Nothing about this is normal—and that's the point.
When Sam Mendes announced he was making four Beatles biopics—one for each band member—Hollywood blinked. Then blinked again. Now, with the full roster of writers revealed, it's clear: this isn't just a series. It's a narrative experiment hiding inside a global IP.
Joining already announced Peter Straughan (Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, Conclave) and Krysty Wilson-Cairns (1917) are Jack Thorne, the emotionally surgical mind behind Adolescence and The Theory of Everything, and Jez Butterworth, the heavyweight behind Ford v Ferrari, Spectre, and Edge of Tomorrow. In short, Mendes has assembled a writer's room with the tonal range of an Abbey Road medley.
But here's the twist: they're not collaborating. Each script is being written in isolation. According to Straughan, the plan is Rashomon-esque—same story beats, different lenses. Imagine the “Get Back” sessions told four times. Four egos. Four truths. One band.
Why this matters: Hollywood's IP addiction just got a PhD.
The Beatles brand is a license to print money, but Mendes isn't cashing in. He's doubling down on artistic risk. No shared universe, no Marvel-ification. This is auteur cinema wearing a mop-top wig.
And historically, this structure is rare. Closest comparison? Maybe Steve McQueen's Small Axe anthology or I'm Not There's fractured Bob Dylan portraits. But even those didn't attempt Mendes' magic trick—four full-length films, shot consecutively, released weekly like a streaming binge for the theatrical age. (Sony confirmed the April 2028 rollout: one film each Friday.)
It's the Avengers: Endgame model flipped inside out—less spectacle, more perspective. And that's radical.
The casting's already stacked—and the choices are sharp.
Harris Dickinson as John Lennon. Paul Mescal as Paul McCartney. Barry Keoghan as Ringo Starr. Joseph Quinn as George Harrison. That lineup alone guarantees festival buzz. Add in a potential Yoko Ono played by Shōgun's Anna Sawai, and Mendes is clearly threading a needle: fidelity to iconography without falling into SNL impersonation territory.
Cinematography? Roger Deakins has reportedly been offered the gig. If he accepts, brace yourself: 1917-level immersion meets Beatlemania.
Here's the uncomfortable truth:
Most music biopics lie. They smooth edges, inflate arcs, turn pain into polish. But four writers, four points of view? That fractures the myth. That lets contradictions breathe.
In an era of algorithmic storytelling, Mendes is going analog—reel-to-reel, baby.
Would you sit through four Beatles movies in four weeks? Or are we about to witness the boldest flop since Heaven's Gate?
Comment below. We'll be here—watching the band break up, all over again.
