rhythm, the audience but a nearsighted blur. Paul sings with the same total commitment but is more self-aware, mostly looking up at the ceiling, making only occasional eye contact with the audience. George, off to the side, is solidly good on guitar and can’t suppress one wry, shy smile. Ringo is doing his job mostly in shadow, but close-ups catch him laughing and enjoying himself. Looks pass between them, they’re confident with who they are, where they are and what they are, and they’re ready to fly.
