Broad Street

While watching this movie, I couldn't help but wonder just how much pot Macca was smoking at the time. How else could one explain the otherwise inexplicable '80s Eurotrash kitsch of "Silly Love Songs," or the "Eleanor Rigby" sequence?

Although ostensibly directed by Peter Webb, rumor has it that Paul actually took full control of the film early on, and the lack of directorial experience shows (rather painfully). Paul is credited with writing the script (such as it is), which seems to have been composed on a napkin or on the back of an envelope.

The "plot," or rather "dramatic scenario," (if it can even be dignified as such) seems to be something of an echo from the equally flimsy premise of "A Hard Day's Night," in that the protagonist(s) (Paul or The Beatles) are shown romping around a TV or film studio of some sort, constantly passing by costumed actors and extras, the whole thing serving as merely an excuse to perform their songs. I suppose one could claim that the setting in both films could be interpreted as a commentary on the "artifice" and theatricality of showbiz, or some other such pretentious mush. But where "A Hard Day's Night" overcame its lack of plot and low budget with the raw enthusiasm, charm, and sly humor of the Beatles in 1964, the 1984 Paul possesses none of these qualities, instead content to waltz around gaudily decorated, overblown sets in a kind of dope-fueled haze. Paul, and everybody else in the film, including Tracey Ullman, Ringo, Paul's wife Linda, Ringo's wife Barbara Bach, and Beatles producer George Martin seem bored silly, as if they can't wait for the shoot to be over. The film is supposed to be a "dream within a dream," and they certainly act as if they're sleepwalking through it!

Ah, well--at least you can get a nice hit of trashy, kitschy '80s nostalgia from it.

Sure, I love the Beatles.

And sure, I respect Paul McCartney--especially when he has the courage to make mistakes. And he does admit himself that he messed this particular film up in the book "Paul McCartney: 20 Years On His Own".

I expected the film to be lousy and all, and hoped for at least a few nice musical performances. And, of course, I've heard all the critics' comments about its general lousiness as well as the users' remarks on here.

So what was my take on it?

Well, after seeing it and thinking about all who have said, "Yeech! It's a BOMB!" and everything...

I disagree--in a way. Despite the boring and goofy plot, uninteresting situations and thorough silliness, "Give My Regards To Broad Street" isn't terrible: it's just pretty bad. There are enjoyable music selections here, and even some which are genuinely touching.

The entire opening medley showing Sir Paul performing "Yesterday/Here, There and Everywhere/Wanderlust" is wonderful, as is the smoothly gliding loveliness of "So Bad". It is during these sections when you see that Paul's film, as he had explained in the above-mentioned book, was originally intended to be simply a series of music videos shown on television.

However, a terrific version of "Silly Loves Songs"--which is arguably superior to the original--is ruined by the visuals that accompany it. It's not the fact that everyone is done up in elaborate makeup; I don't mind that. It's just that all they do is simply stand in place like statues, barely moving at all while playing their instruments as an annoying breakdancer moves around on the floor in front of them. What on earth McCartney was trying to accomplish here I have no idea.

One sequence which produces unintentional giggles here is the "Eleanor's Dream" sequence. That acting. Those goofy FAKE SIDEBURNS!

Even sillier is the ending: it makes no sense whatsoever in a thread plot that already makes next to no sense to begin with (it makes the likes of "Purple Rain" look positively brilliant scriptwise), and features the biggest unintentional guffaw in the film: a scene in which Paul imagines himself as a street performer.

Interestingly enough, though, there is one strange feeling that this film gave me, and believe me, I never thought Paul McCartney would ever give me this kind of reaction with anything: a powerful wash of 80s nostalgia! Paul is dressed here precisely in the sort of outfit that so many wore during the "Miami Vice" craze, and sports one of those poofy 80s haircuts...the exact same sort of look I personally sported during the time!...that alone brought back weird reminders of my least favourite decade. Not that it's a bad thing, but it's something I just thought I'd mention in case anyone's into that sort of stuff.

All things considered, though, I've seen far worse films than this. It still entertains because it works better as a music video collection than as a movie, and you won't be as disappointed as you might be if you simply treat it as such. If you dig McCartney and The Beatles, there are bound to be at least one or two sections you like in here. Somewhere. Whether or not you have the patience to sit through the whole thing in order to see what they are is up to you.

What this movie really needs the most is a DVD re-release. That way everybody can simply skip over to whichever sections they like best rather than having to constantly rewind/fastforward just to find them.

Paul and Co. do a wonderful job here. Not a bad film attempt for a man whose only previous movie work was hamming it up with the other Beatles. Set design, locations, song selection, performance all top notch. If you are looking for a "Popeye Doyle" put to music, keep looking. If you love the work of Paul, you have found a great movie! The acting is surprisingly good...Paul emotes, Ringo deadpans, Brian acts as a fine Englishman should. Bit parts by Linda McCartney, Barbara Bach, Tracey Ullman, Giant Haystacks and Sir Ralph Richardson all meld together beautifully. Do not believe the reviews that came out in 1984. They were probably written by left-over stones fans. Paul it's time you recorded "McCartney III" and did another film. Cheers!

I'm not going to review the film per se because so many have done that. I want to explore Sir Paul's motivations for making this film. He said on the Tonite Show that he had had his season of mania with the Fab Four and wanted to explore something different. At the time he's a father of four and lives a full but more sane lifestyle. I don't care if you're a nobody or a famous entertainer, everybody gets the jitters when putting themselves out there with something new. It's a frightening proposition. I acted in a movie that made the Tribeca Film Festival and went on to Netflix. Critics were not very kind to us and for my part there was only one critic that wrote _the movie would then cut to pointless scenes with the father of the protagonist_ At least it wasn't personal! The slings and arrows hurt Sir Paul as much as they hurt me.

People complain that it's not so much a movie as it is an extended music video, it has no arc and has disjointed scenes (possibly the same critics that gave _HELP_ rave reviews.) Approach it like that, as a fan of Sir Paul. The Eleanor Rigby scene in the theater was wonderful I thought. Expect it to be just an extended music video with Ringo and Paul dressed in period costume rowing down a river for no logical reason. And give him some grace and kudos for putting himself out there. I did, and as a Beatles fan growing up in the 60's I enjoyed it. I didn't love it, but I did enjoy it.

A movie for two kinds of people:

(1) Avid admirers of the undeniably talented Paul McCartney who are interested in watching their hero branch out into startling new directions (acting, screenwriting), as well as to see and hear him perform one of his best songs from the 80s (the lovely "No More Lonely Nights") and offer fresh reinterpretations of his many hits (including a version of "Here, There, and Everywhere" that may be superior to the much loved rendition that appears on the Beatles' "Revolver" lp); and

(2) Those who take a mean-spirited pleasure in seeing one of the high and mighty fall, quite spectacularly, on his face. The stench from a dozen bad Elvis movies could not hope to compete with the travesty that is this film. But then Elvis had the good sense not to write his own screenplays. Then again, there really isn't a screenplay here at all, only a credit for one given to Mr. McCartney. That, it seems, is the problem. The cast, including Ringo Starr, just stand in front of the camera with nothing to do. Only when McCartney is performing does this egomaniacal enterprise show any competence or even signs of life. Next to this, "Magical Mystery Tour" is the classic that Mr. Mac seems to think it is.