Today is one of those ‘Where were you?’ days for anyone over 50 years of age.
The memory of the death of John Lennon on December 8, 1980 places the event firmly in shrinking boomer territory, but even for those born long afterwards, the senseless tragedy of his death carries a reminder of the fragility and randomness of life as well as the price of fame.
The events leading up to David Chapman’s murder of the former Beatle just as he was coming out of the cocoon of family life with new music and energy have been reiterated, picked over and endlessly discussed for the past 43 years.
The man standing in the shadows with a copy of JD Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye, Chapman’s request for an autograph, four shots into Lennon’s back as he entered the doorway of the Dakota building, eyewitness accounts, the police investigation, the CIA conspiracy theories — they’ve all been unearthed and re-presented ad nauseam.
So, is there anything new to add to this story that has taken on the status of a modern Shakespearean or Greek tragedy?
Well, apparently, yes, there is.
A new three-part documentary series has just arrived on Apple TV+, which takes a deep dive into that fateful night in New York.
It features eyewitness accounts, unheard interviews with Chapman at various stages of his time behind bars, and statements from all the main players: Sean and Julian Lennon, the surviving Beatles and friends. The hype promises new insights and details but never really delivers.
A detective who worked on the case admits for the first time in public that he has never read Catcher in the Rye. Really? Incredible.
Lennon’s last words were apparently: “I’m shot”. Hardly sensational. I couldn’t think of a more banal final statement from a man known for his lyrical dexterity.
It’s a well-made documentary, and, at times, it is moving, with sad reflections and contemporary footage of the worldwide reactions to the horror of the night.
But quite why it was ever made is not clear. Nothing new is revealed; we are given glimpses into the deranged reasonings of Chapman, but the series serves no purpose other than to remind us of the deep loss people have felt for more than four decades and, of course, the irrational and deadly results of America’s gun laws.
It also prompts a few ‘what if?’ questions.
What if Lennon had survived and lived to create more music, and what would it have been like? His final album, Double Fantasy, released just weeks before his death, drew lukewarm reviews until his murder created a wave of nostalgic sentiment and sent it to the top of the charts. His mastery of melody and lyricism was still evident — but nothing was boundary-pushing in his music.
He had nothing to say about the rise of punk or Springsteen, or the contemporary scene of the ’70s and the arrival of digital recording.
What would his reactions have been to the fall of Soviet communism, the rise of the internet, the death of Diana, the invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan, the refugee crisis and the continuing wars in Ukraine and the Middle East?
During his life, he was an outspoken and acerbic commentator — saying things that amused, confused and infuriated people. His statement that The Beatles were more famous than Christ in 1966 in America has been revealed as one of the sparks that fuelled his assassin’s anger. That’s what happens when you live and speak in the lounge rooms of people all over the world for 20 years.
Apart from his music, Lennon, the public commentator, would have been a funny, challenging and interesting fellow to have around for the past 40 years. I have missed his artistic and intellectual presence, and so have many others, I suspect.
In the end, the documentary John Lennon: Murder Without a Trial shows that Lennon’s legacy is sadly as much about his tragic death as the wonder of his life.