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Mike Wilmington

By Mike Wilmington

Wilmington on Movies. The Rolling Stones: Some Girls Live in Texas


The Rolling Stones: Some Girls Live in Texas (Three and a Half Stars)

U.S.-U.K.: 1978-2011
       It was 1964, the summer after my senior year in high school, and the song blasting out of the juke box at the Arctic Circle, a frozen custard drive-in and major high school hang-out in Williams Bay, Wisconsin, was “Satisfaction” by The Rolling Stones. With its unforgettable Keith Richards fuzzy riff, its driving Charlie Watts drumbeat and its cynical lyrics, pungently  and bluesily sung by Mick Jagger, it hooked me. It’s hooked me many time since — on records, at parties, breaking the silence of my lonely room,  and at the various Stones concerts, more than a few, that I’ve attended over the years, in Chicago, Los Angeles and New York.
I don’t remember hearing “Satisfaction” in the new live concert feature, The Rolling Stones: Some Girls Live in Texas, made at a vintage 1978 Stones show in Fort Worth, Texas, which plays in many selected theatre this Tuesday, Oct. 18 — even though that song is usually a mainstay of any Stones concert.  It doesn’t matter, The movie, a record of the Lone Star/Stone Star State gig of the American tour done in support of the recent release of the now-classic album “Some Girls”  is a priceless show, one of their best on film.
The show contains many Stones standards — including the scorcher “Jumping Jack Flash,” the matchlessly horny rocker “Honky Tonk Women,” the screaming but suave “Brown Sugar,” the peerlessly rock ‘n rolling “Tumblin’ Dice” and, of course, some of the prime cuts from “Some Girls”  —  from  the jaunty “Miss You” (a disco piece for people who hate disco) and, one of my all-time favorites, the yearning, howling “Beast of Burden.” There’s also some present-day remembrances and Mick Jagger jabber.
The “Some Girls” lineup consists of Jagger on vocals and miscellany, Richards and Ron Wood on guitars, Bill Wyman on bass, and the unbeatable Watts on drums — plus the Stones’ usual top-class sidemen. Mick wails and shouts. Keith explodes. Woodie blasts. Bill makes the bottom go right through you. And jazz fan Charlie pounds and crashes and never skips a beat. They all kill you.
The songs, great rockers all, are by Jagger and Richards, with some covers of Chuck Berry and others. The night looks hot and the band plays hotter. It’s a fantastic concert. They were still giving fabulous concerts the last time I saw them in 2007  — in company with the most beautiful girl (and one of the biggest Stones fans) in the world. And they’ve been making great music ever since I heard Mick wail out “I Can’t Get no Satuisfaction” from the Arctic Circle juke box and make my summer day. Hey-hey-hey! That’s what I say! 
The film comes from Fathom, More2Screen and Eagle Rock. For tickets, call up the various theatres showing it or browse     
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One Response to “Wilmington on Movies. The Rolling Stones: Some Girls Live in Texas”

  1. Doug says:

    No, they didn’t do ‘Some Girls’.


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It shows how out of it I was in trying to be in it, acknowledging that I was out of it to myself, and then thinking, “Okay, how do I stop being out of it? Well, I get some legitimate illogical narrative ideas” — some novel, you know?

So I decided on three writers that I might be able to option their material and get some producer, or myself as producer, and then get some writer to do a screenplay on it, and maybe make a movie.

And so the three projects were “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep,” “Naked Lunch” and a collection of Bukowski. Which, in 1975, forget it — I mean, that was nuts. Hollywood would not touch any of that, but I was looking for something commercial, and I thought that all of these things were coming.

There would be no Blade Runner if there was no Ray Bradbury. I couldn’t find Philip K. Dick. His agent didn’t even know where he was. And so I gave up.

I was walking down the street and I ran into Bradbury — he directed a play that I was going to do as an actor, so we know each other, but he yelled “hi” — and I’d forgot who he was.

So at my girlfriend Barbara Hershey’s urging — I was with her at that moment — she said, “Talk to him! That guy really wants to talk to you,” and I said “No, fuck him,” and keep walking.

But then I did, and then I realized who it was, and I thought, “Wait, he’s in that realm, maybe he knows Philip K. Dick.” I said, “You know a guy named—” “Yeah, sure — you want his phone number?”

My friend paid my rent for a year while I wrote, because it turned out we couldn’t get a writer. My friends kept on me about, well, if you can’t get a writer, then you write.”
~ Hampton Fancher

“That was the most disappointing thing to me in how this thing was played. Is that I’m on the phone with you now, after all that’s been said, and the fundamental distinction between what James is dealing with in these other cases is not actually brought to the fore. The fundamental difference is that James Franco didn’t seek to use his position to have sex with anyone. There’s not a case of that. He wasn’t using his position or status to try to solicit a sexual favor from anyone. If he had — if that were what the accusation involved — the show would not have gone on. We would have folded up shop and we would have not completed the show. Because then it would have been the same as Harvey Weinstein, or Les Moonves, or any of these cases that are fundamental to this new paradigm. Did you not notice that? Why did you not notice that? Is that not something notable to say, journalistically? Because nobody could find the voice to say it. I’m not just being rhetorical. Why is it that you and the other critics, none of you could find the voice to say, “You know, it’s not this, it’s that”? Because — let me go on and speak further to this. If you go back to the L.A. Times piece, that’s what it lacked. That’s what they were not able to deliver. The one example in the five that involved an issue of a sexual act was between James and a woman he was dating, who he was not working with. There was no professional dynamic in any capacity.

~ David Simon