Thursday, August 11, 2022

"Clusterf**k: Woodstock '99"

I often find myself watching these sorts of documentaries and wondering who the intended audience is.  All the advertising and preview material portrays the festival as a disaster of epic proportions.  But that's not how it comes across watching the full two and a half hour, three part series.  If anything I believe it rehabilitates the reputation of the festival somewhat.  Was the world really waiting for that?  Had Michael Lang succeeded in holding the 50th anniversary Woodstock celebration as he had intended (before his funding fell through) it would have only lent credence to the idea that the sins of '99 had been forgiven. 

The first episode is a confused mess.  Lang and promoter John Scher likely wouldn't have agreed to appear in the series if it was an overly one-sided hatchet job.  On one hand their underlings push the idea of profit-hungry management and willful neglect of the needs of festival goers.  On the other hand there are plenty of videos of era-defining bands entertaining enormous, raucous crowds.  So which is it supposed to be?  An unmitigated trainwreck?  Or a festival with some organizational snafus (which festival doesn't have a few of those?) that had their finger on the pulse of young America and gave them exactly what they wanted?  It can't be both.  The final episode even has a twist ending -- the "ordinary fans" that have been interviewed throughout the series, presumably (we assume) to testify to the horribleness of the festival, all declare that they had the times of their lives despite it all.    

The ponderous array of mixed messages even forces me to defend Korn and Limp Bizkit -- two of the most intolerable bands of all time.  Korn's Jonathan Davis and Limp Bizkit's Fred Durst whip the audience into a manic frenzy and set off mosh pits for the ages.  Despite the vague mentions of violence and danger in regard to their on-stage behaviour and the reactions of the crowds, they were absolutely just doing their jobs by trying to give the best performances possible.  Limp Bizkit's manager makes precisely this point as well.  At various points, people in the documentary try to blame the singers, their fans, and the supposed unruliness of the nu-metal genre for certain uncomfortable moments of the festival.  For decades before and after Woodstock '99, there have been hard rock and metal festivals where the fans moshed violently but didn't try to tear apart the sound tower.  Blaming the genre is silly when there are so many organizational shortcomings from this festival staring you in the face.   

They had gotten lucky with Woodstock '94.  It was feted as a major cultural event, and key sets were replayed on PPV and music stations.  At the time, reports in the British music press were incredulous.  How were they not adequately prepared for the possibility of rain?  The Brits believed that the American organizers had been to Glastonbury and understood how to organize a festival of this size.  They didn't.  The British mags credited the American fans for being cheery and compliant despite the festival grounds turning into a giant mud pit.  Had this happened at Glastonbury, they wrote, there would have been a riot.    

Lee Rosenblatt, credited as the assistant site manager of the festival, consistently comes across as the voice of reason, warning the higher ups about potential disasters only to get shouted down each time.  MTV presenter Ananda Lewis is another crucial voice who speaks forcefully and eloquently about her experiences at the festival.  

The most interesting character in the whole drama is Michael Lang, for he symbolizes the slow transformation of the dewy eyed 60's flower power kids, first into the suburban Reagan voters of the 80's, and then into the out of touch gatekeepers of the culture in the mid and late-90's.  Yes, his work on the original Woodstock makes him a legend.  But his assumption that kids in the 90's were longing for a Woodstock of their own so that they could replicate the experiences of their parents is staggeringly wrong.  The boomer generation's iron grip on everything canonical in music was fading throughout the 90's, and their stubborn assertion that the best music was made in the 60's and 70's was no longer tolerated.  In my opinion, the kids in '99 were rebelling against the peace and love festival that they never wanted in the first place.  The fact that they were being price gouged while baking on an airfield tarmac was the fuel on the fire. Lang completely lives up to his OK boomer form by being completely oblivious to all this in '99 and today (he passed away a few months ago, shortly after filming the series).  

In my view, Lang was well aware of the problems at the festival.  He knew that contracting food vendor responsibilities to outside parties left the pricing completely out of his control.  He knew that using untrained security forces was potentially reckless.  The idealist hippie in him was convinced that it would all work out in the end.  The capitalist scumbag in him knew that without cutting corners, the festival couldn't maximize its earning potential. Were these two sides of his personality in equal and enduring conflict?  Or had he fully turned to the dark side and thought his counterculture cred would be enough to pull the wool over the doubters' eyes while he walked off with millions more in profit?  It's hard to say.