put together some amazing music. It helped that at one moment pianist Billy Preston was brought in by George Harrison to help on keyboards and force everyone to both behave better and buckle down and record actual music.
The culmination of the film and the climax of the documentary comes with the so-called Rooftop Concert. All the previous ideas of filming in an ancient Greek theater, on a live volcano, in various European or English concert halls, were all scrapped. Someone, perhaps John Lennon, suggested that the rooftop of the studio there might provide enough room for the lads to play live for any bystanders listening from their windows in nearby buildings, or passersby on the street. It wouldn’t be announced. It would just happen.
And it happened. Six different songs, nine total takes, forty minutes. It was cold. Everyone wore heavy coats. At one point it started to rain. Folks started to gather, some confused, some enthralled, many enraged that someone was disturbing the traffic and the commerce. Police arrive, unsure of exactly what was happening, but certain that it was somehow illegal and needed to be stopped. Jackson skillfully wove the film of the Beatles playing with interviews of those on the ground and the police nervously doing their duty.
And so finally it was shut down and it was all over. Forty minutes. The last live performance of the Beatles. A momentous event, that would have sold out huge stadiums at colossal prices, performed for free this one time. And many present simply did not know what was happening, and even those who did objected vociferously and wanted it stopped and had no qualms about expressing their outrage on camera!
Now, sitting comfortably at home, watching the documentary Get Back, it seems impossible to understand how people could fail to miss this wonderful opportunity to hear the musical group that changed culture, recording, and music, whose career together would be relatively brief, and whose music lives on, as vibrantly meaningful now as a half century ago. But there it is! We can laugh at it. Or we can wonder if we would have done any better.
I’m reminded of what John the evangelist writes, in both his gospel, and here, in his first letter, where he states that the reason the world doesn’t know who we are is because “…it did know (Jesus).” Jesus was present among us, and though many were delighted and his word, many more were annoyed, enraged, worried about the economic impact his ministry might have, or were simply unaware of this unprecedented opportunity that came their way.
Is it any different now? Do we miss out on the presence of Jesus in the “least of these” among us. See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God, and that is what we are.
I guess when your filmmaker Peter Jackson and you’ve managed to create a whole film industry in New Zealand thanks to the success of his two cinematic trilogies, “The Lord of the Rings,” and “The Hobbit,” you can give all the time you want to whatever project you fancy!
For one of his pet projects, Jackson spent years restoring all the aging black and white footage from World War I, synchronizing every inch of film so that all those marching soldiers no longer looked like extras from a Charlie Chaplain film, visiting every location on French soil so that he had the colors of the natural landscape exactly right, and recreating every sound using all gadgets and gizmos he’d invented to create the landscape of Middle Earth, in order to produce a stunning film about the Great War, “They Shall Never Grow Old.”
For his next project, he turned to involve an era which, if not so distant, can still seem like ancient history to some, while for others it seems like only yesterday. In 1969, The Beatles came together to produce a live show and album in a giant warehouse-like film studio. The idea was to get back to the way they used to do things, just a rock ‘n roll band that would have fun playing new songs and old favorites without any fancy effects — and to film the whole process of preparing for the event as well as the event itself. What that event was going to look like wasn’t quite clear, to The Beatles, the producer or the recording engineers, but they all showed up intending to have everything wrapped up in a matter of days.
A month later the project was still incomplete. Mired in total chaos, the lads from Liverpool moved on other projects, and would eventually record another album, the famed Abbey Road, before they broke up. Afterwards, the producer Ron Spector was brought in to knock a somewhat confused album (some songs were overproduced, one or two sounded like rehearsals) into shape. The result was “Let it Be.” The overall impression from the film was of a group that was falling apart.
Over half a century later, Peter Jackson obtained access to over sixty hours of film and 150 hours of audio recordings and with the permission and cooperation of the two surviving Beatles and the families of the other two he put together a three-part, eight-hour documentary of the entire process — from the miserable idea of recording in a cavernous film studio, through the tumultuous weekend after George Harrison quit the group, as well as the resumption of recording at the Abbey Road studios. Along the way, the four Beatles played old favorites, worked out new songs, and did put together some amazing music. It helped that at one moment pianist Billy Preston was brought in by George Harrison to help on keyboards and force everyone to both behave better and buckle down and record actual music.
The culmination of the film and the climax of the documentary comes with the so-called Rooftop Concert. All the previous ideas of filming in an ancient Greek theater, on a live volcano, in various European or English concert halls, were all scrapped. Someone, perhaps John Lennon, suggested that the rooftop of the studio there might provide enough room for the lads to play live for any bystanders listening from their windows in nearby buildings, or passersby on the street. It wouldn’t be announced. It would just happen.
And it happened. Six different songs, nine total takes, forty minutes. It was cold. Everyone wore heavy coats. At one point it started to rain. Folks started to gather, some confused, some enthralled, many enraged that someone was disturbing the traffic and the commerce. Police arrive, unsure of exactly what was happening, but certain that it was somehow illegal and needed to be stopped. Jackson skillfully wove the film of the Beatles playing with interviews of those on the ground and the police nervously doing their duty.
And so finally it was shut down and it was all over. Forty minutes. The last live performance of the Beatles. A momentous event, that would have sold out huge stadiums at colossal prices, performed for free this one time. And many present simply did not know what was happening, and even those who did objected vociferously and wanted it stopped and had no qualms about expressing their outrage on camera!
Now, sitting comfortably at home, watching the documentary Get Back, it seems impossible to understand how people could fail to miss this wonderful opportunity to hear the musical group that changed culture, recording, and music, whose career together would be relatively brief, and whose music lives on, as vibrantly meaningful now as a half century ago. But there it is! We can laugh at it. Or we can wonder if we would have done any better.
I’m reminded of what John the evangelist writes, in both his gospel, and here, in his first letter, where he states that the reason the world doesn’t know who we are is because “…it did know (Jesus).” Jesus was present among us, and though many were delighted and his word, many more were annoyed, enraged, worried about the economic impact his ministry might have, or were simply unaware of this unprecedented opportunity that came their way.
Is it any different now? Do we miss out on the presence of Jesus in the “least of these” among us. See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God, and that is what we are.
