NAKED LENNON

I dreamed last night I was checking in to the Dakota in NYC with my wife.
Although I'd only ever stood on the outside with my nephew being snapped by a French tourist, the detailed chaos of the interior was a set piece which would have done justice to Polanski's TheTenant. For reasons unexplained, my wife and I were alloted separate rooms and I ended up in a filthy bedroom with clothes scattered everywhere. Suddenly, at the reception desk, I showed our passports indicating that we lived at the same address in Scotland; this seemed to suffice and it was agreed that we could share a room.

As I set out to look for her and as this was PC (pre-cellphone) finding each other in this cavernous yellow submarine became a panicked ride to the 42nd floor (hey, this is a dream!) and a stomach-crunching plunge to the street in a battered cage of a lift-enough to waken the dead, which it did.

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Last night I watched Lennon Naked on BBC 4: John loses his father; loses his mother; marries Cynthia; discovers Yoko; leaves Cynthia; leaves Julian; fights the world; takes his irascible self off to US and doesn't return-ever; continues taking a lot of drugs; doesn't believe in anything except himself.

His intermediate life between the break up of the Beatles and his flight to US, and his appearance, down to the schook, are brilliantly represented by Christopher Ecclestone. His acerbic wit biting all around him...except Yoko, played by Naoko Mori in high def verisimilitude.

I recall walking in Central Park and coming across an old hobo. Could have been John's father for all I know. There he was, the centre of attention amidst the milling tourists who had come to see Yoko's tribute to John-Strawberry Fields- across from the Dakota. The picture of John at his white piano was ignored and the only evidence of remembrance was a white rose .

Meanwhile, the old bum sat there the centre of attention with a swarm of cameras clicking away and I couldn't help thinking, "He knows where he's at and he knows what he believes in: himself!" Could have been an reincarnation of John himself if he hadn't been so old. "There's no half singing in the shower, you're either a rock star or an opera diva," Lennon said. With the old hobo, he knew who he was and gave it the full Monty. "Why lie, I need a beer and peace and love," said the sign, "and lots of sex" was added underneath.

Lennon had it right. How many millions of us are thinking we could have done so much more if only we had been driven by the angst that's necessary to create our inner world around us, the courage to be who we are. As Lennon says to Brian in a taxi, to paraphrase, "I am who I am." Implying, you'll just have to get on with it. Maybe we're more like John's pathetic father Freddy brilliantly played by Christopher Fairbank who keeps his Liverpudlian humour almost till the end, spiraling into a whirlpool of despair as John plays Mother and asks him what it's about. The screaming cadences at the end is a reminder of just how much emotion Lennon put in to a song. Unable to understand that the song is about him (or is he pretneding not to understand?) he says, "It's not the Beatles." He finally and tearfully replies to John's tirade against his father, "I tried my best,"

Very little of the beauty and tenderness of Jealous Guy and Mind Games: more Power to the People and Cold Turkey.

Paul's parting rejoinder to John's demands that he started the band and now he's finishing it, "If you do, you do: if you don't, you don't", are mocked with John's characteristic sardonic reply, "That could be the title of a song," or fuck you, Paul. I'm off.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00sv451

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