OK, you got me. This is more like my 24th Look. I’ve seen this film more times than I remember, starting way back in 1979 or so. However, I feel it’s time to look at it with new eyes. Wide awake ones.
First: The positives. This is a very funny spy parody a lá James Bond films of the Sixties, which is appropriate since it’s from 1965. It’s in gorgeous Technicolor. The Beatles are at their handsomest, and musically the songs are good if not their best (exceptions: Ticket To Ride, You’re Gonna Lose That Girl and the title track, all classics). Victor Spinetti and Roy Kinnear make a great comedy duo as the mad scientists who want the ring on Ringo’s finger. There is a lot of comedic craziness. It was a great way to spend ninety minutes back in the day, if not as good as A Hard Day’s Night.
So for the good. Now for the bad. Or, perhaps a more descriptive word: Problematic.
Where to begin? Let’s start with the most apparent sin: brownface. Not a single actor who is playing a Native Indian is actually of Indian descent, to my knowledge. Certainly Leo McKern and Eleanor Bron aren’t. This is the most obvious sin that the film commits, since it’s the very first thing you notice when you start the picture. However—and you may disagree, which is understandable—I’m willing to cut them a break on this one. It was filmed (mostly) in the UK, and there weren’t many Indian actors there then for lots of reasons, so they used what they had, which were Caucasian actors. At the time, most audiences didn’t even notice. (I do wonder what Indian audiences thought. If anyone has an answer, please post.)
Next, and worse IMO, are the stereotypes. Indians are portrayed as murderous thugs and dimwitted. Although, as far as the latter goes, everyone in the film with the possible exception of the Beatles is dimwitted. That includes the head of Scotland Yard, the two British scientists, and the bystanders. But the depiction of every single “Indian” actor in the cast as being out to sacrifice poor Ringo to the goddess Kaili is disturbing, to say the least. Even Ahme (Bron, who has a crush on Paul) is willing enough to slaughter Clang (McKern) in the end when he gets the ring stuck on his finger.
I won’t offer an excuse for this except the feeble one that we didn’t fucking know. You’ve all seen old movies. Any foreigner is an evil slinking murderer who is simultaneously brilliant and an idiot. It’s what books and films did, particularly the British ones, but anywhere in the Western world. Its time seems to be mostly over, and I’m glad of it. So it’s very hard for me now to watch Help! without wincing a great deal, and not laughing nearly as much as I once did.
Buuuttt I still watch it. Why? Well, of course; John, Paul, George and Ringo1.
Is that a good enough excuse? Perhaps not. I would tell any new, young Beatles fan to approach this film with extreme caution. Some may decide that it’s not worth the viewing, and they’ll choose to just enjoy the album. More power to them, I say.
Having seen the film, though, I personally am not prepared to give it up. There are a lot of good bits with Spinetti and Kinnear which are still funny. There are bits with just the Beatles which are also funny, if you just block out who’s trying to kill them. And, FWIW, there is a scene which helps remind me that Lester had a sly sense of humor: the one in the Bahamas, when the Scotland Yard inspector is introduced to a line of PCs, all of them Black. “May I introduce PC 35…PC 7…PC 24…PC 9….” and so on. What the inspector doesn’t know is that each PC is ducking behind the line to pop up at its end, so there seem to be many more PCs than are really present. I see this as a dig at the idea that all Black people look alike. But this is just my take.
Apart from the problematic stuff, I will say that this movie was never as good as either AHDN or Yellow Submarine. The Beatles are even more caricatured than they were in the first film. Paul’s the cute one2, John the sly, sarcastic one, George the mercenary, and Ringo the dim bulb whom we all loved and pitied. They hated it, particularly John. He said the film was “bullshit”.
John may be right. Sometimes, though, you enjoy a bullshit film. And I still (mostly) enjoy Help! But I’m aware of its faults now. (And remember: This was the film which introduced George Harrison to the sitar, and developed his appreciation for Indian music and culture, which he constantly championed for the rest of his life.)
(This trailer for the BluRay release shows almost no faux Indians, unlike the original.)