Martin Scorsese doesn't just make movies about mobsters or gritty streets. He makes movies about souls. When he sat down to direct the George Harrison: Living in the Material World film, he wasn't just checking off a box for a Beatles fan. He was trying to figure out how a guy who had literally everything—fame, money, the best guitars, and the loudest screams from fans—could still feel like something was missing. It’s a massive documentary. Over three and a half hours. But honestly, it needs every second.
You’ve probably seen the grainy footage of the Mop Tops a thousand times. This is different. Scorsese got access to the archives that Olivia Harrison, George’s widow, kept under lock and key for years. We're talking private letters, home movies that look like high-art cinema, and demo tapes where you can hear George’s breathing. It isn't a "Greatest Hits" reel. It’s a deep, sometimes uncomfortable look at a man who spent his life trying to bridge the gap between his bank account and his spirit.
The Quiet Beatle Who Wasn't That Quiet
People called him the "Quiet Beatle." That was always a bit of a lazy label, wasn't it? If you watch the George Harrison: Living in the Material World film, you realize he was actually incredibly opinionated, sharp-tongued, and hilariously dry. He just didn't want to play the game the way the press wanted him to.
The documentary splits his life into two distinct halves. Part one is the whirlwind. It's the Liverpool boy who suddenly finds himself in the middle of a global hurricane. Scorsese captures the claustrophobia of Beatlemania better than almost any other filmmaker. You see the faces of the fans, but you also see the exhaustion in George’s eyes. He was the first one to really want out. While Paul was flourishing in the spotlight and John was finding his political voice, George was looking at the exit sign.
He found India. That changed everything.
Ravi Shankar shows up in the film, and their relationship is the heart of the first half. It wasn't just a "sitars are cool" phase. It was a fundamental shift in how George perceived reality. He started seeing the "material world" as a distraction, a kind of beautiful trap. Imagine being in the most successful band in history and thinking, "This is all a bit of a nuisance, isn't it?"
Why Scorsese Was the Only Person for the Job
Why did the guy who made Goodfellas direct a movie about a Beatle? Because Scorsese is obsessed with the struggle between the flesh and the spirit. He’s been grappling with that in his own work since the 70s.
In the George Harrison: Living in the Material World film, Scorsese treats the subject with a sort of reverence that never feels fake. He lets the music breathe. There are long stretches where it's just a song and a series of photos, letting you soak in the texture of the 1960s and 70s. He doesn't rush the narrative. He understands that George’s life was about the slow burn, the gradual realization that fame is a hollow prize.
The interviews are top-tier. You have Eric Clapton talking about their weird, complicated friendship—including the time Eric fell in love with George’s wife, Pattie Boyd. They discuss it with a level of honesty that’s rare in celebrity docs. There’s no bitterness, just a strange, shared history. You also get Ringo Starr, who gets genuinely emotional. Seeing Ringo cry on camera is a gut punch. It reminds you that these weren't just icons; they were brothers.
The Dual Nature of the Dark Horse
George was a walking contradiction. He’d spend all day meditating and then go out and buy a race car. He loved gardening—like, really loved it—at his massive estate, Friar Park. But he also loved the roar of a Formula 1 engine. The film doesn't try to solve this mystery. It just presents it.
The title itself, Living in the Material World, comes from his 1973 album. The song is a plea for connection to the divine while being stuck in a world of taxes, egos, and physical bodies. Scorsese uses this as the guiding light for the entire project.
One of the most intense parts of the film covers the 1999 attack at Friar Park. A man broke in and stabbed George multiple times. It’s a terrifying segment. But the way George handled it—with a mix of bravery and a weirdly calm acceptance of mortality—says more about his spiritual practice than any interview ever could. He was prepared to leave the material world behind, even if he wasn't quite ready to go that night.
The Production of a Masterpiece
This wasn't an overnight project. It took years to edit. The sheer volume of material was staggering. Olivia Harrison served as a producer, and her influence is felt in the intimacy of the footage. She didn't want a hagiography. She wanted a portrait of the man she knew—the one who could be difficult, the one who was a perfectionist, and the one who had an incredible capacity for love.
- The Soundtrack: It’s obviously incredible, featuring rare takes of "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" and "All Things Must Pass."
- The Visuals: The restoration of the 16mm home movies is breathtaking. It looks like it was shot yesterday.
- The Length: 208 minutes. It's a commitment, but it's worth it for the context it provides.
Terry Gilliam and Tom Petty also make appearances, offering insights into George’s later years with the Traveling Wilburys and his foray into film production with HandMade Films. If George hadn't stepped in to fund Life of Brian, we might not have the Monty Python we know today. He literally mortgaged his house because he wanted to see the movie. That’s the kind of guy he was. He used his "material" wealth to fund things he believed in, regardless of the risk.
Actionable Ways to Experience George’s Legacy
If you've watched the film or are planning to, don't let it just be background noise. George’s life offers some pretty solid blueprints for navigating our own chaotic era.
🔗 Read more: TV shows with Georgia Groome: The underrated side of an indie icon
Go Beyond the Greatest Hits
Don't just listen to Abbey Road. Sit down with the All Things Must Pass triple album. It’s the sonic equivalent of the documentary. It’s dense, spiritual, and musically brilliant. Pay attention to the slide guitar—George’s signature sound. It sounds like a human voice crying.
Explore the HandMade Films Catalog
George’s impact on cinema didn't stop with his own documentary. Check out Withnail and I or The Long Good Friday. These films exist because George Harrison believed in independent voices. It shows a different side of his "material" influence.
Practice the "Quiet" Approach
In a world where everyone is shouting for attention on social media, George’s preference for the internal world is a vibe. Take a page out of his book. You don't have to go to India, but finding a space for reflection—away from the "material" digital noise—is arguably the best way to honor his memory.
The George Harrison: Living in the Material World film isn't just a biography. It’s a roadmap for anyone trying to find balance. It acknowledges that we all have to live in this world, pay the bills, and deal with the drama, but it reminds us that there's something else going on beneath the surface. As George would say, all things must pass. But the music and the spirit he left behind? That's sticking around for a long time.
Next Steps for Deepening the Experience
- Watch the film in two sittings: It was originally released as a two-part documentary for HBO. Don't try to power through all 3.5 hours at once. Let Part One (The Beatles years and India) sink in before moving to Part Two (The solo years, the Wilburys, and the end).
- Read "I Me Mine": George’s autobiography is more of a scrapbooked collection of lyrics and anecdotes. It’s the perfect companion piece to Scorsese’s visual narrative.
- Listen to the "Early Takes: Volume 1" album: This was released alongside the film. It features raw, acoustic versions of his songs that highlight the vulnerability Scorsese captures on screen.