Help!

Help! takes up where A Hard Day's Night left off. The Beatles have come of age. In fact, they seem a bit complacent, even bored, because they've survived the struggle for existence. Paul's grandfather has left them alone, seas of screaming girls no longer rumble down railroad platforms after them, platoons of bobbies don't chase them through London any more. The city and its people accept them.

So the foursome must face lesser issues: for instance, how to keep Ringo from the clutches of an ineffectually diabolical oriental cult, a mad scientist armed with a portable model of Goldfinger's lazer, and Roger the man-eating tiger. The ceremonial ring of this cult, the Kaili (pronounced kah-ee-lee), is stuck on the fourth finger of Ringo's right hand, and without the ring the Kaili can't continue their sacrifices. Their victims, by the way, all beautiful young girls, are painted bright red before they're slaughtered. This crazy scientist thinks he can rule the world with the ring, which like Superman's costume, is made of an indestructable material entirely unknown to man. The tiger is just there for laughs. But nothing can shake our boys, and we know from the first frame that their version of the British way of life will triumph.

Help! is not just an enormously funny movie. It's also a sharp piece of social criticism, for what could be more absurd than a society that bestows royal honors on a rock 'n' roll group for the group's contribution to the country's balance-of-payments deficit? The Beatles give the Establishment the axe, and the chief executioner is John Lennon.

"So you're the famous Beatles?" a Scotland Yard inspector asks. "How long do you think you'll last?"

"Tell us about the great train robbery, Mr. Inspector," Lennon answers.

To Lennon, everyone is a failure. When every saw has broken on Ringo's ring, the Jeweler declares that he must use the wheel. "The wheel?" says Ringo. "Even the Royal House of Hanover had the wheel, sir," replies the Jeweler. And when, of course, the wheel breaks, Lennon sneers, "Jeweler, you're a failure, aren't you, Jeweler?"

In fact, the Beatles have no respect for anything, not for Beethoven or for James Bond. Roger the tiger responds favorably only to the chorale from Beethoven's Ninth, so when Ringo is trapped with Roger, Lennon yells, "Ringo, sing famous Beethoven's famous Ninth Symphony." Bond's deadly Aston-Martin becomes a Mr. Whippy truck that leaves a trail of thumbtacks, and Alligator's camouflaged House of Parliament--a parody of a parody--becomes the Kaili's sacrificial temple, brought from the Orient to Bermuda.

Peering through the mayhem is Richard Lester, a director whose style perfectly fits the Beatles' humor--fast-moving, irreverent, surprisingly low key. Although no scene is more than a minute long, and the dialogue is always rapid, there's no tension, just excitement. Lester keeps you aware of the fun he's having in playing with colors, with camera angles, with special effects, and he keeps you interested not only in what the Beatles are going to do, but also in what he's going to do.

Between protecting themselves from various attackers, the Beatles sing six songs, which they enjoy most of all. You will too.