No guitar player in rock history has amassed a larger arsenal of instantly recognizable guitar licks than Keith Richards. “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction,” “Jumpin’ Jack Flash,” “Start Me Up,” “Brown Sugar”—every one identifiable in five notes or less. And yet I somehow spent much of Shine a Light, the Rolling Stones’ latest concert film, asking myself “Wait—what song is this?” Each riff sounds faintly distorted and off-tempo, almost hoarse, as if decades of bodily punishment and abuse had somehow been absorbed by the instrument’s strings. You could chalk it up to senescence if not for the awe-inspiring spectacle of Mick Jagger performing his standard plucked-chicken gyrations just a few feet across the stage, looking 10 times more fit at 65 than chunky guest performer Jack White does at 32. More likely, it’s just plain boredom—the faintly exhausted sound of a once-great band surviving on creative autopilot and uncanny stamina.
For a little while, it appears as if director-for-hire Martin Scorsese may have found a way around this dilemma. Shine a Light kicks off in high-energy vérité mode, shifting locations more frantically than any Bond or Bourne adventure and capturing quick, jagged impressions of the endless negotiations and logistical hassles involved in preparing to shoot a Stones concert. Few “scenes” run longer than 15 or 30 seconds; the sense of organized chaos is overwhelming. Jagger has grave doubts about the set that’s been designed for the Beacon Theatre, a small New York club chosen in the hope of offering movie audiences more intimacy. Scorsese has no idea where to put the cameras, because the band still hasn’t come up with a definite set list. Flesh-pressing photo-ops abound, with drummer Charlie Watts providing far and away the best fake smile. This material is so electrifying—and so uniquely cinematic—that even a first-rate performance by the Stones couldn’t possibly rival its energy, save for those people actually at the Beacon.
Shine a Light delivers roughly half of a first-rate performance. As noted above, the greatest-hits selections, concentrated mostly at the beginning and end of the film, tend to fall flat, often to the point where they make the Stones come across as a fairly mediocre Stones cover band. And various special-guest appearances amount to little more than stunts—Christina Aguilera attempting to growl her way along with Jagger on “Live With Me” has the same desperate odor as Jerry Seinfeld’s blatantly promotional turn on 30 Rock a while back. But the band perks up considerably when tackling less well-worn material, such as the country-tinged “Faraway Eyes” (from 1978’s Some Girls) and a cover of the Muddy Waters tune “Champagne & Reefer.” Ronnie Wood plays the hell out of “You Got the Silver” on steel guitar, more than compensating for Richards’ tuneless singing. At moments like these, the Stones genuinely seem like a band and not just a traveling Smithsonian exhibit.
Still, it’s hard to argue that the world really needed another Stones concert flick at this late date, even one directed by Scorsese. That’s especially true given the ragged dynamism of those first 10 minutes or so, before the show even begins. Gene Siskel famously used to ask whether a given film was more interesting than a hypothetical documentary showing the same actors having lunch. Shine a Light, while moderately entertaining, fails that test. If there’s enough leftover footage to assemble a full-length doc about what it took to make Shine a Light—one that focuses on what’s happening offstage—that’s the movie I really want to see.
Shine a Light
***
Directed by Martin Scorsese
Rated PG-13