Filming “Help!” at Twickenham • Day 24

BEATLES BEAT IT UP WITH PROBY, JONES AND DYLAN HITS

“RINGO This Bell,” a fan had scribbled over the door at Twickenham studios at the weekend. So I did—and a benign gatekeeper turned up and led me on to the zaniest, most way-out film set in the business.

Stand outside at Twickenham — where the Beatles are in the final week of “Help!” — and you wouldn’t realise so much could be happening behind the high, grey walls and the shady trees. It looks more like a distinguished public school than anything else.

But inside! That’s something different! A number called “Lose That Girl” is scorching out of the record player, with the Beatles filming a scene in a recording studio.

John is singing on his own apart, while Paul and George join in on the refrain. Ringo drums with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. “You’re gonna loo-ooose that girl,” they sing in falsetto. It sounds good!

Everybody in the studio seems to have brought their wives and babies along. There are babies everywhere, gurgling. It’s more like a nursery than a film studio. But the atmosphere is happy and relaxed, and the Beatles take their cue instantly and professionally when the cameras roll.

Director Dick Lester obviously knows how to put them at ease. “Cut,” he shouts. “Save those lights.“

The giant arc lights go down and after a moment Paul sees me standing at the side of the set. “Oy!” he shouts to the others, “it’s Alan Smiff! Alan Smiff’s here.” Eyes turn towards me and for a while I revel in an embarrassed moment of glory. “See you,” I mumble across the studio floor, “when you’ve finished.“

It was more than an hour before filming stopped for lunch, but I didn’t move away from the set. The group provided an impromptu entertainment between the takes that was far too good to miss. I suppose you might have called it a jam session. Their instruments were connected up and while they were waiting for the cameras to be reloaded, they began to play a little light jazz. Paul tinkled the piano. It all seemed to start as a staccato version of Tom Jones’ “It’s Not Unusual,” and then the boys switched to Latin-American style for Ben E. King’s “Amor.” George switched to cymbals. It was music while you wait; onlookers loved every minute of it. Technicians tapped their feet as they walked about. Even the babies seemed to be cooing in time to the rhythm.

“Get that baby off the set,” John shouted in mock Otto Preminger tones. It broke everyone up with laughter. We were still waiting for the reloading when the Beatles began a cool version of “How High The Moon,” but it was cut short for a take of the “Lose That Girl” song.

When it was over Paul launched into a few recreational bars of a P.J. Proby impression (“I Apologise“), and then everyone joined together for “Michael Row The Boat.” All except George. He played “Can You Wash Your Father’s Shirt” on the piano !

Next we had John on the bongoes. It was turning into quite a show. “For your love,” he sang, hunching himself up like the Little Yellow God of Knotty Ash. “I wud give the stars above.” Paul helped out on the vocals and Ringo continued to assist on the drums, still with dangling cigarette.

This was followed by John twitching in time to George playing “Rule Britannia,” then giving us an even more hunched-up, eyes-screwed-up rendition of “Catch The Wind.” Or was it “The Times They Are A-Changin’“?

In the break that followed, George told me: “We’re very happy with this film. The director’s made a great use of colour, with weird effects and that. Just look at this scene… a recording studio, but made to look way out by the lighting effects. I don’t mind colour in a film if it doesn’t mean dancing about in a red shirt, like in one of Cliff’s. I don’t like that. I’m still doing a bit of photography myself, but not as much as I used to. We’ve just been given some of those instant Polaroid cameras, but I haven’t tried mine out yet.“

It was lunch time by now—and I had an invitation to eat with the group after they’d seen the day’s “rushes.”

“We’d let you see them,” said Paul, “but they’re a bit funny about it.”

“That’s right,” said George. “We had to bully the film people ourselves before they’d let us watch. No kidding. Our recording manager turned up last week and they wouldn’t let him in.“

Somehow I got the impression they were being serious… for once !

From New Musical Express – May 14, 1965