Director: Brett Morgen
Cast: Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Charlie Watts, Ronnie Wood, Bill Wyman, Mick Taylor
Running time: 118 minutes
Plot: On their 50th anniversary, The Rolling Stones narrate the story of their illustrious career, from their inception to the present day, using rare and extraordinary archive footage.
In CROSSFIRE HURRICANE, we witness five men disappear so far up their own arses, they could suck their own tonsils. This is shameless self aggrandizing on a truly tyrannical scale.
It should be said that the archive footage is excellent, and the film is well edited. But a documentary can’t really be praised for containing footage filmed over forty years ago, even if it’s well put together. You can make a collage, but if you didn’t create the pictures, we must go on how you use them. And this documentary seems to serve one purpose, to have five incredibly rich men talk about how great they are.
Stock footage of the band performing is intercut with imagery of social upheaval (such as riots, protests etc) and Morgen seems to want to suggest that our extremely wealthy, white male musicians are in some way a catalyst (if not actually responsible) for such change. I’m surprised Jagger doesn’t take credit for the civil rights movements (although they do include an image of Martin Luther King’s funeral).
It’s quite interesting seeing them all much younger. Wyman looks like Javier Bardem’s grumpy stuntman in NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN while Keith Richards seems to be played by Rob Brydon’s skeleton. Charlie Watts appears as unassuming then as he does now and is the only Stone not to come across as a complete cock. Richards, who seems to melt as the film progresses, boasts more and more about how his drink and drugs habit went unpunished. Apart from the time he went to prison but was released after a day and once when he had to do a little community service in Canada. Why was he treated with such leniency? It’s never explained or justified, Morgen assumes that the audience will revel in the opulence and priviledge of The Rolling Stones. He is never critical of the band, but paints them as victims, as trail blazing rebels over coming the odds against a society that looks down on such scruffy free spirits. Even their famous reluctance to pay tax is blamed on someone else and their subsequent migration to France and refusal to pay further tax is exhibited as completely reasonable and in no way a demonstration of their utter, utter avarice.
A documentary should be investigation, not an exhibition. Morgen doesn’t get under their skin, he massages it. Richards’ most insightful contribution is ‘You just don’t fuck with The Stones.’ Bill Wyman’s most insightful contribution is ‘When girls get excited, they wet themselves.’ Philosophers, all.
Long story short, this is nothing more than a two hour back-slapping session. Fans will be thrilled by it and the songs, of course, are great. But you can get them on YouTube (Don’t pay for the albums, they have enough sodding money). With The Rolling Stones currently charging a month’s rent for one ticket to see them live, CROSSFIRE HURRICANE is an equally shameless endeavor from some men who expect nothing from you except your praise and your money. This film is like dragging a wrinkly scrotum across a harp; Sure it might sound quite pleasant, but its a painful experience and essentially bollocks.
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