A Hard Day’s Night is not only a gay, spontaneous, inventive comedy but it is also as good cinema as I have seen for a long time. The Beatles themselves are partly responsible: they have somehow managed to retain their naturalness and individuality—one might even venture that much-abused word, charm—in the teeth of commercial success and teen-age adulation, perhaps because they really seem to enjoy their celebrity...

A Hard Day’s Night sometimes reminds one of silent slapstick (the beautiful long shot, from high up, of the Beatles capering around a field, crossing and crisscrossing at top speed with perfect timing) and sometimes of the Marx brothers (the “clean old man” bit, Ringo’s adventures as he strolls about town). There have been many efforts to recapture the spirit of those old comedies, but Mr. Lester’s is the first I’ve seen that gets beyond self-conscious pastiche... The grand finale, when the Beatles put on their show, is unexpectedly moving and exhilarating because Mr. Lester manages to show the rapport the Beatles seem to have with their screaming fanatics, who are not so very much younger than they are, after all.