ANOTHER TAKE

• Published date: 23 October 2021
• Publication title: Mix, The

On paper, the idea looked brilliant. In the opening weeks of January 1969, the Beatles were working up new songs for a televised concert, and being filmed as they did so. Where the event would take place was unclear — but as rehearsals at Twickenham film studios went on, one of their associates came up with the idea of travelling to Libya, where they would perform in the remains of a famous amphitheatre, part of an ancient Roman city called Sabratha. As the plan was discussed amid set designs and maps one Wednesday afternoon, a new element was added: why not invite a few hundred fans to join them on a specially chartered ocean liner?

Over the previous few days, John Lennon had been quiet and withdrawn, but now he seemed to be brimming with enthusiasm. The ship, he said, could be the setting for final dress rehearsals. He envisaged the group timing their set so they fell into a carefully picked musical moment just as the sun came up over the Mediterranean. If the four of them had been wondering how to present their performance, here was the most gloriously simple of answers: ‘‘God’s the gimmick,’’ he enthused.

Paul McCartney seemed just as keen: ‘‘It does make it like an adventure, doesn’t it?’’ he said. Ringo Starr said he would rather do the show in the UK, but did not rule out the trip: ‘‘I’m not saying I’m not going,’’ he offered, which sounded as if he was open to persuasion.

But George Harrison was not interested. He feared ‘‘being stuck with a bloody big boatload of people for two weeks’’. The idea of getting to Libya on a ship, he insisted, ‘‘was very expensive and insane’’. When Lennon suggested they could get a cruise liner for free from P&O, Harrison flatly pointed out that, despite their celebrity, the Beatles had trouble even getting complimentary guitar amps.

Among an array of other ideas for a concert venue, there were also mentions of the Royal Albert Hall, the Tate Gallery, an airport, an orphanage and the Houses of Parliament. But whatever the suggested setting was, everything seemed to founder on a mixture of inertia, logistical impossibility and Harrison’s implacable opposition. Indeed, two days after the longest conversation about Sabratha, Harrison would temporarily walk out of rehearsals, with the deadpan line: ‘‘See you round the clubs’’. When he returned, it was seemingly on the basis that the idea of a spectacular live performance would be shelved.

In the end, there was a compromise. Having begun working at Twickenham, the Beatles relocated to a makeshift studio in the basement of 3 Savile Row, the central London address that was the home of their company Apple. The plan for a televised concert was abandoned, and it was agreed — just about — that the group was now being filmed for a feature-length documentary. And, on Thursday, January 30, the four of them — joined by the American keyboard player and singer Billy Preston — played, with a mixture of panache and joyous energy, on the Apple building’s roof. No-one knew it was their last public performance, but, in retrospect, they ensured that such a significant moment passed off almost perfectly.

Such was the finale of four weeks of filming and recording that eventually resulted in an 80-minute feature-length film titled Let It Be, and the...