‘The Stones And Brian Jones’ Is Director Nick Broomfield’s Tribute To The Fallen ‘60s Icon

62 years into their existence, the Rolling Stones are back in the charts. While the band is still led by childhood friends Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, it was actually the brainchild of guitarist Brian Jones, who died in 1969, a month after they fired him. Jones named the group (after a Muddy Waters song), recruited its original lineup, and established its mission: to spread the gospel of American blues. Jones was one of their visual focal points, a blonde dandy surrounded by raven-haired louts, and added crucial musical touches to their landmark ‘60s recordings.     

The Stones and Brian Jones is the latest film from documentarian Nick Broomfield (Kurt & Courtney, Whitney: Can I Be Me). Known for his influential directorial style as well as his provocative takes on pop culture, Broomfield inserts himself into the filmmaking process, narrating and often appearing on screen, in an attempt to strip away the alienating pretensions of objectivity. In the film’s opening moments, Broomfield recalls sharing a train ride with Jones when he was a teenage Stones fan and being shaken by his death just a few years later. 

Far from the working class ruffians they were portrayed as and played at, Jones grew up middle class in Cheltenham, England, 100 miles from London and a world away. His parents were strict Welsh Baptists who discouraged his musical ambitions. In an archival interview, his father Lewis Jones talks about Brian’s love of jazz music being “a great disappointment to us, and a source of considerable anxiety.”

Bristling with resentment towards the authority figures around him, Jones sought refuge in blues and jazz and women. Kicked out of home at 17, he developed a habit of moving in with the families of his girlfriends, only to leave them after they’d become pregnant with his child. He had two children before the Stones even formed and would father another three before his death, none of whom he raised.

Jones formed the Rolling Stones soon after moving to London, sharing an infamously dilapidated flat with Jagger and Richards. Initially the best musician in the band, he meticulously studied hard-to-find blues records, learning the fine points of slide guitar and harmonica. In a letter back home, he refers to himself as the “leader and spokesman for the Stones” and was treated as such by the press and legions of fans, reportedly receiving more fan mail than the other members.

With his distinctive blonde bowl cut, Jones shared the limelight with Jagger. His ego, however, took a succession of hits as the Jagger / Richards songwriting partnership pushed the Stones to the top of the pop charts. Jones was both a blues purist and had a restless musical spirit, seeking new sounds and learning new instruments. He lacked the confidence to assert himself as a songwriter despite the fact that his melodic contributions – the sitar on “Paint It Black,” the marimba on “Under My Thumb,” the recorder on “Ruby Tuesday” – should have qualified him as a co-writer.         

Though Jones relished being a pop star, he wasn’t built for the pressures of fame. He fell ill on the road, the band sometimes performing without him, and would throw tantrums if he didn’t get his way. His bandmates had little sympathy. Former Stones bassist Bill Wyman, the only band member to appear in the film, speaks admiringly of his musicianship but says he was “really horrible sometimes.” In an archival interview, deceased drummer Charlie Watts says he wasn’t “strong enough” for touring nor for the drink and drugs he turned to in desperation. Meanwhile, Jagger and Richards would tease and prank Jones, sending his paranoia into overdrive. 

In girlfriend Anita Pallenberg, a strong-willed German-Italian model and actor, Jones seemed to find his soulmate. When she left him for Keith Richards in early 1967, it sent him into an emotional freefall that worried even his disapproving father. Drugs and drug arrests would exacerbate his depression and sense of persecution. His musical input decreased and he was increasingly shunned within the band he had formed. 

Unable to tour due to legal issues and his general state, Jones was fired from the Rolling Stones in June 1969. A month later he drowned in his swimming pool after passing out from a combination of alcohol and sedatives. Two days later, the group performed in London’s Hyde Park, debuting new guitarist Mick Taylor. Jagger read “Adonais” by Percy Bysshe Shelley, written after the death of his friend and fellow poet John Keats. Afterwards, roadies released boxes full of butterflies while in an archival interview Jagger says Jones was “kind of a butterfly.“ It’s clumsy and hammy.

The Stones and Brian Jones is certainly a thorough and professionally done bio-doc and Broomfield’s affection for the subject matter is obvious. My main complaint is it doesn’t go far enough in explaining Jones’ musical and cultural importance, though perhaps that’s my own subjectivity showing through, being a Stones fan myself with a deep knowledge of their history. The film ends on a heartbreaking note, with the reading of a letter to Brian from his father, which was discovered 40 years after the guitarist’s death. “I don’t suppose you will ever forgive me,” father says to son, “all I ask is just a little of that affection I think you once had for me.” It could have been Brian talking to his band. 

Benjamin H. Smith is a New York based writer, producer and musician.