MESSAGE TO LOVE: THE ISLE OF WIGHT FESTIVAL
A film review by Steve Rhodes
Copyright 1997 Steve Rhodes
RATING (0 TO ****): ***
In 1970, a year after WOODSTOCK, 600,000 rock fans ventured by boat to the remote Isle of Wight off the southern coast of England. They went to see what was called the last great music festival.
MESSAGE TO LOVE: THE ISLE OF WIGHT FESTIVAL, is a new documentary about the festival that works both as a concert film and as a series of mini-dramas. Since only 60,000 paid, will the promoters go broke? Will the festival's barricades fall? Is there going to be a riot? Which drugged-out anarchist from the audience will demand to be heard next?
Although both parts of the film are fascinating, I was more energized by the music than interested in the festival's logistics and nightmares. Since I was at grad school in Berkeley at the time, the music possessed images of dreamy nostalgia for me. Although the artists were top-notch, their performances at The Isle of Wight Festival were generally subpar. Jim Morrison of The Doors, for example, gives a lethargic rendition of "When the Music's Over" and of "The End." Even if the movie is no WOODSTOCK, it still possesses a charm all its own. With performances by The Doors, The Who, Miles Davis, Donovan, Jimi Hendrix, Kris Kristofferson, Joni Mitchell, and, drum roll, Tiny Tim, MESSAGE TO LOVE would be a hard film to dislike.
Although the camera spends too much time concentrating on the performers midriffs and other close-ups, the music's power dominates. The sound track's quality is quite good, which might not be expected given the age of the film stock.
Director Murray Lerner's favorite part seems to be the back stage melodrama, which manages to work its way on stage more than once. One drugged-out hippie grabs the microphone to complain that, "This festival business is becoming a psychedelic concentration camp." Lerner manages to find a single individual, "The Commodore," to counterbalance the blather of the festival's fringe elements with his own balderdash. "It is not just hippie fun," he explains. "Behind it is Black Power and behind it is Communism." Other than Jim Hendrix, I did not see a single black at the festival, which made The Commodore's charges all the more bizarre.
The performers are disgusted with the promoters' inability to control the crowds and to handle the finances. Tiny Tim demands to be paid in cash before going on stage to sing a patriotic British anthem. And Kris Kristofferson finally loses it and walks out while singing "Me and Bobby McGee."
The general festival goers' complaints were that the artists should perform for free and the attendees should not have to pay the small fee of three pounds for a five day festival. "I'm not going to be forced to give a free concert -- that doesn't make any sense," complains Joni Mitchell.
Most of the audience was so stoned that their thoughts were gibberish. "Commercial music is co-opting our vegetables," carped one gatecrasher. A young man and his six-year-old provide easily the saddest scene in the picture. The man explains how his son smokes dope with him, but it's all right since "he doesn't inhale." He brags that his son has also dropped some acid, and the father goes on to extol the virtues of drugs.
The show ends as it began with a big transvestite called "The Baroness." As the show draws to a close he gives what could be termed the motto of the festival crowd. "Live and let live," The Baroness says. "You worried? I'm not."
MESSAGE TO LOVE: THE ISLE OF WIGHT FESTIVAL runs 2:10. It is rated R for full frontal female nudity, drug usage, and profanity. Given the pro-drug message expounded by some in the film, I would want to talk to my teenagers before I let them see the film or, better yet, take them if they wanted to go. I enjoyed the music and was fascinated by the outrageous beliefs of the crowd so I give the documentary a thumbs up and ***.
**** = A must see film. *** = Excellent show. Look for it. ** = Average movie. Kind of enjoyable. * = Poor show. Don't waste your money. 0 = Totally and painfully unbearable picture.
REVIEW WRITTEN ON: March 6, 1997
Opinions expressed are mine and not meant to reflect my employer's.
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