In 1973, Paul McCartney stood at a crossroads. His post-Beatles band, Wings, had released three albums to mixed reviews, and critics were brutal, questioning whether the once-golden songwriter was now toast. His answer was Band on the Run, recorded under circumstances so chaotic and dangerous they would have derailed most projects. The album became McCartneyâs finest post-Beatles work and a touchstone of the 1970s.
Hereâs something todayâs music fans may forgetâor never have known: Wings wasnât some sad consolation prize after the Beatles split. The band scored seven top 10 hits in the US, including âBand on the Run,â âListen to What the Man Said,â âSilly Love Songs,â and âWith a Little Luck.â This wasnât Paul desperately clinging to relevanceâthis was a legitimate commercial juggernaut that dominated 1970s radio. Wings sold millions of albums, filled stadiums, and proved that McCartney could build something successful from scratch. đž
But it wasnât all a bowl of cherries. Now comes Man on the Run, a documentary directed by Academy Award-winner Morgan Neville that revisits that pivotal Lagos moment. The film premiered at the Telluride Film Festival last August, and its public release comes next month on Amazon Prime Video. And if you care at all about how great music gets made under impossible circumstances, you need to watch. Because what happened in Nigeria in 1973 is one of the most dramatic stories in rock historyâand most people only know the sanitized version. This documentary shows you what actually went down, warts and all. đ
What Happened in Lagos (Everything That Could Go Wrong, Did)
The scene: McCartney decides to record Band on the Run in Lagos, Nigeriaâpartly for tax reasons (even megastars appreciate a good tax break), partly because he wanted to experience a different culture and musical environment. đ
Just before the sessions began, two members of Wings quit the bandâguitarist Henry McCullough and drummer Denny Seiwellâleaving McCartney with only his wife, Linda, and always-loyal guitarist Denny Laine to complete the album. Imagine planning to make a rock album with a full band and suddenly youâre down to three people, one of whom is your wife, whom critics say canât sing, and is only in the band because sheâs married to you. đ
It gets worse: Shortly after arriving in Lagos, Paul and Linda were mugged at knifepoint. The thieves made off with his cash and, most crucially, a bag containing his notebooks of lyrics and the demo tapes. So now Paulâs got to recreate everything from memory while also managing drums, bass, guitar, and keyboards. And singing.
Oh, and the studio equipment kept breaking down. Oh, and the heat was so oppressive that Paul literally sweated through his clothes during sessions. Oh, and legendary Nigerian musician Fela Kuti accused him of coming to Lagos to steal African music. Oh, and there was political strife in Nigeria at the time. đĄïž Most artists would have said âscrew thisâ and gone home. Instead, Paul made a masterpiece: Band on the Run topped charts worldwide, won a Grammy, and forced critics whoâd written him off to eat crow. Sometimes the best revenge is a triple-platinum album that people are still talking about 50 years later. đ
Why You Should Watch
Hereâs what makes Man on the Run different from other McCartney documentaries: it focuses on the exact moment when everything was falling apart and Paul had to prove he could still do it without the Beatles safety net. This isnât a greatest hits compilation or a victory lap. This is watching an artist in crisis mode, figuring out how to rescue an album that seemed doomed.
