Candidates for
the National Film Registry:
The Wild One and Gimme Shelter
[Written response
to Ms. Lund's lecture, from Stanley Goldstein,whom the film's credits
list as providing "Special Help" on "Gimme
Shelter"]
November 10, 1998
Dear Ms. Lund:
While doing research
on film archives and preservation I found the introduction you wrote
regarding the nomination of "Gimme Shelter" to the National Film
Registry. As it happens it is specifically that film that inspired
my research. The film certainly is deserving of the application of
the best available technology to assure its availability in the best
possible condition for future generations. I have informed Albert
Maysles of the nomination. For some reason he knew nothing about
it.
I was intimately
and intricately involved with the Maysles'1,
as participant and observer, in the making of the film and in the
events it documents; from the planning of the first shoot through
to setting up theaters nationally for its exhibition. Because I filled
many roles - sound recordist, production manager, music mixer, contract
negotiator, consultant, and advisor - the Maysles offered to give
me whatever credit(s) in the film I wished. I thought it would be
unseemly to be listed in so many categories and doing that would,
as well, diminish the value of the credits others received for their
contributions. So I chose to be listed once as "Special Help". I
want you to have that background so that you will give credence to
the comments that follow and because I am simultaneously soliciting
your assistance.
It is easy to
understand why the film is paired with "The Wild One" and to wish
it weren't so. Because the films are used as levers to raise issues
of great societal moment it is important to draw the comparisons
and frame the argument as inclusively and accurately as possible.
One created a context. The other was created by its context.
The Wild One's
roots are in a long "B" movie tradition of exaggeration, exploitation,
sensationalism, and glorification of violence and brutality. It used
reports of a real event as the skeleton for a fictional construct
that attempted to create a sense of immediacy and reality. Accuracy,
historical truth, was not only not the objective, it was of no interest.
The other is
an exposition of real events captured as they occurred. Gimme Shelter's
skeleton is constructed of real bones. It is a primary source, not
perhaps of the whole truth of Altamont, but certainly closer to the
truth than much of the sensational, misleading, and often inaccurate
reporting of the event. "Gimme Shelter" does not try to assign responsibility
or affix blame. If it did it would not be a Maysles' film. Rather
it lets those involved reveal themselves. It displays the development
and denouement of a modern tragedy. In giving us those tools it demands
and permits us, the viewers, to make judgements about the event and
about those caught up and defined by it. And, it inspires us, as
it has you, to ask uncomfortable, but important questions.
I hope the following
information will help you to understand what occurred, how the situation
at Altamont developed, and the aftermath. I believe that a careful
review of the film, my comments, and other available sources (to
which I would be happy to point or introduce you)2 will
lead you to reconsider some of the "facts" that have been widely
accepted as truth, on which some of your introduction has been based.
First: a minor
point. Describing Brando's gang as beatniks, obnoxious or otherwise,
is a disservice to Kerouac, Ginsberg, Corso, Cassidy, et al. The
Beats were among the most peaceful of people. Many subscribed to
the Buddhist tenets of non-violence. Their drug indulgences made
them part of a criminal class along with jazz musicians, other artists,
poor blacks, etc. They were vilified as pacifist dropouts, as antisocial,
but not ever, to the best of my knowledge, as gang members or gangsters.
If anything they were outcasts not outlaws. Gang members would not
have accepted the label of beatnik, any more than the Hells Angels
would permit anyone to call them hippies.
Long before the
ban on showings of "The Wild One" was lifted the outrages at Selma
and other civil rights brutalities, Viet Nam protests and war scenes,
Chicago's madness, assassinations, motorcycle gang excesses, and
other non-fiction violence were ubiquitous on television, in newspapers,
on campus, and in the streets. It wasn't suspected of lurking somewhere
out there. It was known. It was real. It was experienced in one way
or another by everyone here and in England. That that was true doesn't
diminish the horror of Altamont, but the societal context in which "Gimme
Shelter" was shown was very different from that of 1953.
