The Criterion Completionist on disc.
The Auteur Archivist on stream.
Really not a whole lot going on here at all, but Lubitsch trying to pass for a teenager is worth a few chuckles of the not funny kind. 28-year old Ernst trying to play 16 by wearing short pants is about the most hubris that this early film can muster. "Guy gets tossed out of school, guy with a foot fetish sells shoes" is about as interesting as you'd expect from reading that sentence. If you're not a Lubitsch fan this may be the longest hour of your life. If you are a fan, it will only feel like 50 too long minutes.
Call me a contrarian, but when I watch a fiction film (even when it's based on a true scenario), I want to watch actors. Filling your film with "real" people doesn't lend it an air of authenticity, it lends itself to self-consciousness and sing-songy line deliveries. So Frances McDormand comes across as inhabiting the pain and soul of a searching woman, David Strathairn as that of a man who knows he's missed too many opportunities. Everyone else hits their marks…
There's nothing to add that hasn't been said already.
It's as eye-opening as you've heard.
The footage is incredibly well-restored.
It's not nearly long enough.
Yoko is not the devil.
George needs a hug.
John is hilarious.
Ringo is zen incarnate.
Paul doesn't want to not be a Beatle.
Michael Linsday-Hogg is insufferable.
Glyn Johns needs to pick up the pace a bit.
Mal Evans would never have it better.
George Martin centers the universe.
Alan Parsons does his job.
Brian Epstein dying killed the Beatles.
Billy Preston saved the Beatles.
No one should eat that much toast.
We all needed this.