Veteran music video director Julien Temple’s Glastonbury could’ve been an amazing concert film, with almost 40 years’ worth of performances from Britain’s foremost music festival to cull from. It could’ve been the definitive exploration of the event’s tangled history, from its origin as a free folk music show to its modern-day, corporate-infused incarnation. It also could’ve focused on the festival’s love / hate ties to its eponymous home, the polar opposite of the raucous event and something of a religious flash point.
Instead of choosing one path, however, Temple’s film follows all three (plus a few more), none conclusively or to great satisfaction for those not well-versed in the festival’s history or cultural impact. That being said Glastonbury is in and of itself an exhausting experience, a whirlwind two-hour-plus look-and-feel which picks at the surface of a truly unique happening, offering those who haven’t been (or those who have and wish to reminisce without setting up shop in a tepee for a week or so) a window into the sprawling annual event over the better part of its existence.
Spending equal amounts of running time with festival founder Michael Eavis (a farmer who just wanted to make good use of his land), performances by the likes of David Bowie, Nick Cave, Joe Strummer, the Velvet Underground, James Brown, and many more, and scads of indignant locals, festival goers, and staff (including a Little Britain-esque father-and-sons team of sanitation workers), the film touches on a number of critical moments for the event and ultimately weaves a loose narrative out of the changes it has undergone since its inception in 1970. Eavis’ sometimes puritanical views offer an interesting contrast to the culture he helped foster, and he proves a fascinating subject when Temple allows him time to ruminate on everything about Glastonbury from early financial contributions from Winston Churchill’s daughter to the violent stand-offs between “travelers” (convoys of wandering souls who began populating Glastonbury after being turned away from Stonehenge) and festival security and other patrons.
Temple makes some curious choices with Glastonbury, including the absence of fonts for any on-screen note-worthies. While this isn’t a problem for the more contemporary musical acts, rare footage of some older (in some cases forgotten) performers will be lost on audiences not fairly well-versed in ‘60s and ‘70s music culture (to say nothing of the bearded Eavis himself, who in a cheeky bit is told by an ignorant set of fans that the festival has lost much of its luster). It could be Temple hoped to maintain a sense of intimacy by foregoing documentary norms, and the film does consistently move to its own rhythm, but less-patient audiences might be turned off by the film’s free-form nature (which itself attempts approximating the festival’s own “anything goes” demeanor).
Glastonbury could’ve benefited from a little judicial cutting and a carrot or two for more traditional audiences (confusion over some of Temple’s narrative choices was palpable during the screening attended). It still offers a plethora of wonderful footage from many of the festival’s different incarnations and some knock-out musical performances (whittled from a reported 50,000+ minutes). Concert film and cultural doc fans will find it a sure bet, and with a little fortitude others will be drawn in as well.
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