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Good concept, poorly executed.

It's entirely possible that sending the audience out feeling lousy was intentional

This is a gorgeous movie made by a gorgeous spirit.

The acting in this movie is really good.

It's gritty, grimy, meandering, raw, crass, dark, dreary, miserable and spectacular - just what life on the road with the World's Greatest Rock Band should be. This seemingly uninhibited peek behind the curtain of Pop celebrity is not always pretty, not always inspiring, but it is nearly always absolutely fascinating.There are few people in the world that can comprehend exactly what it means - what it feels like - to be at the center of the whirling cyclone of attention directed towards international mega stars, and Robert Frank does his best to give us a meager glimpse of the insatiable monster. The few moments of near still quiet that occur between Mick and Bianca are so oddly surreal, partly because of the quaintly eerie sound from the music box that Bianca is playing with, but largely because such mundane moments of domestic interaction are in such outrageous contrast to the non stop vortex of madness surrounding them. Business plans and arrangements are somehow accomplished in fractured, hectic, incomprehensible shouts and whispers among the din of their party life. Society's sophisticates, like Truman Capote and Lee "Princess" Radziwill rub sweaty elbows with the likes of "Snatch Girl", "Junky Soundman" and other lowly denizens of the underground conduit. Girls are witnessed fulfilling every promise that is implied by their status as Groupies. And even other celebrities at times seem bewildered and stunned by the carnivalesque proceedings, like Tina Turner's moment in the dressing room where she is every bit a deer in the headlights of the Stones' thundering locomotive. Maybe she always looked that way back then, battered as she was by Ike, but her expression is so perfectly matched to my own feelings of shock and awe.The few live musical moments are thrilling in their intimacy, their proximity to that entity that is the Band at work. On and back stage the camera functions as a trusted band mate. It's the eyes and ears and heart of an active, invaluable member of the group - the audience. And as valuable and irreplaceable as that role is, we, the fans, are still left behind when the camera closes in on the face of an enraptured (possibly tripping) Keith as he unleashes a flesh tearing solo. No one but the boys themselves will ever know just exactly what wonderful, magical, mysterious stuff it was to be at the center of their mad, beautiful world, but now I have a fair clue, and it's awesome.

Watched this on my Ipod on a holiday flight as a real dyed in the wool Stones fan. However, the copy I saw had obvious editing problems and may have been a rough-cut, but then again maybe not...John Lennon once likened the madness around the Beatles mid-60's tours as like Fellini's Satyricon, well here it's certainly made flesh as we get a more candid than candid fly-on-the-wall insight into life on the road with the Rolling Stones around the time of their 1972 US tour. It's not an edifying sight, with groupies being treated as casual sex-objects to the amusement of the leering male entourage, drugs openly ingested by needle and inhalation and of course the classic "rock-star" cliché of Keith Richard ceremoniously dumping a TV out of the band's high-storey hotel window.In between these scenes of madness are odd shots of, or sequences with celebrity hangers-on like Truman Capote and Dick Cavett, as well as star support turns Tina Turner and Stevie Wonder and endless static non-shots of Mick and a gap-toothed Keith (Bill Wyman, Mick Taylor and Charlie Watts barely get a look-in) and other grainy shots of producer Jimmy Miller well on his way to his early drug-overdose death, if the footage here is any guide. At times in fact the whole sometimes looks like some cheap, almost "snuff"-type exploitation movie.Somehow though, the endless boozing and schmoozing doesn't affect the band on stage and they look like the great louche rockers they were by this point. Thus there's the odd occasional musical interlude where the "film" flickers to life (an exciting encore of Stevie's "Uptight" spliced with the Stones' "Satisfaction") and a rollicking "Happy" but watching this monument to decadence, hedonism and self-indulgence left me at the end actually liking the Stones less, certainly as people. No, for me the whole sex and drugs and rock roll mystique is shot to bits here and I can only hope that the Stones themselves are a bit older and wiser now. To paraphrase John Lennon again, you shouldn't ought to have been there!

I like the Stones older music, not so much in love with the dudes that I would defend them though. This movie starts good, or fair enough. I didn't mind initial scenes of excess-- was to be expected from what I had already heard about the film...Problem; heroin taking, groupy fondling, and much of the gabbing wasn't done by the Stones but by some dude, who knows who the hell he was, who was enjoying the excess. So I have to agree with Mick and the gang, this movie's exploitive in that it features them, and keeps cutting to some scumbag getting his kicks from the attention he got out of association. Not my bag.The Stones are stoned, who cares. Best line, when Mick is messing with some 16MM cameras and looks up at the documentarian, in a very stoned out scene, saying 'Do you wear the same socks everyday?'Worst is the scene that looks like something out of a Bucky Beaver 8MM porn stag film... Don't worry ma, I didn't see anything because obviously they hadn't invented razors back then...Rent "Give Me Shelter" instead (if you haven't seen it on DVD.) Trust me, if you were missing out I'd tell you.

semi-staged documentary trying to show the coolness of the rolling stones, but the only thing they can think of doing is taking drugs and trashing hotel rooms. the banality is overwhelming, and displays the collapse of a counter culture into unimaginative squalor. I like the Stones' music, but they make lame celebrities.