This new documentary, which charts the first two decades of the Rolling Stones, screens in two parts on BBC Two; Part One shows tonight, Saturday 17 November, at 10.15pm, while Part Two shows Saturday 24 November at 9.45pm.
Crossfire Hurricane, the latest documentary on the Rolling Stones, takes
its name from a line in “Jumpin’ Jack Flash”, which plays here as if in
response to the preceding segment dealing with band members’ truncated
jail sentences, as well as the subsequent media vilification that sought
to pigeonhole them as morally revolting, incendiary troublemakers. The
song itself, as well as its specific placement in this film,
doubles as a kind of tonal mission statement: it’s fierce, sustained,
enigmatic and mysterious. This was and is a band whose chief strength is
to carry on doing what its members have always wanted to do: play music
without giving much of a fuck as to how it or they are perceived.
Indeed, the Stones’ own oeuvre apparently includes a song for every
narrative scenario, and Brett Morgen’s new film is a
rapid but predictable historical overview of the first twenty years of
the band, reusing and unearthing archive footage to illustrate what will
to devotees be well-trodden terrain.
Not that that’ll matter much. What Crossfire Hurricane boasts is an authorised (Mick Jagger
is listed among the film’s producers) and energetic canvas that brings
together a range of narratives so that certain discrepancies and
consistencies can be confirmed or probed. (Jagger reveals that while Keith Richards
claimed the band moved to France at one point because they were
wrestled out by the police, they actually moved due to tax problems.)
For newcomers too – such as, perhaps, the younger generations of hot MTV
blondes who peopled the front rows in Scorsese’s strategically hip
concert film Shine a Light (2008) – the film assembles and
accumulates the myths and mysticism that have carried the Stones into
the rock’n’roll canon as well as secured the off-stage reputations of
some of its members.
The opening line is a question, asked during the audio interviews
that provide the film its narrative backbone: “How good is your memory?”
After some preamble, Richards answers, “Never let the truth spoil a
good story.” Uneasily, the film never quite shirks this layer of
self-immolation; when it reproduces period hysteria by presenting
newsreels of anchormen claiming that parents of the Stones’ teen fans
have “become homicidal” at the sight of the band, it risks contributing
to the aura of confusion that surrounds any defiantly uncategorisable
artist.
Nevertheless, Crossfire Hurricane touches at points upon
complex questions regarding the artistic process, presenting it
predominantly as one of participation and exchange. To this end, the
formative years of any artist – particularly those working within the
fame-obsessed circles of popular culture – are a playoff between
responding and contributing to the generational zeitgeist. Broadly
speaking, then – like the film, which presents its history in broad
strokes – the Stones form a significant part of any notion of Sixties
“counterculture”, and we deserve to understand their evolution in
material terms. In this respect, Morgen’s film is problematic: extensive
involvement from primary sources does not necessarily amount to a
comprehensive picture. That said, with regard to assessing and
accounting for the extent to which the Stones responded and contributed
to the social currents around them, the most telling moment in Crossfire Hurricane
is of a young Mick Jagger, apparently fatigued by the banal questions
journalists ask him, who remarks that his band is only articulating a
generational dissatisfaction. “With what?” he’s asked. “A
dissatisfaction with the generation that are running our lives.” In this
line alone, the film accounts for the Rolling Stones’ ongoing appeal.
[Originally posted on 23 October 2012 at Front Row Reviews.]