The Movie
Is Gimme Shelter really the greatest rock film ever made? Is it really a rock film at all, in the sense that most people understand? By asking, I don't mean to imply that I lean toward a negative reply to either; I merely struggle with these questions, because it's hard to find a box -- any box -- into which this powerful 1970 film comfortably fits.
It's a film about music that really isn't about the music. It's a film about a band that really isn't about the band. It's a film about a stabbing that really isn't about the stabbing. It's a film about a culture clash that isn't really about either culture. It's a film about the end of an era that was defined by its music -- no ifs, ands, or buts about it -- which puts us right back at square one, wondering what it's really all about. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing. At least it's worth discussing.
The thing is, on the surface, Gimme Shelter is a Rolling Stones affair, but one almost feels guilty about waxing about the quality of the performances in the film, given the tragedies documented herein: four deaths at the Altamont Motor Speedway, resulting from the clash between drug-addled attendees of a free Stones concert and the Hell's Angels supposedly "hired" to provide security for the show. But it's impossible to ignore the fact that the Glimmer Twins et al were at the top of their game here.
New co-guitarist Mick Taylor was the perfect six-string counterpart for Keef, and Jagger had at this point pushed his preening, prancing, peacock act to the limits without devolving into the over-enunciating self-parody he would later become. He was sex personified, perhaps rock and roll personified, and he knew it. Love 'em or hate 'em, the Stones had no choice but to go downhill from here, and while Gimme Shelter doesn't capture that -- their decline would take a few years to tragically unfold -- the film definitely serves as a sort of foreshadowing allegory for it all.
That's not what the film's about, either, though. Obviously. Truth be told, it's not really about anything. It's a documentary in the truest sense: a moment in history captured and presented with no real value judgment, although it's hard for the viewer not to form judgments of his or her own. It's a snapshot of the end of the 1960s and the beginning of the 1970s, although whether you want to see its violence and tumult as a logical fruition of the five or six years that preceded it or a harbinger of the five or six to follow is a point worth debating.
Whatever you want to say about the cultural implications of the film, as a work of cinema in and of itself Gimme Shelter is an undeniably important work. The way the disparate threads of the film are woven and edited together -- especially the scenes of Jagger and Charlie Watts watching the narrative unfold along with the viewer, like a stoned, laconic Statler and Waldorf -- is a brilliant touch that lends perspective to the events in a way that narration and interviews simply couldn't have.
Gimme Shelter may not be the greatest rock film ever made. It may be crass to label it as a rock film at all, given the weight of everything that transpires within. But there's no denying that it's one of the most important documentaries of the past fifty years, and for that reason it's a must-see no matter what else you want to call it.
The Picture
Much like the film itself, the image is hard to critique. Does one judge the quality of the source, or the fidelity of the transfer? If the latter, this new high-definition transfer of the same 16mm print used for the 2000 DVD release has to be seen as a resounding success. Despite the fact that the source exhibits some heavy grain at times (especially in low-light settings), the image is beautifully compressed, with no digital noise or other artifacts marring the transfer.
Colors are, for the most part, deliciously rich. And the print is shockingly clean, with the exception of some scratches on the negative in the optically duped slow-motion "Love in Vain" sequence and a hair in the gate during a couple of shots at Altamont. If you want to pick nits, there are plenty to pick -- the film was shot guerilla-style with handheld 16mm cameras and available lighting, after all -- but suffice it to say, this Blu-ray represents the best Gimme Shelter has ever looked or ever will.
The Sound
It's doubtful the film will ever sound much better, either. The DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 and 2.0 tracks are definitely a case of asking not what your film can do for your audio format, but what your audio format can do for your film. That is to say, you're not likely to pull out Gimme Shelter the next time you want to show off your system, but both audio options are a noticeable improvement over the lossy compressed tracks found on the 2000 DVD release of the film.
There's an undeniable vintage quality to most of the sound, especially in terms of equalization. Midrange frequencies are definitely prominent in the mix, and the film as a whole is lacking in bottom end. But the music segments sound quite good -- rich and detailed, with no stridency and virtually no noise, aside from the crowd variety, of course. Dialogue and vocals are always crystal clear. And the surround sound mix lends weight and space to the concert sequences without coming off as gimmicky or overly modern. It's hard to ask for much more.
The Extras
Most of the extras from the 2000 Criterion DVD release have been carried over here, the most significant of which is the KSAN Radio Broadcast, 90 minutes' worth of discussions culled from the four-hour post-Altamont radio show, in which attendees and participants (including Hells Angel "Sonny" Barger) call in and give their perspective on the events, or tell their side of the story, as it were. It's an essential counterpart to the audio commentary with directors Albert Maysles and Charlotte Zwerin and collaborator Stanley Goldstein. Both supplements are packed with historical perspective, including the obvious comparisons between Altamont and Woodstock. The commentary also benefits from plenty of in-depth technical discussion about what goes into making a documentary of this nature. Both are essential listening.
The disc also includes 18 minutes' worth of outtakes from the film, including performances of "Oh Carol" and "Prodigal Son," along with some footage from the studio and some backstage banter with Ike and Tina Turner.
There are also three trailers for the film (two vintage and one for the re-release), and two galleries of spectacular photographs by Bill Owens and Beth Sunflower. (And it's a good thing they're spectacular; once you've entered them, there's no way of exiting them that I could find until you've browsed every photo).
Sadly missing from the Blu-ray is the Restoration Demonstration included with Criterion's 2000 DVD. It would have been a worthy inclusion, even in standard definition. Inexplicably, the excellent booklet included with the disc is also missing the "Sonny" Barger essay included with the original release, although it can still be found at Criterion's website.
Final Thoughts
Despite the fact that it's missing a cool supplement from the original DVD release, Criterion's new Gimme Shelter Blu-ray is a worthy upgrade. No matter your thoughts on or opinions of the Rolling Stones or the Hells Angels or the era in question, this is an important film that deserves to be seen the best light. And it's hard to imagine the light getting much better than it is here. Highly recommended.
Product Details
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