As to "Gimme
Shelter":
Because the focus
of the introduction is on the violence that is so graphically documented
and to contributing factors; I will limit this mainly to those matters
except to note that Mick said: ". . . behave in large gatherings."
The film makers
attempt, successfully I believe, to show a timeline, cutting back
and forth between Stones' concerts, travel, recording, and the simultaneous
activities taking place across the continent where a near hysteria
was developing.
A permit to hold
the concert in Golden Gate Park, the site of many such events, was
initially granted and then withdrawn. A deal for an alternate venue,
at a site controlled by Filmways3,
seemed secure, but was killed after equipment had been delivered.
By then the time was very short and doing the concert had become
a compulsion for a lot of people. They were committed.
There was no
central control. The Stones weren't there, though some of their management
was and some of their crew. Others from the festival/rock & roll
concert community and the San Francisco "scene" were loosely allied
and pitching in. Mostly it was volunteers who wanted to help throw
a party. They wanted to have a "Woodstock" where many thought it
had rightfully belonged.
For what it's
worth I'm the guy who said, in a meeting at the Grateful Dead's ranch, "What?'
You don't have a lawyer?' You guys will never make a deal for a site
or get the permits.' You don't know how." So the next morning I set
out to get an attorney and got Melvin Belli.
There had been
a lot of planning, all wasted. By the time the site at Altamont was
secured, the deal done, legalities observed, and permits obtained,
there were less than 24 hours till show time. The plan was: get as
much stuff to the site as possible, put up as much of what fit that
could be completed with whatever crew there was. Equipment was scattered
all over the Bay Area - in storage, delivered to the wrong site4,
on trucks headed in the wrong direction or simply stopped, somewhere
near a telephone, awaiting instruction. Trucks were turned around,
driven to Altamont over roads already crowded with people streaming
to the speedway, unloaded, and then sent back to pick up more. A
lot of the crew had already put in 24/36/48 hours. Some had gone
home to get a little rest or had crashed wherever they were. Some
survived on adrenaline. Others refueled with whatever they thought
could provide the necessary propulsion.
Nobody knew what
or who was coming or when it or they would arrive. The only thing
known for sure was that somehow, one way or another the show would
go on. Emotions ran high. There was a subtext of "we'll show them,
the establishment, the authorities that they can't shut us down." In
retrospect, of course, everyone should have walked away. But, there
was no one, no way to say STOP! NO! And, we shouldn't forget that,
in the aftermath of "Woodstock", there was a general euphoria --
more than a feeling -- the sure knowledge that we, the rock & roll,
be-in, wear a flower in your hair community had triumphed and could,
in anarchy, find peace, and overcome with love any who had an interest
in violence. Not everyone believed that. Some raised concerns about
public safety, control, etc. Those voices were overwhelmed. Besides,
they were concerns not solutions, soon lost in the hustle and the
hurly-burly to get it on.
Some of the Grateful
Dead and the Dead's crew had long established relationships with
some of the Hell's Angels dating back to the time Ken Kesey had invited
the Angels to come "play" with the Merry Pranksters. Over time they
and other groups and promoters had worked out a system that kept
down friction between the Angels and others at concerts and events.
There would be an area set aside, roped off, frequently screened,
that was Angel Land. What happened within that area was considered
private business; not monitored or controlled by the promoter's security.
Right or wrong it was a working accommodation that was understood
pretty universally in the Bay Area5.
After all, the Angels liked to party and dance. They were coming
to the shows, like it or not. You couldn't legally, nor if you had
good sense, refuse to sell them tickets to public events or prevent
them from attending concerts in the park.
At outdoor events
Angel Land was frequently set up near the generators or other critical
equipment. The promoter would give them a few cases of beer and they
would watch over the stuff. They were never asked to perform in a
capacity that required interaction with others in attendance. Only
the foolhardy would risk a confrontation with those watchers in order
to collect souvenirs or play with the gear.
The Stones had
given a free concert in Hyde Park, for a few hundred thousand people,
as a memorial to Brian Jones. The English Hells Angels volunteered
to be an "Honor Guard". It was a lovely, peaceful day. So, it seemed
natural to the Stones' crew to ask them to perform that same or a
similar function at the concert culminating the Stones' US tour.