The documentary features previously unseen footage from the Lagos sessions, much of it shot by Linda. This isnât polished promotional material, itâs raw footage of Paul working out arrangements, battling equipment failures, dealing with the heat, and occasionally looking like heâs questioning every life choice that led him to this sweltering Nigerian studio. You see him exhausted. You see him frustrated. You see him refusing to quit. đč As Paul says in the film:
It forced me to rely on my own instincts. Every part you hear on that album, except for Dennyâs guitar work, is me or Linda. That was terrifying but also liberating.â
Thatâs not the usual McCartney spinâthatâs genuine vulnerability from a guy whoâs had 50 years to process what happened. đĄ
Laine, the guitarist who stuck with Paul through the Lagos nightmare, provides his own perspective:
âPaul was under tremendous pressure. Heâd play bass, then overdub drums, then do piano parts, then guitars. He was essentially making a band album as a one-man show. Iâd never seen anyone work that hard.â
But hereâs the revelation that makes this documentary essential: Linda McCartneyâs contributions to Band on the Run were far more significant than anyone acknowledged. For years, critics dismissed Linda as dead weight, claiming she only had a music career because she married a Beatle. The documentary shows footage of Linda not just playing keyboards and singing backing vocals, but actively contributing ideas during the creative process. We see Paul struggling with the vocal arrangement for âBand on the Run,â and Linda suggests a different approach, demonstrating a vocal line that Paul builds upon. The finished version includes both their voices, blended so seamlessly itâs hard to tell whoâs singing what. As Paul says:
âThat was Lindaâs genius. She didnât have formal training, but she had incredible instincts. Sheâd suggest things Iâd never have thought of because she came at music from a completely different angle.â
How This Fits Into the Bigger Picture
Paulâs been documenting his career for decades, and each project serves a different purpose. Wingspan (2001) tried to rehabilitate Wingsâ reputation by covering the bandâs entire history. The Love We Make (2011) followed Paul organizing the Concert for New York City after 9/11. McCartney 3, 2, 1 (2021) with Rick Rubin was a masterclass in songwriting, with Paul explaining how he constructs songs. đŹ
What makes Man on the Run different is its dramatic focus on crisis. That narrative drive makes it more compelling than the usual documentary hagiography. Youâre not just learning factsâyouâre watching a story unfold where the outcome wasnât predetermined. đŻ
And thatâs crucial, because in 1973, people genuinely questioned whether McCartney still had it. Wingsâ previous albums had some nice songs, but hadnât set the world on fire. Critics were brutal. John Lennon was taking shots at him. The pressure to deliver something great wasnât just professional ambitionâit was survival.
The Fela Kuti Controversy (The Part McCartney Doesnât Fully Address)
The documentary includes footage of Fela Kuti, the legendary Nigerian musician and activist, accusing McCartney of coming to Lagos to appropriate African music without proper credit or compensation. Itâs an awkward moment, and to be honest, McCartneyâs response in the documentary is pretty defensive: âWe werenât trying to steal anything. We were just trying to make our record. I was a fan of African music, but I was writing pop songs, not trying to copy anyone.â
The film doesnât dig too deeply into this controversy, which is a missed opportunity. Because thereâs a legitimate question here about wealthy British rock stars treating African music as raw material for experimentation in the 1970s. Paul Simon would face similar criticisms years later with Graceland. The colonial dynamics of showing up in Nigeria, using local resources, then leaving with an album that makes you millions while local musicians get nothingâthatâs complicated stuff that deserves more than the brief acknowledgment it gets.
The Book Connection (When 90 Minutes Isnât Enough)
Man on the Run shares its title with a companion book, but the film follows the book by over a decade. The volume Man on the Run: Paul McCartney in the 1970s was written by music journalist Tom Doyle and originally published in 2013. The book goes deep into the sessionsâcomplete session logs, details about which takes were used for which parts, technical information about recording techniques. If youâre the kind of person who wants to know exactly how McCartney got that bass sound on âJet,â the book delivers. đ
The book and documentary work togetherâthe documentary gives you the visceral experience, the book gives you the forensic detail. đ
Why You Should Actually Watch This Thing
For newer fans who only know McCartney as the âcute Beatleâ or the guy who wrote âSilly Love Songsâ, this documentary shows you the artist who survived the breakup of the biggest band in history and built something new from scratch. For longtime fans who already know the Lagos story, the previously unseen footage and Lindaâs contributions make this essential viewing.
And for anyone who cares about how great art gets made, Man on the Run is a reminder that creative breakthroughs usually happen when someone works their ass off under impossible circumstances, not sitting around waiting for inspiration. Great work doesnât flow effortlessly from magical people, sometimes it involves playing the same bass line 47 times in a sweltering studio until itâs good enough. đž
Epilogue: Watch It For the Archival Footage, Stay For the Story
Near the documentaryâs end, an elderly McCartney sits at a piano and plays through Band on the Run, singing softly to himself. The camera holds on his faceâlined now, but still animated by the same love of melody that drove him in 1973. âEvery time I play these songs,â he says, âIâm back in Lagos, feeling the heat, dealing with the problems, but also feeling that excitement when you know youâre creating something special. That feeling never gets old.â đč
If thereâs one thing Man on the Run makes abundantly clear, itâs that Paul McCartney didnât coast on his Beatles laurelsâhe could have retired wealthy, but he fought like hell to prove he could still do it. And watching that fight, seeing the sweat and frustration and determination, is absolutely riveting. The album is a masterpiece. The story of how it got made is even better. đ











