Even though it’s a
documentary about the quintessential ’60s event, Woodstock is among the essential movies of the ’70s. As endless
historians have noted, the movie captures a moment that had already slipped
into history by the time the film was released, since the slaying at a
notorious Rolling Stones concert in Altamont effectively snuffed the
peace-and-love dream exemplified by ’60s music festivals. The poignant
experience of beholding a utopian vision that was destined to remain unrealized
lends bittersweet gravitas to Woodstock.
However, the movie would have been remarkable under any circumstances. Given
tremendous access to the preparation and execution of the Woodstock Music &
Art Fair, filmmaker Michael Wadleigh and his crew captured the gradual birth of
the so-called “Woodstock Nation.”
Sprawling over three hours and, thanks to
tricky split-screen editing, sometimes sprawling across three different frames,
the movie follows an approach that’s simultaneously phantasmagoric and
straightforward. Simple scenes, like lyrical vignettes of hippies bathing in
ponds, are presented as unvarnished reportage, while the most incendiary music
performances, like the Who’s speaker-blasting set, get the full visual-assault
treatment. Wadleigh displays remarkable sensitivity toward the material, treating
each sequence in just the right way, so viewers can savor the illusion of being
at the festival. Plus, by condensing three days into three hours, the movie
becomes much more than just a filmed concert—it’s a freewheeling dissertation
on the way a generation hoped to change the world for the better. For instance,
when promoters finally acknowledge the obvious by starting, “It’s a free
concert from now on,” the film cuts to kids pushing down chain-link fences and
storming the grassy hills of the festival area. Seeing this moment is like
watching flower children topple the divisive us-and-them structures of the
Establishment.
Great personalities populate the movie, from mellow, vest-loving
promoter Michael Lang to toothless hippie hero Wavy Gravy, and the
unforgettable musical moments are countless. A “scared shitless” Crosby, Stills
and Nash playing their first-ever concert. Jimi Hendrix serenading an
early-morning crowd with his wailing take on “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Bands like
Canned Heat, Santana, and Ten Years After jamming as if their survival depends
on finding the right groove. It’s all amazing, and it’s all right there,
captured by Wadleigh’s team and assembled by an editing crew that included a
young Martin Scorsese. Few documentaries have captured significant historical
events as completely and with such an appropriate aesthetic approach.
Therefore, as if being the most important rock movie ever made wasn’t enough, Woodstock is also, arguably, the
definitive look at ’60s counterculture, in all of its gloriously grubby excess.
Woodstock:
OUTTA SIGHT
3 comments:
For the record, in interviews with Albert Maysles before he died, he punctured some of the mythology of the concert, riding against the perception of Woodstock and the Stones tour strictly framing the summer of love and attesting that there actually were incidents of violence dealt with at Woodstock, despite what's claimed at the end of the film. I'm a pretty firm believer of "print the legend", but such things must always be taken with a grain of salt. Within every large story are millions of small stories muddying everything up.
My favorite is the shot of that young hippie girl losing her shit because there was no escape from the crush of 400,000 human beings. What a pressure cooker that must have been.
I saw this at its 1979 re-release. The theater was filled with Gen-X teenagers too young to have a clear memory of the groovy '60s. It had been forgotten that folk music was as important in the groovy hippie scene as rock. The kids were bemused, baffled when the show started with Richie Havens and Joan Baez. What was this? They'd come expecting "ROCK-'N'-ROLL!!"
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