Sam Cutler, the Stones' Road/Production Manager asked Rock Scully,
a Grateful Dead Road Manager and ex rider, to extend the invitation.
He did. A meeting was arranged at which it was agreed that the Angels
would have an area set aside for them (off downstage right), they
would serve as Honor Guard and their other normal, "watchdog" function,
and they would receive $500 worth of beer as a gratuity6.
I don't know whether the Angels were asked to sit on the edge of
the stage, as Sonny Barger said they were.
As it happened
the show was on the same day as a council meeting of the Bay Area
Hells Angels' Chapters. All of the Angels' leadership attended that
meeting in Oakland and therefore didn't get out to Altamont till
late in the afternoon, long after the violence had begun and had
escalated. Some (many) of the group that was there, early in the
day, were pledges who wanted to demonstrate their "qualifications" for
membership. Had the Presidents, VPs, and other high ranking members
been in attendance earlier things might not have gotten so out of
control. When they did arrive, en mass, they drove right through
the crowd to the stage where they parked their motorcycles. Eventually
the crowd, under pressure from behind, pushed some of the bikes over
or tried to move them out of the way. That inspired a whole series
of confrontations and violent encounters.7 It's
rarely just one thing going wrong that causes a plane to crash or
a ship to sink.
The Stones, on
Haskell Wexler's recommendation, had hired the Maysles to shoot their
concert at Madison Square Garden, paying them $14,000. Fascinated
by the Stones and the phenomena of their tour; Albert and David elected,
with the Stones permission, of course, to travel with them and continue
shooting with an as yet undefined objective. A small part of the
Maysles expenses continued to be paid -- meals when everyone ate
together, some lodging and air travel -- incidentals, the rest was
on them. When it was decided that the Maysles would film the California
free concert the Stones gave them an additional $129,000. All the
other costs of making the film were borne by the Maysles, over $450,000,
until it was nearly completed. Finally, Lenny Holtzer, a New York
socialite and real estate mogul, invested in its distribution, providing
finance to finish the movie.
In-as-much as
the Stones didn't sign releases until six months after the film was
finished, they did have "veto" power or could, theoretically, have
tried to effect the shape or content of the film. To their credit,
they never attempted to exercise that power. They, individually and
as a group, have always shown the greatest respect for the work and
integrity of other artists.8 What
do you suppose Variety or the New York Times would have said if they
had killed the film?
Some others would
not give releases unless minute changes were made, none were substantive
-- a word slurred beyond recognition, one side of a telephone conversation
subsequently rerecorded. The film was initially rated "R". To obtain
a "PG" the word "f***" was eliminated and a few seconds of film were
substituted to replace the image of a bare breasted woman sitting
on someone's shoulders. The Maysles dropped the word and the woman
only because without a "PG" rating a vast audience of kids could
not have seen the film.
I assure you
that profit was not what motivated the interest in having the film
available for more people to see. Isn't it ironic, given the issues
you raise, that an old, vulgar word for the act of love, almost common
again in ordinary conversation, and breasts, which have been declared
legal recently by the courts, weren't considered fit for children
by the arbiters of moral suitability. But, beatings and killings
were passed by the censors without demur.
David, Al, and
I, along with David Myers, a highly respected local cinematographer,
went to the Oakland Angel's home to show them the footage, discuss
releases, and film their reaction. Breaking the agreement that had
been made, the Angels would not permit us to shoot any film. They
refused to give releases for what had been shot, demanding, in fact,
that the stabbing footage be destroyed. There were a lot of reasons:
they didn't wish to be shown in a bad light; the portion showing
the killing might put one of the members at risk, etc. But, their
objections could be overcome if: they were recognized and paid $1,000,000
as "life actors". Later that was reduced to $400,000, so they could
build a clubhouse. David was assaulted while we were there. We were
told that if we didn't meet their demands we would be killed. They
were not paid. The film was not suppressed. Releases were never obtained.
No one was killed though the threat was restated on a number of occasions.
