Cinema has licked the boots of The Rolling Stones so many times over the years that Scorsese’s slick new doc about the band, produced by the foursome themselves, struggles to say anything new, especially as the doors remain shut on their off-stage personas. Long gone are the days when Jagger masturbated for Robert Frank in Cocksucker Blues or the band bashed at the piano late at night in an Irish hotel for Peter Whitehead’s Charlie Is My Darling.

Like his subjects, Scorsese is no longer a youngster with time on his hands and something to prove. At 66, he is one of the world’s most recognised, respected and busy filmmakers. Crucially, though, his filmography includes some of rock’s most iconic collisions with celluloid: think of ‘Jumpin’ Jack Flash’ soundtracking De Niro’s entrance in Mean Streets (1973) and Bob Dylan playing for his camera in The Last Waltz (1978). It’s that kudos, more than anything else, that Scorsese brings to Shine a Light. He’s a safe pair of hands for a band as aware as ever of their image while appearing not to care about anything so un-rock ’n ’roll as public relations.

The result? All the director does to induce that age-old Stones-Scorsese alchemy is switch on the camera, let the band play, insert the odd clip from Charlie Is My Darling and other docs, and his job is done. This is a superior concert film, no more, no less, blessed with the nod from Scorsese that makes it more than another tour film.

Further information on Shine a Light.