Yesterday

Yesterday (2019) 

Starring Himesh Patel and Lily James
Directed by Danny Boyle 

Danny Boyle is one of the UK's most successful directors, of theatre, television (including episodes of Inspector Morse) and film (of titles including Trainspotting, 28 Days Later, and Slumdog Millionaire, for which he won a Best Director Oscar).  Most famously, perhaps, he is known for the spectacular opening ceremony of the London 2012 Olympic Games (Isles of Wonder).  His latest film Yesterday is written by Richard Curtis (Blackadder, Notting Hill et al), from a story by Curtis and Jack Barth.  It tells the tale of Jack Malik (Himesh Patel), a struggling young musician in the East of England who, just as he has given up on music, is injured in a freak bus accident during an unexplained global-wide blackout, and awakes to find himself in "a really really really complicated situation", because he seems to be the only person on Earth who remembers the music, and indeed the very existence of The Beatles.  Disbelieving at first, he eventually starts playing some of those songs, which prove understandably popular, leading to acclaim, success, and stardom.  As this unfolds, he struggles to come to terms with his feelings for his long time best friend, manager, and loyal supporter Ellie (Lily James).  He loves her, she loves him, but neither will come out and say it.  Where could this all be leading?  It's a simple but tantalizing premise, albeit one borrowed from the BBC sitcom Goodnight Sweetheart,  which gives rise to a part gentle romantic comedy, part comment on the nature of fame, commercialism, loyalty and honesty, and part feelgood film filled with familiar, brilliant songs.

Most of the humour is front-loaded.  Jack's frustrated attempts to get the songs heard, particularly by his parents (the always brilliant Meera Syal and Sanjeev Bhaskar) who are particularly amusing ("What's this one called?" "Leave It Be"), the bemused reaction of his friends, including Carol (Sophia Di Martino), who reacts to his tentative rendition of the title track ("it's one of the greatest songs ever written"), with "It's not Coldplay.  It's not Fix You".  He struggles to remember some of them, the words to Eleanor Rigby proving especially problematic; and there's a brilliant running gag in which he tries to find evidence of the Fab Four on the internet, turning up only links to beetles and Pope John Paul II.  Later, he discovers similarly that Oasis, cigarettes and Coca Cola never existed.  There's an amusing satirical moment when a team of marketing executives challenge his intention to release a record named The White Album, due to his ethnicity.  The altered reality mood of the set-up is heightened by the plausible reaction of those in the business.  It's played for a laugh though, when it could have tackled the issue of how rock and roll has been populated by examples of white people stealing, or at least appropriating black musical traditions; here's a person of colour doing the same in reverse, but it comes to naught.

There's a an amusing supporting role - more than just a cameo - by Ed Sheeran , unfairly criticised everywhere he goes these days, but who does a better job playing himself than many others have done.  Sheeran takes Jack under his wing, and despite some questionable suggestions ("Let me just give you this advice.  Song title. Hey Dude") mentors him to the very top.  Patel, hitherto best known from Eastenders, does a solid job both singing and acting, expertly capturing the conflict and insecurity of someone who knows the plaudits he's receiving stem from a falsehood.  James is good too, loving and enthusiastic without being gushing.  Kate McKinnon plays a gloriously insensitive record company executive in one of the film's less subtle characterisations ("We pay, and you write songs, and then we make a ton of money.  And we take most of it").  Very funny  also, filling the comedy sidekick role (think Rhys Ifans in Notting Hill), is Joel Fry, of television's guilty pleasure Plebs.  Boyle directs with a steady hand, showing less of the visual innovation he sometimes does, but imbuing what is essentially a Richard Curtis film with a reliably overriding love of music, and how to use it to complement the story and images on screen.  But when contrasted with the wild innovation and experimental nature of the band's own excursions into cinema, it comes across as all the more flat.

Chiefly, this is a celebration of the everlasting brilliance of the Beatles' music.  Patel doesn't exactly master these songs, which are undeniably an integral part of popular culture in Britain and the world, but pays them due service.  They are not only hugely influential for countless musicians who have followed them, they are also incredibly diverse.  From the rock and roll tinged tracks of the early days (I Want to Hold Your Hand, I Saw Her Standing There), the tender (Something, Here Comes the Sun), the epic (Hey Jude, Let It Be - and nice to hear Carry That Weight make it in), to the goofy (Ob-La-Di, Ob-la-Da, which Lennon hated, and described as "Paul's granny shit").  For the most part they are appropriately handled, such as when Jack knocks out a storming version of Back in the U.S.S.R for a crowd in Moscow while supporting Sheeran on tour.  There is only one truly sour note, when All You Need is Love is unsubtly trotted out, Curtis pulling off the implausible feat of utterly soiling that tune twice after his dismal efforts in Love Awfully  But this tries hard not to be a simple Beatles karaoke exercise with songs crowbarred in as they were for Abba with Mama Mia, nor even used to tell an emotional story, as with Elton John's works in Rocketman; it's not a musical as such, just gentle, generally pleasing film which just happens to be full of timeless songs.   

It's at its most interesting when it poses the central moral dilemma; what is Jack's motivation?  Is it personal gain, self-fulfillment, is he doing it just to win Ellie's love, or is there a genuine altruism at play, an urge to spread happiness by bringing this wonderful music (back) to the people?  A much-debated appearance by Robert Carlyle in the film's final third seems to underline this question and posit an answer.  Some have really taken against this, but I found it to be quite poignant and effective.  A curve-ball is thrown when it appears that some people actually do remember, and there's an ominous threat that Jack could be exposed as a fraud at any time.  A silent, mysterious pair (Sarah Lancashire and Justin Edwards, as Liverpool Stranger Liz and Moscow Stranger Leo respectively) are shown shadowing Jack's movements, at one point observing him visit Penny Lane in search of inspiration.  Ultimately the resolution is benign, which sums up the problem.  Yesterday seems to want to have its cake and eat it.  It hints at being challenging, but by its very nature and intention can't allow things to go badly.  When Jack admits that he didn't write these songs, in front of a full house at Sheeran's Wembley Stadium concert, the crowd boos.  But when he declares his love for Ellie moments later (regardless of the effect it might have on her current boyfriend) they cheer.  Fleetingly rousing, it's ultimately a little unpleasant.

Yesterday doesn't address what it is that The Beatles contributed.  Some of their recording methods, particularly in the latter stages of their time together, after famously abandoning the exhausting world tours which had solidified their reputation, under the tutelage of genius producer George Martin revolutionised the way music was presented.  But, nor does it really attempt to.  Great tunes are ironed out for the Pop Idol generation.  It rests on the assumption that the Beatles' success wasn't simply a result of the age in which they played, a happy conjunction of right place right time.  In today's world of rent-a-rapper on every virtually identical auto-tuned pop hit, would the same affect have been achieved?  Would Jack really lose an on-the-spot songwriting contest with Sheeran (who sportingly admits "You're Mozart, man. I'm definitely Salieri" when he loses to Jack)?  Things could have been a bit more challenging and interesting if he had.

Its speculative premise is whimsical, charming even, but its style somewhat drab.  Boyle's expected flair is mired in the restraining conventions of the genre; it feels like wading through a river of treacle, primarily of Curtis' making.  If one person leaves the cinema with a smile on their face - and there have been many - or if another goes away to listen to Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band in its entirety, the film has done its job.  It aims to be an inoffensive  fairytale sitting on a towering songbook. It wants to hold your hand, not too tightly, and ultimately  ends up feeling like a cynical missed opportunity.