Many believe
the film was instrumental at the trial of the Angel who did the stabbing.
The jury, having seen Meredith Hunter running toward the stage with
a drawn gun, returned a verdict of not guilty. Other reasons advanced
are that, in California, photographic evidence unsupported by reliable
eyewitness testimony cannot be accepted, in capital cases, as proof
and the witnesses, having taken drugs, could not be considered reliable.
So, officially and semantically this was a killing not a murder.
None of us knew,
at the time, exactly when the killing took place or if a camera was
pointed that way. Al Maysles couldn't see the killing from where
he was on the stage. For Baird Bryant, the cameraman who actually
captured it on film, it happened so fast . . . For all he knew it
was just one more of the many scuffles. Only later, back in New York,
when the film was synched up, was it learned, despite all reports
to the contrary, that it happened during the performance of "Under
My Thumb."
It should be
noted that all the known violence occurred at or very near the stage.
Tens of thousands of people had no idea of what was going on just
a few dozen feet away. They knew only that the music was interrupted
frequently. They stayed, picnicked, partied, played, had a good time,
and went home only to learn later from television, radio, newspapers,
magazines, and conversation about what had transpired. With rare
exception the crowd was well behaved and self-controlled.9
In the rush to
print or broadcast there was little accurate reporting of the event.
The Berkeley Barb put the knife in Hunter's hand and gave the Angel
the gun. It was easy to capitalize on the Stones' unwholesome image
and, in instant analysis, point the finger at the "bad boys of rock
and roll." Deadline fever pushed some to present conjecture and rumor
as truth. When information to the contrary was offered it was typically
rejected as unimportant, self serving, or, because there was a new
sensation, no longer of interest. Errors were not acknowledged, corrections
not printed. It was easy to present Altamont as the obverse image
of "Woodstock" and facile to declare the death of "Peace and Music." So,
those reports have been accepted, endlessly repeated, and there is
nothing in the public record to the contrary.
As to the moral
questions:
Aren't documentary
film makers artists, reporters, and historians?10 What
of those responsibilities? What would the judgement be if the Maysles
had abandoned the film? What would the New York Times have said then?
Its critic, Vincent Canby, described, in an article an editor headlined "Making
Murder Pay", what he conjectured must have been the joyful scene,
callous attitude, and counting of profits at the Maysles' studio
when the stabbing footage was discovered. Nothing could have been
further from the truth. There was instead a pall. The discussion
was of the responsibility that had now descended upon them. The Times
would not print a letter I wrote that more accurately described Albert,
David, and Charlotte's reaction unless I would agree to their deleting
language that addressed the critic's charges as reckless and most
revealing of his approach to life and truth. I did not agree. The
letter was never printed.
Pauline Kael,
who was famous, above all, for wanting to appear clever, wrote a
scathing review of the film for the New Yorker -- very clever, but
filled with errors. The Maysles' response, addressed to her and the
New Yorker, was never printed. Later, in a collection of her pieces,
the most grievous, factually inaccurate sections were omitted. Nowhere
was it noted that the reprint was edited or abridged and very different
from what had appeared in the original New Yorker piece.
The Maysles had
other responsibilities as well. Abandonment might well have meant
that their financial standing, their ability to undertake other projects,
would be compromised for years. Imagine for the moment what all of
us would have lost if they had not proceeded -- no "Grey Gardens",
no "Running Fence", no "Horowitz, the Last Romantic", none of the
other remarkable films that have enriched our lives.
Suppose they
had made a concert film, with filler, ala "the Last Waltz" (which
I happen to like); excluding all the Altamont footage. Would that
have been morally correct? Responsible? Could they honestly show,
would it have been moral to show Altamont without showing the killing?
If that had been shown just once in the film, at normal speed, would
the gun have been seen? Would that have been better? Wouldn't that
have effectively excluded what amounts to exculpatory material. Wouldn't
it have obscured the truth? If the film could be faulted for being
brutally frank, should it instead be praised if it had been kindly
dishonest?
