Over decades of Beatles literature, John Lennon’s reputation has shifted from maverick genius to bullish misogynist, Paul McCartney’s has changed from melodic lightweight to venerable rock veteran, and Ringo’s stature? Well, he has always been Ringo. But throughout the years, manager Brian Epstein’s reputation as a mountebank out of his depth – whether it was from Lennon spilling his guts to Rolling Stone Magazine or Philip Norman’s dubious portrait of the man in Shout! – has lingered. Midas Man offers a fresh take on Epstein’s story, showcasing a man driven by belief and commitment, but haunted by a personal life that threatened to overshadow his achievements.

The fln opens in a synagogue where the lead character tries to persuade his parents to sell pop records in their family store. Unsure what to make of it, his mother Queenie (Emily Watson) gives the go ahead, and the NEMS shop enjoys a period of success selling vinyl. Harry Epstein (Eddie Marsan) is concerned about his son Brian, not least because of his condition: homosexuality. But the younger Epstein continues to pursue his goals, complete with a peppy accent he acquired at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, when he hears a fiery rock band at the Cavern Club that changes his life.

Thematically, Midas Man is a work about discrimination: The Beatles struggle to gain acceptance in an England that regards them as “frankly, yobos,” much as Epstein has to endure beatings from lovers in a Britain that still regards homosexuality as a crime. The film hinges on Epstein’s performance, and Jacob Fortune-Lloyd certainly delivers as the nervy, bolshy manager who tries to reconcile the rigours of his work against his personal life. During one impressive montage, Fortune-Lloyd delivers an impassioned, exposition-heavy monologue against a backdrop of shifting, flashing images that shows the band’s journey from Liverpool legends to global superstars. Throughout the speech, Epstein’s dependency on medication grows more apparent, as he sifts through cocktail after cocktail, drowning the pills terrifyingly quickly. Fortune-Lloyd’s appearance never changes – there are no weight jumps from thin to fat like Robert De Niro does in Raging Bull (Martin Scorsese, 1980) – but the mouth wobbles betrays a man struggles in an ever changing world.

Beatles historians may pick holes in the film (director Joe Stephenson tellingly avoids making comment about Eptsein’s rumoured fling with Lennon in Spain), but the acting is pretty high from the cast. Watson and Marsan are believable as the Jewish parents fearful of change in a country that barely accepts them as their own, Charley Palmer Rothwell plays record producer George Martin with conviction and posh abandon, and Jay Leno enjoys his cameo in the role of television impresario Ed Sullivan. Of the three Beatle frontmen, Blake Richardson (the jolly Paul McCartney, who comes late to the first business meeting after a nice bath) is the one who comes closest to realising his character’s real life vocal tics and facial expressions. Jonah Lees is a solid John Lennon, but Leo Harvey-Elledge never truly finds the heart behind George Harrison, making him more of a 1960s equivalent to Liam Gallagher (incidentally, Harvey-Elledge played the Oasis frontman in Creation Stories (Nick Moran,2021)).

After Lloyd-Fortune, Adam Lawrence delivers the film’s most impactful performance as Pete Best, the group’s original drummer. He meets Epstein to discover that the guitarists are letting him go, and Best bursts out laughing thinking it’s a good joke. When he sees the pained expression on the manager’s face, Best’s expression changes to anger: “I’m the beat behind The Beatles!” There is a raw pathos here: a gay Liverpudlian Jew who has always relied on the kindness of others is now advocating the sort of penance he has luckily avoided. “Liverpool is a city that never forgets,” Epstein reminds himself, before marching on with his destiny.

The real life Epstein died at the heartbreakingly youthful age of 32. His premature death shook the band, particularly Lennon,who never found a fitting replacement for their needs, and invariably, The Beatles split in 1970. The band’s story has been depicted on several occasions, so it’s appropriate that Midas Man casts a light on the person in the shadows: their manager and most ardent supporter. Rock and roll!

Midas Man streams on Prime Video from Wednesday, October 30th.