The Beatles in Paris (BBM 1964)

 The Beatles in Paris

By "Billy Shepard"

Beatle Book Monthly

March 1964

    Paris fell! Collapsed! Capitulated! Waved the white flag of surrender after only a few blasts of opening fire --fire that sounded very much like "She Loves You."The Fabulous International Beatles had struck again and infected a whole country with Beatlemania. 

    They took little time to settle in, but I was there to watch the excitement grow and grow among the fanatical French fans, until the Beatles finally left Paris after three weeks to a riot of hysteria. But was pretty chaotic early on. In fact, they nearly didn't even make it on time -Tuesday, January 14.  Ringo Starr was unable to meet the others in London, having been fog-bound in Liverpool. "I'll make my own way. See you all in Paris," he wired. And at London's airport, thick mist swirled around the buildings and the planes. "We've had it too," said Paul, looking anxiously at the sky, but the misty fog lifted-- lifted just enough to get planes in and out of the airport. 

    One plane, Comet 4B was extra special. It had three-quarters of the Beatles aboard, John, Paul, George, plus Brian Epstein and Mal Evans, press representative Brian Summerville, sundry others, me, and a load of photographers and reporters. The Beatles posed for a few pictures, waved to the fans who yelled "Good luck", and ran up the stairs and to the front of the of the plane. 

    A few minutes later, Captain A.J. Holderness eased the massive aircraft off the strip at 5:15pm.  35 minutes later, we coasted into Le Bourget Airport, a few miles outside Paris, and coasted into a mad rush that threatened to engulf the Beatles. Yelling, photographers, questioning reporters, gabbling in French, flashlights exploding all the way through the customs with The Beatles trying to maintain a trio of resolute grins. 

    Fans scream. Quite a solid batch of them, including eight-year-old Anne Maskell of Tooting, South London, on her way through to Austria with her parents. "It is the Beatles! It is!" She yelled excitedly. Paul flashed her a quick smile. 

    The boys were half-frog-marched through customs. Officials had time only to glance at the preferred passports. Then the Beatles were hidden in a mass of newspapermen-- and me -- into the car, the Beatles' Austin Princess driven by chauffeur Bill. More flashlights pop and often to the heart of Paris, to the fabulous, lush George V Hotel close to the Champs Élysées, a maze of people waiting. The swing doors revolve fast, pushed by a head doorman wearing a "chain of office."

     Inside, more pandemonium, everybody craning to get a look at the Liverpool lads. Voices of English fans rise above the French fast talk. More flash bulbs erupt. The management of this dignified, superfab hotel looked disturbed.

     Eventually, the Beatles get through to the comparative peace and quiet of their suites. John eyes the tapestries,  and the Louis Fourteenth furniture says, "Looks something like a museum." The others laugh. They laugh easily. For a moment, the tension is over. 

    There should have been a rehearsal that evening, but without Ringo, there was no point. Said George, "It's odd. Without Ringo, we sort of feel we've lost a limb." The "limb" was in Liverpool, making final preparations to catch a plane to London, and then straight across the following day, 

    John and Paul took that first night easily, just relaxed in their suite, calling for ciggies and for Cokes. George wandered off with a newspaperman, ending up in the expensive Eve club, watching a high-charged (in both ways) cabaret. "It's a smart place," said George, "but the music was pretty standard-- sort of swing. Nice as background to a chat, though."

      John and Paul thought back to the time they'd been in Paris before, flat broke, unable to afford a taxi without funds for a decent meal. "Maybe we'll buy the Eiffel Tower this time," said John with a grin. The boys made friends easily. Bruno Coquatrix, guv'nor of the Olympia, called round to see his latest signings, and a representative of Odeon Records, who released the boys' disc throughout France.

     When the room was finally cleared and with George still out on the town, the McCartney-Lennon partnership talked songs. Recording manager George Martin was coming to Paris and wanted to hear some brand new material. John and Paul were committed to writing six songs for the upcoming film, one for Billy J Kramer and one for Tommy Quickly, and they hoped to get the next single from that half dozen for the movie. Time was against them. "We'll get a piano moved into the suites," said Paul, "that'll help speed things up." Normally, the boys just worked with guitars.

     Those suites were fantastic. John and Paul shared because they had to cope with their songwriting chores. George and Ringo were together, though all four had communicating doors and were on the same landing. It was as though the Beatles entourage had taken over the bulk of the hotel.

     Top stars of all walks of life stay at the George V Hotel. For the first few days, film star Burt Lancaster was there, and yes, he had heard of The Beatles, and he only wished that there were more time available to meet them and get to know more about the British music scene. 