What should have
been done about a young man who was running toward the stage with
a gun? I doubt, had the stage been higher, that he would have been
discouraged from whatever he had in mind. Would the Maysles and/or
the Stones be absolved if the profits had been donated to Hunter's
family as was demanded by the underground/alternative press that
had further emotionalized the issue by addressing it almost exclusively
as a racial matter?
Who was responsible?
The Stones for wanting to give a free concert? The Grateful Dead
for being part of an ad hoc group lending their good offices to continue
a San Francisco tradition? The city officials who wouldn't grant
the permit to use Golden Gate Park? Since then hundreds of thousands
have attended peaceful concerts in Golden Gate Park, including, in
the last few years, memorials for Bill Graham and Jerry Garcia.
Who shares the
responsibility? Filmways for steering clear of something in which
it had no corporate interest, nothing to gain?11 The
crowd? The crew? Me? The volunteer medics who patched up the wounded
and tried to save Hunter's life? All of society?
Does moral responsibility
descend ex post facto upon the film makers for having unfailingly
told the truth where others did not. Should we hold the messengers
responsible for our discomfort if the message, delivered in a darkened
theater, does not simply entertain. If the message impels us to ask
the critical questions you pose shouldn't we consider that it may
be coming from a highly moral source? If illumination of man's capacities
offends us should we turn out the lights and blame the sun for affronting
us with shadows?
I hope it is
clear that none of the above is criticism of what you have written.
It, rather, is intended to help you separate fact from fiction from
fantasy, whatever its source. And, to help you posit the argument
above that of some whose motivations may not be so pure. I wish we
could rely upon the news media, if not for absolute accuracy and
the whole story while its need is to be timely, to then follow-up
and, at least, make available the information it has in its possession,
the accuracy and truth of which is beyond question, that is contrary
to its already published reports.
"Gimme Shelter" should
be registered and preserved because it is an extraordinary film.
It is just one small part of an extraordinary body of work. The Maysles
along with their frequent collaborator Charlotte Zwerin12 virtually
defined documentary cinema with "Salesman". Their subsequent films
have continued, in the same uncompromised way, to explore and expose
what it means to be human, sometimes ugly, sometimes glorious. Their
benign influence is pervasive throughout the film community and visible
everywhere documentary film or video is shown. Their studio was and
remains the de facto graduate school, the hallmark of integrity for
aspiring film makers. Their technical contributions to the industry:
developing lightweight, high quality cameras and breaking the sync
connection between camera and sound have been universally adopted,
spawning new generations of equipment for documentary film, news
gathering, and for the large format equipment used in the making
of "Hollywood" movies.
Working with
them was and remains one of the high points of my life. Everyone
should be so blessed.
I have been talking
with Al, along with some others about a potential theatrical rerelease
of the film with prints adapted for current theater technology, of
preserving it digitally, and about a DVD release with multichannel
audio. I hope you would be available to discuss preservation and
digital conversion with me. I, of course, am available and happy
to discuss any matters addressed in this, so much longer than I had
planned, letter. Or, anything else you would like to talk about.
Please let me know when would be a good time to follow up.
I applaud you
for the work you do. Its importance is rarely recognized and, I'm
certain, the rewards are far less than they should be.
Sincerely,
Stan Goldstein
cc: Albert Maysles
ENDNOTES
February 24,
1999
Soon after it
was written I sent copies of the letter to some of those with whom
I worked on "Gimme Shelter". While they confirmed its general accuracy
they did point out a few errors. They questioned a few of my interpretations
and conclusions, suggested some clarifications, and provided additional
information. Their responses have inspired these footnotes. Because
I have consolidated, edited, and interpreted their input there are
no attributions.
Note: References
to the Stones, here or in the body of the letter, mean inclusively
the band, its management, employees, etc. except where it is clear
by context that I am referring to the musicians themselves.
(1) "Maysles", "the
Maysles" may mean, depending on context, exclusively David and Albert
Maysles or the firm of which they were the principals, Maysles Films,
Inc., its employees, and others who participated in the making of "Gimme
Shelter". I have tried, when referring specifically to the brothers,
to use their first names. David passed away on Jan. 3, 1987. Albert
continues to lead the firm which recently produced the remarkable
film "The Making of the Getty Center" for which he was also the principal
cinematographer.Return to text
(2)
See Bay Area newspapers and various issues of "Rolling Stone" from
the time of the concert and from later, when the film was released.
