Sony is even marketing it unconventionally. Instead of the usual Twitter blitz, they distributed physical postcards with first-look images at the Liverpool Institute of Performing Arts, letting students discover them organically. It's charming, analog, very Beatles.

"There hasn't been an enterprise like this before, and you can't think about it in traditional releasing terms," a Sony executive said. Which is studio-speak for: we have no idea if this will work, but we're committed.

Here's the thing: ambitious music biopics have a mixed track record. For every Walk the Line, there's a Get On Up. For every Bohemian Rhapsody (love it or hate it), there are a dozen forgettable jukebox movies.

But the four-film structure could be Mendes' secret weapon. Each Beatle gets space to breathe. George Harrison doesn't have to be the quiet one in the corner—he gets his own movie. Ringo gets to be more than the drummer who showed up late. Even the Lennon-McCartney partnership, usually the center of Beatles narratives, becomes just part of the story.

Will audiences show up for four separate films about the same band? That's the billion-dollar question. But if Mendes pulls this off, it could redefine how we think about music biopics—and franchises in general.

In Hollywood, nobody knows anything—except me, occasionally. And my gut says this could be something special.