‘Man on the Run’ goes beneath McCartney’s Wings
One of the more indelible memories of my misspent youth is sitting beside my BFF, overcome with delirium, watching Paul McCartney tear down the decrepit Chicago Stadium in June 1976 as a member of his “other band,” Wings. Thanks to Oscar-winning documentarian Morgan Neville, that reminiscence has even more meaning now, knowing that Sir Paul considers the Wings Over America tour the pinnacle of his post-Fab Four career.
It’s one of the precious few tidbits learned while taking in Neville’s hugely entertaining but largely unenlightening Prime Video doc, “Paul McCartney: Man on the Run.” The title, a cheeky play on the handle of McCartney’s most successful album, 1974’s “Band on the Run,” is in reference to the 83-year-old’s impossible bid to flee from anything and everything Beatles. But deep down, you get the feeling that the underlying intent is to escape taking to his grave the onus of having been the evil wretch who broke up The Beatles.
“It was John,” we’re reminded more than once amid a chronological breakdown of how McCartney chose to spend the decade, both personally and professionally, following the band’s breakup in April 1970. This means tons of adorable home movies of Paul and the kids – and sheep – romping about High Park Farm, his dilapidated, middle-of-nowhere spread on Scotland’s picturesque Mull of Kintyre, aka “the end of the world.” There are also an equal number of lovely, artsy photographs snapped by both McCartney and his photog wife, Linda Eastman.
What we don’t see is Sir Paul himself. Well, not in the present, anyway. It’s all voiceover for him, as well as all of the other contributors, ranging from his daughters Stella and Mary McCartney, brother Michael McCartney, to former Beatles rival Mick Jagger, and of all people, Sean Ono Lennon, here to remind us that his famous pops was a closeted McCartney fan, and has the worn-out “Cherry” album to verify it.
By going faceless, the intimacy noticeably lacking. Wouldn’t we all prefer seeing the weathered mug of the current version of Sir Paul as his eyes well up while mourning his three most devastating losses: John, Linda and The Beatles? Heck, Linda’s death is never even broached. But that doesn’t mean the sorrow isn’t felt every time we see her young, vivacious, smiling face in a treasure trove of clips and snaps, circa 1968 to 1980.
She and her equally attractive second husband were undoubtedly the original holistic couple, living off the land, limiting their diet to edibles sans face and smoking lots and lots of pot, so much so that it practically rendered Sir Paul a ward of the Japanese state for seven years after stupidly attempting to slip some of the wacky weed past Tokyo customs in 1980. He did spend nine days in solitary confinement (cue the clip of Steve McQueen in “The Great Escape” to illustrate) before the Land of the Rising Sun sent him home, proving it, too, has two systems of justice, one for the rich and famous and one for everyone else.
But I digress. The real thrust of Neville’s flick is Sir Paul’s desire to “grow up” after the Beatles went kaput. Did I mention it was “all John’s fault”? That was October 1969, when Lennon allegedly told his mates that he was through. It was also the time of the ridiculous “Paul is Dead” mania sweeping the globe. In reality, Paul, Linda and Heather, Paul’s adopted daughter, had merely disappeared into the sticks of Scotland seeking privacy, not to stoke the “I buried Paul” fire. But an ambitious photojournalist hunted McCartney down, finding him knee-deep in sheep dookie. The intruder was not greeted warmly. The story goes that the heavily bearded ex-Beatle hurled a bucket at the cameraman, before McCartney, fearing negative press, welcomed the stranger into his shack on the condition he delete the incriminating photo.
Not long after, we’re told, Paul picked up his acoustic guitar and started writing again, eventually becoming the one-man band who would produce the widely panned “McCartney” (aka the Cherry) album that, upon its release in April 1970, signaled the end of The Beatles. That was quickly followed by “Ram” (also universally dismissed), which he recorded with Linda in their makeshift studio at High Park. Deemed a misfire in the wake of John (“Imagine”) and George (“All Things Must Pass”) releasing smash solo albums, McCartney says he was motivated to “make the best record you ever heard.” And in pursuit of that endeavor, he would surround himself with a proper band. Thus, the genesis of Wings.
Indeed, McCartney delivered his best album (although today, “McCartney” and “Ram” are also considered masterpieces). But not before testing it out on college campuses with impromptu concerts meant to recreate those good ol’ days back at Liverpool’s Cavern Club. Like then, the lads – and Linda, controversially on keyboards – were a hit. The rest is history.
One of the more interesting facts Neville (“20 Feet from Stardom”) unearths in his deep dive into the annals of Wings is how closely the band mimics Spinal Tap and that ensemble’s infamous issues with drummers. Wings burned through four or five of them, albeit by attrition, not death.
It’s also hard not to chuckle at McCartney’s naivety in believing he could form a band in which everyone was equal. When you’re arguably the world’s most famous musician, it’s doubtful you’re going to blend in. Alas, McCartney tells us, he realized this, accepted it and vowed to settle on just being a good boss. The revolving door of bandmates, except for former Moody Blues frontman Denny Laine (rhymes with “Penny Lane”), suggests that strategy did not go well.
But aren’t hardcore McCartney fans, myself included, already aware of that, as well as dozens of other factoids in Neville’s puff piece? We are, and that lack of fresh insight causes his film to drag in spots. But the never-before-seen photos and footage more than hold your attention. As does the generous use of Wings hits. Yet it fails to rival last year’s “One to One: John & Yoko” in terms of relativity. But it does have that unmistakable McCartney charisma going for it. Maybe not amazed, but you’ll definitely want to listen to what the man said.
Movie review
Paul McCartney: Man on the Run
Rated: R for language
Featuring: Paul McCartney, Michael McCartney, Sean Ono Lennon, Mick Jagger, Stella McCartney and Mary McCartney
Director: Morgan Neville
Runtime: 127 minutes
Where: On Prime Video starting Feb. 27
Grade: B
