Saddened by the recent passings of Rolling Stones drummer Charlie Watts and hilarious comedian Norm Macdonald.

Gimme Shelter

Providing glimpses into The Rolling Stones's tragic concert held at the Altamont Speedway in 1969, Gimme Shelter follows the band as they tour the United States beforehand and accept the fate of their beaten-to-death fan afterwards. Insights into the logistics of preparing for the show and the problems associated with corresponding security arrangements are offered as well.

The footage of The Stones performing classics like Jumpin' Jack Flash, (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction, and Street Fighting Fan rocks, directors Albert Maysles, David Maysles, and Charlotte Zwerin fluidly capturing their electrifying and intensifying rhythms. Tina Turner and Jefferson Airplane also receive screen time and there's a brief scene showcasing members of The Grateful Dead as they discover that JA's lead male singer Marty Balin has been assaulted by security. The Stones have to stop playing Sympathy for the Devil as the crowd and the Hell's Angels clash and shortly thereafter one of their fans passes on.

The Stones are shown silently watching related video footage and listening to comments regarding their fan's death within. It must have been a shocking experience and the affects of said shock seem to be reflected by Jagger's sombre countenance. Tough to predict what will happen when organizing massive entertainments. Tougher to know how you'll react to the outcomes even if you've convinced yourself that you're prepared for the worst case. The film's more of a presentation of a cross-section of the facts than a reflection upon them.

Sympathy for the Devil

Showcasing The Rolling Stones (1968) as they record different versions of "Sympathy for the Devil," Jean-Luc Godard's Sympathy for the Devil tamely presents the to-be-legendary band while interspersing footage of the Black Panthers, a verdant interview, and an idealistic book shop. Political verse read from different texts is interjected throughout as graffiti artists championing the left take to the streets. Rich with ambiguous irony and multidimensional interpretive layers, Godard phantasmagorically makes several points which, as far as I can tell, seek to establish, amongst other things, a Marxist film industry in the West and a legion of intellectuals who pursue their activity by abandoning traditional paradigms, creating new compelling forms to provocatively distribute their countercultural content, i.e., The Rolling Stones's "Sympathy for the Devil," communism being demonic in Western eyes precisely because it attempts to politicize the teachings of Jesus Christ while giving birth to monsters like Stalin. Are artists using the internet to create a politico-economic infrastructure that can effectively sustain Marxism in order to promote a more peaceful egalitarian culture that doesn't pervert its altruistic ideals while specific outlets continue to foster a divisive mainstream capitalist agenda? In Sympathy for the Devil, Godard sets up culture and art in opposition so the aforementioned could lead to a material synthesis of some kind (a Dharma Punx video game?). The verdant interview depicts a woman named Eve Democracy (Anne Wiazemsky) being asked wide ranging questions in a forest to which she only answers "yes" or "no," which, according to my interpretation, states that 1960s women were politically situated within a wild uncultivated box that limited their productivity to monosyllabic replies which men preferred and ignored because they possessed no elaboration but still provided the illusion of a voice. The Black Panthers make sharp points concerning language and communication etc., notably in regards to semantics and the ways in which different groups can speak the same language and have no idea what the other is trying to say. A lot more could have been illustrated in the film if The Rolling Stones weren't consistently brought back to the forefront, although, since they're one of my favourite bands and their consistent return represents form working hand in hand with content, it's not such a bad thing. Whether or not they forged and continue to forge a countercultural realm in line with Godard's vision could be the anti-intellectual subject of a poetic montage worked into the chorus of a new podcast.

Shine a Light

In 1993 I purchased a ticket to see the Rolling Stones' Voodoo Lounge tour. I thought it best to spend the little money I had on the ticket in order to ensure that I had the chance of seeing them live before one of them died.

Shit was I wrong.

But I did get to see a solid performance from my favourite band and was able to see them again in 1996. In the meantime, I've seen most of Martin Scorsese's films and taken note of the ways in which he usually incorporates my favourite forgotten Stones tunes into his soundtracks, Let it Loose in The Departed for instance. Needless to say, I was pretty frickin' happy to discover that his latest film is a concert from the Stones' A Bigger Bang tour and that this concert can be viewed in IMAX form.

Critics are referring to Scorsese as being 'lame' for having shot this film. And I really don't think they understand what he's done. Throughout, we are shown a concert in New York's Beacon theatre, with the opening act briefly pointing out some of the problems associated with trying to organize the shot. Scorcese brazenly situates himself in the forefront by inserting the words "Martin Scorsese Presents" immediately after the Stones count down to begin rehearsing: 4, 3, 2, 1, Martin Scorsese!

And why the hell shouldn't he? He's a huge fan, he has the resources to bring a concert to a huge audience who likely didn't have a chance to see the Stones last time round, tickets being rather pricey these days, and he wants to ironically share in their mythos for a split-second. Like Ricky Gervais in Extras, he's delighting in the fact that he is able to meet and greet some of his favourite stars while humbly making himself look silly in the process. And in a salute to humility, one of the most prominent features of Shine a Light is the footage of Stones drummer, Charlie Watts. Charlie has been there since the beginning and he rarely gets to emerge from Mick and Kieth's shadow. But Scorsese makes sure that Charlie gets plenty of screen-time in order to pay tribute to the Stones' unsung backbone.

The majority of the film consists of the aforementioned concert, but interviews from the 60s and 70s are intercut throughout (the Stones in Germany, Japan, France). A lot of this footage shows the Stones answering questions regarding how long they think they'll be able to tour, create, survive. By mixing these interviews in, Scorsese presents an objective answer while the Stones's performance illustrates that the same youthful intensity that gave them their start 40+ years ago is alive and well. As if God had sympathy for a bunch of devils and shone a light upon them, making every song they sing their favourite tune. Within the subnarrative lies the youthful intensity Scorsese has garnered from the Stones' music and his extreme delight in having situated himself within their legend. Note how in the end we see him directing the Stones offstage at two different points (while their progress is linear), thereby accentuating his longing to be a part of their aura by doubling his presence within their theatrical exit (extending his presence within for as long as possible).

For the Stones themselves, it's astounding how well they continue to play. Kieth playing on intuition, Mick stretching the strut, Charlie plugging away, Ronnie dexterously exchanging licks, Chuck Leavell rocking the keys, Darryl Jones pumping the bass, and Bobby Keys sucking back that sax like it's a quarter past Sunday. They blast out a bunch of background classics like All the Down the Line, Lovin' Cup (with Jack White), Live with Me (with Christina Aguilera), Some Girls, and You've Got the Silver (sung by Keith Richards), while performing a number of favourites like Satisfaction, Start Me Up, Shattered, and Jumpin' Jack Flash.

If you're a fan of the band, and it’s playing in a theatre near you, check out Shine a Light for the ways in which it pays tribute to a solid rock 'n' roll act flickin' the switch on their 19th nervous breakdown. And the next time the Stones are in town I'll have to spend what little money I have (looking for work here . . .) on a ticket, even though I'm sure there will be plenty more opportunity to see them. Because they're clones.

They probably aren't clones.

Whatever, they could be clones.