22nd
Phil Bacharach Review: Shine a Light
(Oklahoma Gazette, April 9, 2008) Martin Scorsese knows about putting rock ’n’ roll on celluloid. As an assistant director on 1970’s “Woodstock,” he had a pivotal role in the standard-bearer of concert films. In 1978’s “The Last Waltz,” Scorsese captured the bittersweet magic of The Band’s final show. More recently, he has cranked out solid documentaries on Bob Dylan and the blues.
It was inevitable, then, that arguably America’s greatest living filmmaker would turn his sights to arguably the world’s greatest rock ’n’ roll band, the Rolling Stones. As a profile of the bad-boy oldsters, Scorsese’s “Shine a Light” doesn’t offer much insight, but it compensates with a powerhouse performance that gets the ya-ya’s out in a big way.
Scorsese wisely chose not to shoot the Stones in an arena setting, opting instead for two nights in the fall of 2006 at New York’s 2,700-seat Beacon Theater. The smaller venue lends the show a more intimate feel. He blanketed the Beacon with what appears to be scores of cameras, ensuring that no guitar riff or revealing gesture goes unnoticed. For that, cinematographer Robert Richardson (“The Aviator”) assembled a “who’s who” of colleagues for camera-handling duties, including Andrew Lesnie (“The Lord of the Rings” trilogy), Robert Elswit (“There Will Be Blood”), Emmanuel Lubezki (“Children of Men”) and John Toll (“Almost Famous”).
The film’s opening moments, in which Scorsese does some transatlantic pleading with the band for a peek at the show’s set list, feel a bit contrived. Still, it isn’t long before Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Ron Wood and Charlie Watts take the stage and launch into the blistering chords of “Jumpin’ Jack Flash.”
From then on, it’s all about the concert, and it happens to be a gas, gas, gas. Jagger, who was 63 at the time, remains an astonishing — and astonishingly limber — front man. His craggy mug and skeletal frame give away his age, but the guy remains the consummate showman, strutting and swaying like a demonically possessed gamecock. His stage presence is contrasted by Richards, ashen-faced and trussed up like the real-life Jack Sparrow he is. In a scorching take on “Sympathy for the Devil,” Richards smiles with otherworldly blissfulness.
The flick is awash in rock ’n’ roll euphoria, with the Stones roaring through such favorites as “Tumbling Dice,” “Shattered,” “All Down the Line,” “Just My Imagination” and a sanitized version of “Some Girls.” A few guests turn up, too. Jack White joins the band for “Loving Cup,” while Christina Aguilera injects a blast of sexiness into a duet with Jagger on “Live with Me.” Best of all is blues guitarist Buddy Guy lending his inimitable guitar chops and vocal skills for Muddy Waters’ “Champagne and Reefer.”
Scorsese intersperses the tunes with archival news clips of the baby-faced Stones being interviewed by the likes of Dick Cavett and the BBC. The footage is a hoot. More of it would have been great, but “Shine a Light” has no real interest in summarizing a career that has spanned nearly five decades. Scorsese and the Stones just want to rock, and that’s satisfaction enough.