In April 2028, cinema will attempt something it almost never dares: scale that matches myth. Sam Mendes’ The Beatles - A Four-Film Cinematic Event isn’t content with condensing the most dissected band in popular culture into a single, compromised runtime. Instead, Mendes is splitting the story four ways, releasing four interconnected films across four weekends, each centred on one Beatle. It’s an audacious structural gamble, and one that immediately separates this project from the usual biopic churn.
Crucially, the surviving Beatles, Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr, and the estates of John Lennon and George Harrison have signed off. Their involvement, however, comes with boundaries. Ringo Starr has already been candid about where he stands. Speaking to The New York Times, he explained that while Mendes’ writer delivered a strong script, it didn’t reflect his real-life relationship with his first wife: “He wrote it great, but it had nothing to do with Maureen and I… That’s not how we were.” Starr went through his script “line by line” with Mendes, adding, “He’ll do what he’s doing and I’ll send him peace and love.” That tension, approval without authorship, will loom large.
Casting, then, becomes everything.
Paul McCartney will be played by Paul Mescal, an actor operating at the peak of his cultural relevance. Mescal has described his immersion as total: “I’m obsessed with the Beatles at the moment… it’s part of my job, but it’s also the way that my brain is wired.” He’s also spent time with McCartney himself, calling him “an extraordinary man.” That proximity brings opportunity, and scrutiny.
John Lennon falls to Harris Dickinson, who has wisely resisted pure impersonation. After consulting Lennon's friend Tony King, Dickinson said the goal was to create a “now” version of Lennon, an approach explicitly compared to Austin Butler’s Elvis.
Barry Keoghan, cast as Ringo Starr, brings volatility and empathy in equal measure. He’s already met Starr, who played drums for him at his house. Keoghan has been clear-eyed about the task: “My job is to observe… but I want to humanize him and bring feelings to it, not just imitate.” Starr’s son Zak, meanwhile, offered one blunt note of advice: “Get a big rubber nose.”
George Harrison will be portrayed by Joseph Quinn, whose Liverpool roots give the role personal resonance. Supporting roles are stacked with precision: Saoirse Ronan as Linda McCartney, Anna Sawai as Yoko Ono, Aimee Lou Wood as Patti Boyd, and James Norton stepping into the precarious shoes of manager Brian Epstein.
This isn’t just a biopic. It’s a reframing, an attempt to let four perspectives coexist without collapsing into nostalgia or caricature. Whether Mendes can balance intimacy with enormity remains the central question. But one thing is certain: this project isn’t playing it safe. And with the Beatles, that might be the only honest way to do it.
