The satirical music group the Capitol Steps released a song in 1995 called Rolling Kidney Stones,"" a medley of Rolling Stones parodies with titles like ""Get Off of My Lawn."" That was 13 years ago, and it remains a staple of their live show - which is constantly updated to reflect current events.
That's how long the Stones have been around: Songs making fun of how long they've been around have been around a while now.
""Shine a Light,"" Martin Scorsese's new Stones concert film, brings up their freakish longevity frequently. However, to the band's credit, this close look at their performance, filmed at New York's Beacon Theater in 2006, leaves the viewer thinking of them less as a band of 60-year-olds and more as just a band. It doesn't try to deny their age, but it transforms the subject away from a punch line into something more thoughtful.
When Mick Jagger does his patented ankle-breaking seizure dance the same way today as he did in 1962, it can easily be assumed to be some kind of obscene self-parody. Yet, Scorsese's swooping close-up camera reveals something quite different. Not once after a jerky head-bob on ""Shattered"" or a frenetic sprint during ""Start Me Up"" is there a self-deprecating laugh or ""I-can't-believe-I'm-still-here"" expression.
Ronnie Wood is a similarly jarring combination of youth and age. Keith Richards, on the other hand, seems the only band member who actually grows into his grizzled old swashbuckler skin (and away from his distant, pre-drugs origin as the band dork) as he gets older and older.
The most fascinating portrait Scorsese paints, though, is of the most unassuming Stone: drummer Charlie Watts. ""Shine a Light"" gives the audience a good sense of how this man can drum for the Rolling Stones for almost a half-century and still say he's not much into rock (he prefers jazz). He's the only one with white hair and the only one to look into the camera and admit exhaustion. In other words, he's the only one who isn't an iconoclast, willing to give his talents to the band without demanding an outsized persona in return.
Scorsese runs into some trouble, though, struggling to differentiate a Scorsese concert film from a John Q. Filmmaker one. His primary strategy is to insist ""Shine a Light"" is a documentary too, mostly by interweaving old interview footage into the performance. At least half of the clips involve the young Stones talking about their future: a 25-year-old Mick, on a talk show, saying he can imagine doing what he does now at age 60 and the audience laughing, for example. These unenlightening segments are good for little but snarky irony and get old quickly.
Scorsese also tries to generate some suspense with an awkward prologue when he, in front of the camera, worries about not knowing what songs the band will play. He also tacks on a confusing and disorienting coda at the end. These overly cinematic parts are obtrusive, but thankfully they disappear completely during the show.
""Shine a Light"" might not completely succeed as a film, but as a filmed concert it has plenty of great moments. The absolute highlight comes as Buddy Guy joins for a rendition of Muddy Waters' ""Champagne and Reefer."" Like Guy - an icon from an even earlier era - the Stones will undoubtedly continue. Perhaps ""Shine a Light"" is not particularly special, since it's hardly the first Stones concert film. Still, it's impressive to see that, in all likelihood, it won't be their last either.
