(Albert, holding the camera, with his brother David Maysles)
Here, the noted documentary filmmaker recalls his seminal 1970 work, “Gimme Shelter,” that became notorious for its bluntly honest portrayal of the 1969 Rolling Stones free concert at Altamont Speedway. Over 300,000 fans were policed only by a group of antagonistic Hell’s Angels. As night fell, an African-American man, Meredith Hunter, was stabbed to death, his killing caught forever on the Maysles’ film reel.
Albert says: “Cecile Beaton took a portrait of Mick Jagger for Vogue in 1970, the same year our documentary on The Rolling Stones, “Gimme Shelter,” was released. I’d met Beaton a few times, and always thought his work was very good. I recognized in Beaton’s portrait the Jagger I’d been on the road with for two weeks; charismatic, sexy, almost aloof -- and the ultimate showman.
My brother David and I began our personal odyssey with the Stones in 1969, when our great friend, cinematographer Haskell Wexler, called saying [he was thinking of filming the Stones but somehow instead he advised us they would be at the Plaza Hotel the next day], so he’d recommended us. The very next day we went to the Plaza to meet with the Stones. At that point, I’d never heard of them. It just so happened they were playing that night in Baltimore, and we caught a glimpse of their brilliance. Then we saw them play Madison Square Garden. Immediately we knew we had to go on tour with these guys; not just because they were the greatest rock ’n roll act ever, but because we had a hunch something extraordinary would happen. And I’d never been star-struck, but these guys had some special qualities that were compelling; their obvious talent and raw, visceral energy.
Prior to “Gimme Shelter” we’d already reached a pinnacle in our career with “Salesman” (1968) and earlier 1964’s “What’s Happening! The Beatles in the U.S.A,” which had been a sheer joy to make. Everything was positive about The Beatles. They were young, ingenuous, and to me a reflection of more innocent times. Their lyrics were poetic, beautiful, romantic – they mirrored the idealism and hopefulness of Sixties’ youth and were the perfect antidote to John. F. Kennedy’s assassination in 1963. But by 1969 that climate had changed, and everything converged to the point where “Gimme Shelter” became the perfect match for the rest of what happened in that decade.
It heralded a darker time; started by the Vietnam war in 1965, and coming to a head with the Kent State University massacre in 1970. It was like a pressure cooker. One might all too easily attribute the violence at Altamont to some of the Stones’ lyrics, but it was a fortuitous score for, rather than the cause of, the violence. Just by their song titles – “Sympathy For The Devil” and “Under My Thumb” – their lyrics were a near perfect coincidental orchestration for the events at Altamont, and it marked the end of that decade and the death of an ideal.
Our first shoot with the Stones was the Madison Square Garden concert. Backstage, just as we were gearing up, Jagger announced; “You know, I’m not going to act in this film of yours. And none of that Pennebaker shit.” At the time I didn’t know what Jagger meant, but I let it slide. I knew D.A. Pennebaker well, and so years later I told him about Jagger’s strange remark. Pennebaker explained that he’d asked Jagger to take part in a fiction film he was making, but Jagger had no interest in acting. So then it made sense. We started filming, and I knew that, somehow, Jagger ‘got’ from what we were filming and the way we worked that whatever we did would be good for the film.
From then on the Stones never interfered with filming. They were always natural with us. Onstage I found Jagger’s sensual strut fascinating to capture on film – all I had to do was move with it. David had a special affection for Mick, because he reminded him of our cousin who was a fighter pilot, and shared the same bravado and physical appeal. Offstage I found Mick somewhat reticent, and Keith more accessible and talkative. We never got that close and personal with any of them. We just hung-out with them between shoots.
Of course there were always groupies hanging around. There were two in particular who kept popping up en route. One day, we noticed one of them was missing, and we guessed she was with Jagger. When she returned, her friend asked her what Jagger was ‘like’ -- to which her friend replied; “Well, he was okay but he was no Mick Jagger.” I thought that to mean it was too brief a sexual encounter for her liking.
After Madison Square Garden, we traveled to the Muscle Shoals recording studio, where I filmed the Stones listening to the playback of “Wild Horses.” It’s a unique experience to listen to the music as the Stones are listening to it – magic. The Stones’ facial expressions and gestures provided us with the kind of telling detail we needed to give insight into them as people, like panning over to Keith, who was slouched back on the sofa, and zooming in on his beat-up old snake-skin boots. Then watching Charlie, close-up, for a good five minutes. You don’t have to know what Charlie’s thinking to have a feeling of what his love for the music is. I cut to Mick at just the right moment, as he did his iconic little hand flourish to signal the end of the song.