See also "Dance with the Devil: The Rolling Stones and Their Times" by
Stanley Booth, "Sleeping Where I Fall" by Peter Coyote, and "Aquarius
Rising, The Rock Festival Years" by Robert Santelli.Return
to text
(3)
This refers to the Filmways Corporation which owned the nearby Sears
Point Raceway and had many other entertainment industry interests,
about which there will be more later.Return to text
(4)
A lot of it was at Sears Point where construction of a stage had
not only begun, but was, according to some reports, complete except
for a few finishing touches. It couldn't be completely dismantled,
moved, and reconstructed at Altamont in the time available. It is
doubtful, had those or other materials been available, that an adequate
stage could be have been constructed in the hours between acquisition
of the Altamont site and the start of the concert.Return
to text
(5)
These comments are based on very limited personal observation and
contemporary conversations with people in the industry living in
the area. I was a New York resident, recently moved there from Miami,
FL, and was only an occasional visitor to the Bay Area.Return
to text
(6)
While the Hells Angels, as a group, were, to my knowledge, not ever
used as a security force; individual members were frequently hired
as part of their regular security crew by local promoters and by
some in other areas, especially for Dead concerts. I have been informed
that some Angels, who had especially close relationships with members
of the group, its management, or their crew, were occasionally used
by them for personal security. On all those occasions they appeared
without Angel colors or insignia, wore street clothes or the same "uniform" as
other security personnel, and they were subject to the same restrictions,
authorities, and controls.Return to text
(7)
Among my respondents this paragraph caused the most controversy,
including accusations that I am an Angel apologist because I conjecture
that "things might not have gotten so out of control" if the leaders
had been there from the beginning. I abhorred, then and now, their
philosophy, conduct, racism, sexism, propensity for and joy in violence.
They were brutal bullys who sought by costume, manner, and action
not just to intimidate, but to terrorize. Nevertheless, there were
some Angel leaders who were, at least, dismayed by what they found
when they arrived at the site and tried, albeit ineffectually, to
exert or obtain control of the situation. Who knows what might have
happened if they had been there earlier?
Meredith Hunter
had attracted attention to himself, during the day, by behavior,
that even in that setting seemed unusual. He had been involved in
a number of non-violent confrontations with one or more Angels through
the course of the day. He was seen, photographed, and appears in
the film prior to the penultimate incident. I have been told that
members of the Hells Angels prevented medical personnel from treating
Hunter when he was carried to the side of the stage. One is quoted
as having said: "He's going to die anyway." I know that at some point
first aid was administered to no avail. It is unlikely that his life
could have been saved if had been given earlier.
Even more personally,
I find it hard to feel warm and fuzzy toward or make apologies for
people who threaten my life. Especially when those threats are repeated
over the years. A long time after the meeting at the Angels' house
I was stopped on a street in San Francisco by a woman, connected
with the Angels, who asked if I was crazy. "Didn't I believe they
would carry out their threat?" She told me I shouldn't be walking
around in the open like that. Years later, in New York, I was asked
to work on a film being made about the Angels. I was told that my
death sentence would be suspended while I was working on that movie.Return
to text
(8)
I have been corrected. Originally the credits, with music, rolled
over the freeze frame of Mick that ends the main body of the film.
The credit roll over the departing crowd was substituted at the Stones
behest (demand?). That change continues to disturb some who feel
the film was weakened by that ending. Any other changes/adjustments
that were made for the Stones are not considered to have been of
much consequence.
I was reminded
that the Stones would not permit the release into general theatrical
distribution of Robert Frank's film "Cocksucker Blues", shot during
their next U. S. tour. Given the title and content, getting rated
by the MPAA, without drastic alterations, would have been problematic.
