If Peter Jackson's ''The Beatles: Get Back'' was the supreme document of the Beatles' final moments together and of their dissolution, Morgan Neville's ''Man on the Run'' is a kind of sequel.
It begins in late 1969, just months after Savile Row rooftop concert. The Beatles have broken up. Paul McCartney has seemingly disappeared. There are even rumors that he's dead. On a remote farm in Scotland, a confused and distraught McCartney wonders whether he'll write ''another note, ever.''
But the most surprising thing about revisiting this tumultuous, tabloid-ready period of McCartney's life is a simple fact. When the Beatles broke up, McCartney was 27 years old. To say he had lived a lifetime by then would be an understatement. By just the sheer enormity of their production and colossal cultural impact, you might easily mistakenly put McCartney in middle age by then.
''Man on the Run,'' premiering Friday on Prime Video, is the story of everything that came after. McCartney, an executive producer, is never seen sitting for an interview, but his off-camera musings mark the movie, a chronicle of self renewal. For McCartney, kept boyish by the Beatles, the band's end meant a sudden coming of age.
''I had to look inside myself and find something that wasn't the Beatles,'' McCartney says in the film.
How you feel about McCartney's post-Beatles career might inform how you feel about ''Man on the Run.'' For Neville, the celebrated documentary filmmaker of ''Won't You Be My Neighbor,''''Piece by Piece'' and ''20 Feet From Stardom,'' it's a period that offers no neat narrative, but — quite unlike the mythic Beatles years — something more like the ups and down of life, with regrets and triumphs along the way.
It didn't get off to a good start. McCartney, blamed for the Beatles breakup, was guilt-ridden. His first records were a disappointment. Singing with Linda McCartney, his wife, wasn't greeted well. A 1973 TV special that included a rendition of ''Mary Had a Little Lamb'' was, to put it a mildly, a misjudgment. A curious feature of McCartney's largely sunny disposition is a nagging self-loathing.
''If I hear someone damning Paul McCartney, I tend to believe them,'' he says, referencing the Beatles split.