In 1960, a 17-year-old girl named Freda Kelly snagged her dream job: secretary for her favorite band’s fan club. The Beatles were an up-and-coming group in her hometown of Liverpool.
She would stay on the payroll for the band’s decade-long life span, a stretch of time in which she would become family-close with the musicians and their relatives, and watch them turn into the most famous band in the world — then self-destruct.
The sweet-faced Kelly is a lovely and humble storyteller, and her enduring affection for John, Paul, George and “Richie” is palpable. She was a stern protector of their reputations, and an equally loyal liaison to the fans (she once fired an employee for mailing someone a lock of hair falsely labeled as Paul’s).
As much as it will delight Beatles fans, Ryan White’s “Good Ol’ Freda” is also a touching ode to integrity. Kelly has been quietly sitting on these insider stories — as well as dusty, attic-based boxes of insanely valuable Beatles memorabilia — for decades. Still employed as a secretary today, she has no interest in getting rich, and seems to be making this movie mostly just to show her young grandson one day.
Asked about any sexual shenanigans with the Fab Four, she demurs: “That’s personal!” In today’s tell-all world, Kelly’s cheerful refusal is actually radical.