    On Wednesday morning, the Beatles were late getting out of bed. Nothing unusual! In a sense, they are night people, rarely properly waking up during the daytime. Brekkie was arranged, not the standard French one of rolls, butter, and coffee. They went for orange juice, corn flakes, pot of tea, a little cooked up mixture of scrambled egg and accessories. Said George, "I think we're gonna like Paris. I only hope the French people like us." They did. 

    The boys delayed showing themselves. They said they'd be up at 12 noon, and it was around three o'clock in the afternoon when they finally made an appearance out along the Champs Élysées, with photographers following their every move, cries of "It's the Beatles!" in German, French, and English, followed the boys. There were traffic jams. Scots teenager Inez Ufington was heard to say, " It's marvelous! I've not seen the boys before, now I feel weak at the knees..."

    The crowds grew great, but before they got out of hand, the Beatles were driven back to the Hotel George V to wait for Ringo. He arrived at Le Bourget at five o'clock, was picked up by a British car entering at the Monte Carlo Rally, driven by Stuart Turner, and rushed to join the rest at the hotel. Lucky he did, too, because the Austin Princess broke down coming back from the airport. Brian Summerville, along with the Beatles Monthly Book photographer, transferred to a taxi and left the Princess to be repaired.

     Many fans from Liverpool had heard that Ringo was driving all the way to Paris in one of the competition cars, and they flooded the switchboards, wondering about his route. They also flooded the switchboard at the George V Hotel. "Please, please. Let me talk to a Beatle!" came the calls, "We want to wish them luck."

     All four Beatles eventually made their way to the Cyrano Theater in Versailles, some 10 miles from the center of Paris. This was tryout night. The show started at nine o'clock and went until well after midnight. The boys went the proverbial bomb, numbers like "Roll Over Beethoven," "This Boy," "She Loves You." The latter, the audience knew well. The Beatles had a highly rated disc on this in France.

     A young audience. Gendarmes held them back as they tried to swarm backstage. Fans danced in the aisles and chanted "Les Beatles." One aged about 17, dressed in a red sweater, shimmied his way to the front of the stalls, rocking in time with the solid Beatles beat. He couldn't restrain himself any longer. He jumped up on the stage and started trying to do a dance routine with John Lennon. John went on blasting away at a set of lyrics, but couldn't help a quick grin. And on came the massive Mal Evans, road manager number two, to clutch the offender in his mighty arms and card him off into the wings.

    But it was noticeable that the audience actually let the Beatles be heard. You could pick up the words of songs, and there were more boys than girls in the audience, but everybody joined in the clapping during songs. One girl cried out in plaintive French, "I just can't anymore My hands are hurting me!"

     A riot-- in fact, something not exactly expected in the rather staid center of Versailles. The boys made a hectic getaway just in front of a mob of fans, and Ringo barely had time to observe, "The audience was so different from those in England; they don't seem to squeal. It's more that the boys set up a roar-- marvelous, and I think they liked us." They did.

Photo taken by Paul McCartney

     But the newspapers, the following morning, contented themselves with stories about how the Beatles had looked around Paris. They were surprised at John's garb, dark glasses, a leather hat in a somber black from Mary Quaint, and an alligator-type coat. Their every move was reported. This side of the trip was stressful at the time because the big testing period was still ahead. The grand gala opening at the Olympia Paris on Thursday evening.

     The Beatles had another huge surprise yet to come, though. They made their way back by fast car to the George V Hotel and up to the suite. Two of the boys took a quick bath in the marble-walled bathrooms. Then they sat talking, and the news arrived direct from London. Came this message: the boys are at the top of the American hit parade. 

Photo taken by Ringo Starr

    "The boys went mad," said Mal Evans, who happened to come into the suite immediately afterwards. "They always act this way when anything big happens, just like a bunch of kids jumping up and down with sheer delight. Paul climbed onto my back, demanding a piggyback. They felt that this was the biggest thing that had ever happened, and who could blame them? Gradually, they quieted down, ordered some more drinks, specifically Cokes, and sat down to appreciate fully what happened. It was a wonderful, marvelous night for all of them. I was knocked out."

     Celebrations went on until five o'clock in the morning. Somebody else rang through to say it was the fastest rising disc ever by any British artist in the States.  That Capitol Records had never known anything like it -- three weeks to hit the top spot, British or American! 

    The boys had plenty to talk about-- about their own trip to America, about the thrill of audience reaction that night in Versailles, and on to the next morning  (Morning for The Beatles starts sometimes after two o'clock in the afternoon) Olympia, the top music hall in France, where every season starts with a stuffed shirt audience on the opening evening, where minks and diamonds fill every other seat and where dinner jackets fill the rest.

     A small fronted theater, it looks singularly unprepossessing from the front, but once inside, it's beautifully decorated. Inside is a little bar with pictures decorating it of old variety acts, some of them were British. Modern, yes, but literally breathing the atmosphere of past show business idols who topped the Olympia bill. 