Then came Altamont. We arrived prior to the Stones to get our crew set-up in the middle of the night. We were crossing these pampas-like fields, walking from one hill to another, and ended-up at a hurricane fence. Someone began to pull the fence down so it would be easier for us to cross. Later, Stanley Booth told me that Keith noted it signified, “The first act of violence.” It was a real omen for the night ahead.
I was on stage out of sight of Hunter while David and his cameraman filmed the killing of Hunter as the Stones played “Under My Thumb.” I think the Stones knew something was happening, but they didn’t know what exactly. The atmosphere was confused and chaotic. Moments before Hunter was killed, he was waving a gun around, possibly at the stage. Then he was stabbed by a Hell’s Angel. Even though it was pandemonium, I was so intent on filming that I didn’t give one thought for my own personal safety. I had been in that same spot as Hunter earlier in the day, and one of the people in the crowd had said, “If you don’t get out of here, I will kill you.” So I climbed up onto the stage. If I had stayed there I would have been right there, next to Hunter.
We’d been following the Stones for two weeks, and it was the end of the road for us. I was looking forward to seeing my girlfriend (now wife) whom I lived with at the Dakota. Not that she minded me being on the road, but it was time to go home. And we now had 100 hours of footage in the can. I just knew we had a very special film.
Some months later, we took some footage of the killing scene to the Hell’s Angels. We wanted to film their reactions to it. But once there, they refused to cooperate. At one point, David was invited to go, alone, down the hall to a back room with some of the Hell’s Angels to conduct the negotiations -- whereupon David was assaulted and we got out of there as soon as possible.
After Altamont, the Stones asked to see some raw footage of the film, which gave us a way get their reactions without interviewing them. As Charlie watched the Altamont rollback, it reminded me of Charles Dickens’ “Tale of Two Cities” where the opening scene is a bottle of wine crashing against the street and the red wine flows. You know it’s a dread portent for the flow of blood of the coming revolution. When David showed Mick the footage of the killing, Mick just said, very quietly; “It’s so horrible.” I don’t understand how some people have interpreted that as Mick not having any feelings. It’s not my interpretation at all; I think he was very much disturbed by it.
When we originally made the film, it was on a mutual trust basis, without any release or contract with the Stones -- which meant we had total freedom. The Stones gave us $14,000 to shoot Madison Square Garden, and $120,000 for Muscle Shoals and Altamont. When they gave us the money, there were no strings attached. David and I took on the majority of the financial risk – there was $500,000 of our own money in it.
But we were naïve, and our only concern was to make a great film. We didn’t enter into any negotiations for the release, which was unfortunate because once it was completed, we still didn’t have a release. Altamont is enough of a bummer for an entertainer that Jagger couldn’t bring himself to sign it. But six months later, David met a friend of Jagger’s -- Donald Camel – who saw the film and loved it. Camel said; “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Mick, and you’ll be all set.” And that’s what happened. To the Stones’ credit, it remained exactly the same film; there were no changes.
I still don’t know if the Stones have ever been happy with “Gimme Shelter.” One can never know exactly how they felt, because I was, after all, bringing bad news that could so easily have soured my relationship with them. But it didn’t.
I’ve seen the Stones a few times since “Gimme Shelter.” In 1994 I was asked to film them for the VH1 programme “Conversations With the Rolling Stones.” Even though the Stones were in an interview setting, they were very relaxed. Jagger talked about writing lyrics at the last minute, and Richards told how he came up with the riff for “Satisfaction.” They let us film part of a tour rehearsal that they’d originally told others was off-limits. When I was filming Keith Richards, I whispered to him, “Can we film you guys in rehearsal?” All he said was; “I’ll talk to Mick about it.” But then it happened, and we got our access.
I went to film the Stones again when they played in October 2006 at the Beacon Theatre for Bill Clinton’s 60th birthday and fundraiser for the “William. J. Clinton Foundation.” Scorsese was making a documentary film about the Stones, and he told me I could do whatever I wanted. I’m told much of my footage will be used. The Stones all hugged me when I arrived, and Marty (Scorsese) told me later that not only did he want me there, but Mick and Keith deliberately specified that I should be there, too. I’m fond of them all and I think the feeling’s mutual. After the Beacon performance, we were all hanging out on the stage with Clinton, and Keith was holding this raggedy old cigarette in his mouth. Not thinking, I said; “I guess you’re still smoking” – imagining it was just a cigarette…well, some things never change!
“Gimme Shelter” has no end for me, because people are always talking about it. Some as a landmark of their youth, or as a piece of nostalgia that they’d otherwise never have kept in their memory.”