There is nothing so awkward as a musical biopic about artists so popular that the makers of said film cannot actually afford the rights to their music. It is a problem that has plagued films about David Bowie, Jimi Hendrix, and repeatedly the Beatles, and I guarantee it is the reason audiences have yet to see a narrative feature about the Rolling Stones. It affects Midas Man throughout, and perhaps unfairly: this new drama does not even focus on the Beatles, but rather their hugely talented manager Brian Epstein. It is a story worth telling, with enormous potential, but it is unavoidably difficult to express Epstein’s enthusiasm for his clients’ song writing talent when all we see and hear are their cover versions.

It proves difficult for the film, which is directed by Joe A. Stephenson, to ably manoeuvre around the Beatles. They are simply too iconic to avoid. When the film strays too far from Epstein’s management of them it feels as if important information is being left out of the picture. When it focuses on their meteoric rise it risks making Epstein a supporting player in his own story. There is rich and provocative material available for Stephenson to mine – particularly how the homosexual Epstein and the notoriously homophobic John Lennon formed such a close and intimate friendship. Epstein was the best man at Lennon’s wedding to Cynthia Powell. He was godfather to Lennon’s eldest son Julian. You will learn of neither event here: the focus of Midas Man is driven by hitting already-famous beats of the Beatles saga.

They say one should always review the film that exists, and not the film that wasn’t made, and it is important to note that the extant Midas Man showcases a lot of strong performances and a genuinely amiable sense of energy and pace. Jacob Fortune-Lloyd is superb in the lead role, managing a clever blend of showy bravado and crippling self-doubt. Brigit Grant and Jonathan Wakeham’s screenplay boldly has Epstein narrate his own story via direct address. While the technique takes a while to gel it becomes stronger the more abstract Stephenson’s direction makes it. There is an impressive supporting cast as well, including the likes of Emily Watson, Eddie Marsan, and Eddie Suzy Izzard. One particular highlight is Darci Shaw as pop singer Cilla Black, not only replicating the real-life Black with stunning accuracy but shaping a fully rounded character via a limited number of scenes.

The film is less successful at replicating the Fab Four. Their George Harrison (Leo Harvey Elledge) is uncanny. Their John Lennon (Jonah Lees) performs well but visually verges on parody. Campbell Wallace, as Ringo Starr, fails to resemble the drummer at all. It is an unwinnable battle for casting directors, of course. The Beatles are simply so heavily ingrained into pop culture that audiences recognise every voice, glance, and mannerism. All four actors – including Blake Richardson as Paul McCartney – do commendable work with a near-impossible task.

The energy of Midas Man makes it enjoyable, and the screenplay’s treatment of Epstein’s life makes it frustrating. It is hard not to notice that, even with a focus on management over music, Epstein’s story is related in a manner common to most musical biopics: the early success, the inner torment, the struggles with drug addiction, the recovery, and the renewed success form a structure employed in every similar picture whether about Ray Charles, Johnny Cash, Aretha Franklin, or Freddie Mercury. In most cases it involves warping the historical facts to fit a narrative mould. Sometimes the changes are minor, some times – as with Mercury – they are catastrophic. For Brian Epstein it feels somewhere in the middle.

Midas Man is a breeze to watch, with bright performances and an audience friendly running time. The less you know about Brian Epstein, the more you are likely to enjoy it. Ultimately the only criticism to be levelled is that it is only that. The same cast and material, treated with a stronger and more ambitious hand, could have been fantastic.