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Shine A Light Review (Part 1)

by Chris Flippo
04/06/2008

Okay, full disclosure: I have not actually seen Shine A Light, the new Rolling Stones concert film by Martin Scorsese. However, it wasn’t for a lack of trying. I drove to the Mall of Georgia, bought my ticket, and fought my way through a hundred or so of the most passionate Stones fans.

After a minute or two of that weird IMAX voiceover explaining the process (in a very creepy, HAL-9000 type of monotone), the lights came up and the theater’s managers came out and explained what was wrong in terms only Geek Squad sergeants could understand. To put it simply, there was no battery to power the IMAX projectors.

The audience, young and old, became vehement. It took a Rent-A-Cop and two free passes to calm everyone down. Every member of the audience served up a very unique combination of swear words, as vulgar as they were inventive. I felt bad for the poor managers, who were getting the blame even though the fault was not theirs.

You see, Dear Reader, the fault was my own. I am afraid I have become cursed. It was only yesterday when I tried to see Martin McDonagh’s In Bruges when the film stopped during the climatic shoot-out (oh, if anyone knows if Colin Ferrell dies or not, please remind me to avoid you for the next week or so). How can two films in two days at two different movie theaters break down? I don’t know, but I promise I have been on my best behavior lately, both personally and professionally, and can not honestly explain why I am being subjected to this especially severe case of Cinematic Voodoo.

However, I’m getting off the subject. You came here for a Stones review, right? Well, sorry to disappoint, but I may not be able to provide it, at least not this week. However, I felt like what I experienced was nevertheless a genuine Stones experience.

The breakdown of the film allowed me to shift my concentration away from the screen and toward the audience itself. Decked out in vintage Rolling Stones T-shirts, these were Stones fans back before they made their second comeback. These were folks who didn’t just catch the show at the matinee. No, they traveled a distance to be here, to see their favorite band on one obscenely big movie screen. These were real fans. The rest of us are just pretending. If singing and dancing had broken out during the film, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

They say a Rolling Stone gathers no moss. Yes, that may be true, but the fans have been tumbling along right beside them, and, from the look of it, they haven’t gathered any of the green stuff either. They are as impassioned and youthful in person as Mick and Co. are on stage. These aren’t Bob Dylan fans, yelling at little kids to get off their yard. These are Stones fans. All they want is a good tune, a rock and roll girlfriend, and to remember a time when “Ruby Tuesday” meant more than a bar and grill.

Well, if you made it this far and are still on the fence about seeing the film, then you sure as hell don’t belong to this group. However, I would in no way discourage you from seeing the film, and next week I’ll return with a more traditional review of Shine A Light. Until then, here is a little food for thought: there were also plenty of young people in the audience, genuinely excited about the film but also genuinely disappointed when it didn’t happen. Now, I’ve often complained about guys my age who are too wrapped up in another generation’s music. How can they not feel like intruders, listening to music that is dealing with subjects that were around twenty or thirty years before their parents were even together?

But the experience has made me realize something: reverence toward your parents’ (or even your grandparents’) music is not a bad thing. Its when you don’t look toward the future that things get murky. You see, that’s what is so great about the Stones. Yes, they originally wrote the music thirty or forty years ago, but they always sing it for the present. The music is universal in ways all the best music is, and when you hear it, you always feel like it was meant for you. When they sing, you don’t think of how far the Stones have come; you only think of how far these crazy old men still may go. Now that’s as rock and roll as it gets.

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