Rolling Stones - Crossfire Hurricane

Last night I took myself off to a local cinema to see a live broadcast from Leicester Square Odeon of the premier of this film to celebrate 50 years of The Rolling Stones. The first hour was extremely tedious as we were treated to a series of people parading up and down the red carpet, posing, pouting, squeezing hands, signing autographs and generally soaking up the adulation from the crowd lined up behind the rope barrier. That crowd may have known who some of those people were, or like me, they may not. Frankly I couldn't have cared less! Thankfully after an hour it ended and so to the main event - the film itself.

I have to say that director Brett Morgen has done a fine job of piecing together the story of this band from early beginnings emulating their black American blues heroes, to the strutting, posing arena filling machine it ultimately became. Bill Wyman told how he witnessed 'waterfalls of urine' cascading towards the stage as screaming teenage girls wet themselves in their excitement. Conversely Mick Jagger explained that on the continent (Europe) the audience in the early days were largely male, who came not just to see the band, but also to riot against authority in the guise of the police. They left behind a trail of destroyed theatres. For a period of two years, the band rarely finished a concert before they were mobbed on stage, the plugs were pulled and the band members made a hasty exit. As Charlie Watts dryly explained, he hated being chased by hoards of screaming girls!

To be honest, the film included nothing that we did not already know. The band's history has already been well documented elsewhere. Where the film succeeded was in the film clips used, most of which I had not seen before, and the way that they were edited together to give a feeling for the frenzy that took place whenever The Stones were in town. There was a certain poignancy as we witnessed the end of Brian Jones's tenure within the band and shortly thereafter, the end of Brian himself. Also the infamous December 1969 Altamont concert was covered well. No punches were pulled as we witnessed the graphic scenes of violence leading to the death of Meredith Hunter at the hands of the San Francisco Hell's Angels. The band were visibly shocked by what they witnessed just yards away from the stage.

The drug fuelled early 70s followed with Mick Taylor becoming a victim of the excesses and deciding to quit before he lost his sanity or his life. Ronnie Wood slotted in nicely both musically and in terms of the lifestyle. He loved the rock and roll party life and was a great onstage foil for Keith.

Then, suddenly the film ended. I had expected to be taken at least up to the departure of Bill Wyman in 1993, but that was not to be. In all honesty I was quite relieved as the film had already covered what for me (and most others I suspect) was the period when the band was in their prime, both on record and on stage.

Overall the film does what it sets out to do and I would say that it is an entertaining couple of hours. Of course those rich enough to afford tickets for their forthcoming London and New Jersey shows, will also be guaranteed an entertaining couple of hours. Having already witnessed the boys strut their stuff twice before, I'll pass on this one.