Early in Shine a Light, Martin Scorsese’s concert film of the Rolling Stones performing over two nights at the Beacon Theatre in New York City, a special guest asks to visit with the Stones before the audience files in. That special guest is former president Bill Clinton, Hillary, and Hillary’s mother. The lot of them gather on stage for photo ops—Scorsese watches with a bemused expression from his control room—and mug for pictures. Here is a concentration of Baby Boomer power unlike anything you’ll see anywhere else: Clinton, the Stones, Scorsese. What’s even more fun is the subtle power dynamic at play. It’s Clinton asking for the photo op, and the Stones gamely playing along. Scorsese watches at a distance, but even he’s subject to the whims of the band’s schedule… and after all, without them, he has no film. It’s the Stones’ show.

And it is a show, less a documentary and more a concert film. Early segments paint a humorous picture of what it’s like when the carefully planned world of movies collides with the chaos of a rock show; Scorsese can’t even get a set list until seconds before the Stones take the stage. Scorsese intersperses archival footage every few songs, mostly interviews with journalists through the decades asking the same questions: “How much longer do you think you’ll tour?” “What do you get asked the most often?” And so on. I can’t say I’m too familiar with the Stones’ offstage personalities, but here, at least, they come off as humble and gracious showmen. It helps being humble if you’re just that good.

And they still are, all these years later. The joke, of course, is that the Stones are old; I saw the screening with my dad and he commented that Keith Richards looked like he was about to fall over. But I figure were we there that we’d fall over before he would. Yeah, the Stones are now in their 60’s, but you couldn’t tell it by the energy they put into their performance. Better: They are one of many redefining what it means to be in your 60’s. Maybe it’s time to retire the jokes.

But enough of that; we’re here for the music. Mick’s voice is as strong as it ever was, and the boys put in a strong two hours (actually two shows recorded over two nights). A few younger stars drop in for songs—Jack White comes out, guitar in tow, for one, and Christina Aguilera vamps it up with Mick—but the best cameo by leaps and bounds is by Buddy Guy. He and Mick share singing on the song “Champagne and Reefer,” and then there’s the sublime moment where Guy, Keith Richards, and Ronnie Wood riff off each other. Richards commemorates the moment by giving Guy his guitar.

The obvious comparison for Shine a Light is The Last Waltz, Scorsese’s 1978 documentary and concert film about The Band’s final show, and featured almost every 1970’s musical icon worth mentioning. But there’s no air of melancholy hanging over Shine, just a joy and energy the Stones bring to the show. They’re not phoning it in, even 40 years later.

Shine a Light will be showing on some 90+ IMAX screens across the company alongside regular screen showings. This, coupled with the release of U2 3D on IMAX in January, indicates that the IMAX people have finally figured out what to do with their technology and the heavy ticket price it carries. 40-minute films about fish and Mars expeditions are fine, but cities have science museums for those. But the Rolling Stones—in an intimate venue that seats maybe a thousand people? You’ll never see that live unless you’re very wealthy, very lucky, or the President. (Who are all very lucky and very wealthy, I suppose.) Seeing them for $10, larger than life, is a deal that’s hard to beat.