It probably would not have been picked up by many exhibitors outside
of major urban markets and it certainly would have been difficult
to advertise. The film is shown regularly at the Museum of Modern
Art in New York, was recently shown at the Castro in San Francisco,
and may occasionally be seen at other locations. Performance footage
originally intended for Frank's film was used to make "Ladies and
Gentlemen, the Rolling Stones" by Roland Binzer.Return
to text
(9)
Some people, disgusted or disheartened by the violence, left early.
Their comments, captured on film, but not used in the movie, suggest
that violent incidents may have occurred
during the show, at other
parts of the site, well away from the stage. By Angels? By others?
Against whom? I don't know.
What I do know
is that after the show was over, while the stage was being taken
apart and equipment was being packed away, some audience members
and a lot of the Hells Angels remained. The Angels built an enormous
bonfire of wood, tires, and other refuse and conducted their own
kind of party some distance from the working area. Like moths to
flame others who remained went to watch, some tried to participate.
Ugly, violent incidents continued on into the night and the next
morning. It seemed sometimes as though there were people just waiting
their turn to get bloodied. Some, after being beaten, would move
away for awhile only to return to get battered again.
The first aid
people had long since left. The injured, who required attention,
were taken away by friends or volunteers from the remaining crowd.
Some of them returned after dropping off the latest casualties, only
to be added later to the growing list of the damaged. Return
to text
(10)
Quoting from a letter: "Documentary filmmakers are not historians.
They are interpreters of history . . . A documentary film is a work
of art. Certainly there are facts and real events, but they are shaped
to make a larger point or there is no point in doing it at all."Return
to text
(11)
What Filmways' interest was, what it wanted, what it did or didn't
do, and why is a side story all its own. A Filmways subsidiary, Concert
Associates, produced the Stones' sold out L. A. concerts. They wanted
to add shows. The Stones wouldn't give them the dates. It was a contentious
relationship. How much did that effect the negotiations and intrude
into the decision regarding the use of Sears Point?
A Filmways executive
tried to coerce David into making a distribution deal for the eventual
film, under the worst possible terms, using availability of the Sears
Point racetrack as a lever. His approach -- browbeating, abusive
language, virtual white mail -- guaranteed rejection. If David had
agreed, which he may not have been entitled to do, and the show had
been held at Sears Point, on the stage already constructed, how different
might the day have been?Return to text
(12)
Charlotte Zwerin is a distinguished, award winning editor, director,
and producer in her own right. She was co-director with David and
Al of "Gimme Shelter" and credited equally with them on "Salesman" and
the other films on which they worked together. Her contribution to
the art is only now, slowly, belatedly being recognized by film historians
and academics. Her knowledge of, feeling for, and sensitivity to
the technical demands and nuances of music and mixing had more positive
effect on my work than any other director with whom I've worked.
That was true as well of her work with the editors; regardless their
professionalism, experience, artistry, and skills.
My failure to
acknowledge her actual film credit, in the letter, was based in my
wish to honor her across the board contribution and participation
in every post production element of the making of the movie. Notwithstanding
her specific, individual contributions; if film is a collaborative
art, than she was, on this one, to me, the ultimate collaborator.
While bowing
to the crediting conventions that were developed for scripted films,
Al believes some of them are inappropriate when applied to documentaries.
He takes particular exception to the title "Director" and the line "Directed
by". Nevertheless, realizing that recognizable terms are important
(perhaps critical) to the careers of those with whom he works, out
of respect for them, to acknowledge and honor the high level of their
participation and contributions to the making of Maysles' films,
he accedes to the use of those terms, even for himself.
In that same
regard, I have never, before or since been: given the latitude and
freedom to exercise my craft; afforded so open an opportunity to
become involve in every element of the film making process, and;
allowed to define my role in terms of professional credits that I
always had when working with the Maysles. I became a Maysles fan
when I saw "Portrait of a Company", a film made for the IBM Corporation
in the early 60's, for showing to its employees. "Salesman", a film
by David, Al, and Charlotte, quite simply, bowled me over. I was
disappointed when they weren't selected to film the Woodstock Festival
in which I was very involved. I sought them out after that show and
one thing led to another.Return to text
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