STUDIO: Paramount Vantage
RELEASE DATE: April 4, 2008
STARRING: The Rolling Stones, Christina Aguilera, Buddy Guy, Jack White, and Martin Scorsese
DIRECTED BY: Martin Scorsese
GENRE: Concert Film
RATING: PG-13

The Rolling Stones and Martin Scorsese are two of the most revered pillars of pop culture. Scorsese has used the Stones’ music to great effect in some of his most memorable scenes, but Shine a Light marks the long-awaited artistic collaboration between the two. Filmed over two nights in 2006 at New York City’s Beacon Theatre, Scorsese tries his damnedest to capture the energy of the modern day Stones with Shine a Light. And he does. Considering their age, the Stones are still able to whip up an impressive cloud of dust, both physically and sonically. Unfortunately, what Scorsese wasn’t able to put to celluloid was the sense of danger that made the Stones the legends they’ve become, leaving Shine a Light as just a concert film instead of a film on the level of the music masterpieces (The Last Waltz, No Direction Home: Bob Dylan) that Marty has made in the past.

Make no mistake: the band can still play its ass off. The show opens with a blistering history lesson, yanking the crowd through the 60’s, 70’s and 80’s with the threesome "Jumpin' Jack Flash," "Shattered" and "She Was Hot." Charlie Watts’ tempos are taut and unwavering, Keith Richards’ riffs are loose and slippery and Ron Wood’s rhythm guitar strikes just the right balance between the two. Meanwhile, Mick Jagger whirls about the stage tirelessly, spitting out note after note, but punctuating all the important words. And Scorsese, commanding an army of Oscar-winning cinematographers, catches most of the action with countless cuts between cameras that never seem to stop moving.

But not long after that opening salvo, things start to get blurry. The band digs fairly deep into its catalog, but comes up with a surprisingly same-sounding set, leaning heavily on the glitzy, hard rockers that bar bands so frequently cop. And though the playing on songs like "All Down the Line," "Connection" and "Little T & A" is consistently strong, somewhere amidst a few wanky solos, Vegas horns and back-up vocalists, the Stones start to lose the plot. It seems like the wrong choice to choose four of the twenty or so songs from 1978’s Some Girls. Perhaps this was a conscious effort on the band’s part to situate themselves somewhere in the middle of their career, no longer the bad boys and hit-makers of London counterculture but not yet elder statesmen who can be expected to play only the greatest hits.

During the film, a few guest stars are trotted out to share the stage: Blues flag-barer Buddy Guy, White Stripe Jack White and pop caterwauler Christina Aguilera (whom Richards doesn’t quite seem to recognize, by the way). They’re all clearly overjoyed to be taking part; White is rowdy on "Loving Cup" and Aguilera struts confidently through "Live with Me." But only Guy, who duets on "Champagne & Reefer," truly elevates the material to something greater - tearing the song in two and connecting for a moment with the Stones’ ability to be musically earnest, yet morally careless at the same time. In fact, after Guy’s stint onstage, it looks as though Richards gives him the guitar he has just finished playing, as if to say, "This belongs with you."

There are two other welcome respites in the set list: Ronnie mans the pedal steel on the moving and rarely-performed "As Tears Go By," while later, Richards takes hold of the mic for a lovely rendition of "You Got the Silver." But those moments nearly get lost in the shuffle and by the time Jagger re-takes the stage for "Sympathy for the Devil," entering from behind the audience, through a crimson-backlit door (a move that feels calculated for the big screen), I was already squirming in my seat. Granted, when you’re paying a few hundred dollars to see a band, you’re probably gonna demand a lengthy show. But taking in twenty songs from the seat of a movie theater can be a bit much. At just over two hours, there are points where the crowd visibly loses steam and even Jagger seems to run out of moves (temporarily, of course). The requisite finale of "Brown Sugar" and "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" follow shortly thereafter, but it comes too late.

Ultimately, Shine a Light pales when compared to Gimme Shelter, the brilliant 1970 film that laid bare the Stones in their heyday, as they headlined the Altamont Festival, at which a fan was stabbed to death during their set by a biker hired to work security. That’s not to say Scorsese would’ve fared better with that sort of tragedy and chaos on his hands but it’s tough not to draw comparisons. At a 2006 Stones show, the Hell’s Angels in the front row have been swapped out for strategically-placed, camera-ready hotties and Richards has ditched the smack in his pocket for a Pirates of the Caribbean pin on his lapel (no joke). The sense of rock 'n' roll danger that the band once inspired is missing. Of course, it’s not the Rolling Stones’ fault. They’re old, wealthy and comfortable, as are most of the folks who managed to score tickets to these shows. And the show and film can’t help but reflect some of that. And I don’t mean to sound as though I’m suggesting they quit playing shows. As I said, they’ve still got the chops. The Stones can still outplay most of the bands out there today. But that danger, now absent, has long been the reason they’ve always managed to give the Beatles a run for their money, any time folks have debated "rock n’ roll’s greatest band." It’s just that in 2008, not even the big screen treatment, carried out by one of our finest directors and some of cinema’s most talented artists and technicians, can conjure something that’s no longer there.