    The Stage Door is on a little side street. The Beatles arrived in the Princess, leapt out and hustled to the dressing rooms, a tiny room for the four boys with barely room to swing a guitar. At their hotel, they'd been used to a bigger bathroom each than the dressing room they had to share. 

    On the bill, Trini Lopez, also French songstress Sylvie Vartin, plus a full variety program, including the inevitable juggler. Trini closed the first half. Sylvie proceeded the bill topped the Beatles. Prices were high at 15 shillings minimum. 

    In the afternoon, the fans were in. They loved the boys. Later, sophisticated Parisians filled the seats. Again, the boys did well, despite three failures in amplification, with Malcolm Evans leaping onto repair the damage in an expensive theater, yet the electricity went wrong!

     No squealing, no screaming, but audiences, which clapped in time, appreciated every number. "Merci beaucoup," said Paul, the only French they attempted. The cameramen who were everywhere attempted slices of English. They mobbed the stage, firing off at every movement the Beatles made.

     But the real drama was going on backstage. Fists flew in that confined space. Malcolm Evans said "The trouble started when a French photographer was not allowed to take exclusive pictures." But there were other outbreaks of trouble. Paul called out for order. Nobody listened. George had to protect his guitar from swinging fists. The gendarmes arrived on the scene to try and sort things out. They only added to the chaos.

     On later evenings, the backstage area was declared "no man's land." The police positively refused to let anybody through. But the initial damage was done. In the rush of Beatlemania, many people who held genuine tickets were kept out of the theater. Some who did manage to get through found their seats had been taken and they had to watch the show from standing in the back of the stalls. Some of the audience left before the end, but that is standard practice in Paris. People want to avoid a crush. And outside stood crush barriers manned by truncheon-carrying policemen to curb the enthusiasm of the fans shouting, "Beatles. Beatles. Beatles!" outside.

    Brian Epstein, guiding light of the Beatles and George Martin were in the audience and heard the applause and the wave of enthusiasm. One felt sorry for Sylvie Varton, blonde and shapely, who had her act interrupted by the crowd's cries of " We want Les Beatles!" An ironic note was struck when part of the interval music at the theater was a gramophone record of the Shadows.

     The evening performance was an even bigger test for the boys. They did well. Though the French press were not particularly kind, the audience liked them, and so did the fans waiting outside the theater. French stars were there to cheer like Francois Hardy, Johnny Halliday, Richard Anthony, and Britain's Pet Clark. 

    The Beatles exit was hectic. A few more punches among photographers were slung, but the exit was made back to the hotel for a few hours kip before the papers came out. The press was frankly mixed. One (Parisian Libere) said it was "Daddy's rock and roll stuff, nothing very new."  Another (Aurora) suggested it was Trini Lopez who had triumphed. But one influential voice (France Sois) said, "The Beatles must have caused jealousy among the French pop idols, because never before had hands beaten in time so loudly at an Olympia opening."

    But the fans are the ones who matter, and the Beatles were besieged at their hotel by French boys and girls who wanted an autograph,  and by English girls who just wanted to speak to them. The disc shops made big displays of Beatles records. The posters on huge hoardings proclaimed their presence in Paris. Life for The Beatles went on from one rush to another. 

    The first Sunday, they had them doing three shows at the Olympia. They had to sleep. They had to keep dates with French photographers and journalists. Brian Summerville was the most harassed man in Paris.

     A typical day starts with sleeping until mid-afternoon, getting up and meeting important people, going to the theater and doing two shows, popping off and eating somewhere, getting back to the hotel, and talking about everything and anything until around five o'clock or even later.

     The critics had been unkind in the main. Some of the older folk had dismissed the Beatles with a curt "non," but the young fans were growing day by day. As the stay in Paris developed, the police had bigger and bigger crowds to deal with outside the theater. The boys became big idols, and not merely on the strength of a hit record. They were part of the bustling French scene.

     Whenever they could, they went out and viewed the sights. They took their £250 cameras with them and shot anything of interest. And still, the fans from England took time out and spared no expense in ringing the George V Hotel in the hope of getting a few words with the boys. 

    I watched the hysteria grow, and I felt proud of the boys. World interest in the Beatles had gone a stage further forward. By the end of the run, they were undisputed guv'nors of Paris. They'd captured all sections of the community. It was tough just watching them leading such hectic lives, I felt worn out.

     But the year was only just starting for The Beatles. They had before them America, and their first big film production; there were a million more photographs to pose for, 1000 interviews to give, and more vitally important shows to perform. They're great and wonderful ambassadors for Britain in any part of the world where pop music is important, which is most of the world, and yet it's only the beginning. It's a fantastic thought, isn't it?