Message to Love: The Isle of Wight Festival

This film was released only a few years ago, constructed from footage almost three decades old. One wonders why it had never seen the light of day before. "Message to Love" is an instant classic, a rock documentary that deserves to sit up on the same mantle as "Woodstock", "Monterrey Pop" and "Gimme Shelter". The Isle of Wight Festival in August of 1970 was the last of its kind, an event that was supposed to be an English Woodstock but descended into utter chaos as the Aquarian hippie ideal knocked heads with the emerging juggernaut of a corporate music industry ready to mass-market a "product" to the growing legions of rock fans. But despite the hypocrisy, mismanagement and unruly behavior that director Murray Lerner ("When We Were Kings") so keenly observes, he does not lose sight of the fact that a lot of great music went down during those five days. With an amazingly eclectic lineup that has Miles Davis and Tiny Tim as its polar extremes, Lerner and his crew captured many memorable performances from both the icons of the 60s and the rising stars of the 70s. If your memory of rock festival flicks is limited to the good vibes of Monterrey or Woodstock, you'll likely be taken aback by the unrestrained belligerence that permeated the air at Wight. Rikki, the so-called "Master of Ceremonies" is the lightning rod here, as he both patronizes and berates the hordes who have descended on the festival site. It turns out that some 600,000 fans have reached the island by ferry but only a fraction of those have any intention of buying a ticket. A tent city called "Desolation Row" sprouts up on a nearby hillside and is populated by folks who are determined to get a closer view at no charge. This tension is reflected in the selection of onstage peformances, like the Who (very much in their prime) ripping through an incediary "Young Man Blues" and the Doors' sinister versions of "When the Music's Over" and "The End". The Isle of Wight has long been notable for being the last performances of both Jim Morrison (he would be gone within a year) and Jimi Hendrix, who died less than three weeks later. Hendrix's appearance here only adds to his already large legacy--his music sounds as revolutionary as ever as he wails away on three songs with the Band of Gypsies, including an otherworldly "Voodoo Chile". "Message to Love" also opens a window onto the growing compartmentilization of rock, with three genres taking root at the start of the 70s. Hard rock (Ten Years After, Free, Rory Gallagher), singer-songwriters (Joni Mitchell, Leonard Cohen, Kris Kristofferson) and progressive rock (the Moody Blues, Jethro Tull and the audacious debut of Emerson, Lake and Palmer)are all competing for their slice of an increasingly large pie. With Rikki and the other promoters dubiously claiming that no other bands will take the stage without being paid in full with cash (in hopes of getting potential gatecrashers to pay up) the musicians are caught in an uneasy position. Trying to show they are "of the people" while knowing full well they are not going through life playing for free, it makes for some of the most interesting stage patter on record. Lerner lets the fans have their say as well, including one who notes that the bands are becoming "plastic gods" while another vividly describes the festival as a "feudal court scene"--with the stars as royalty, the groupies as the courtiers and the audience as the serfs. He may have gone one step farther and noted the moat-like double fencing with a dog-patrolled no-man's-land in between (actually closer in design to the former Berlin Wall) that serves to hopefully keep out the Desolation Row "barbarians". But as one of the promoter's people notes, in the end it doesn't matter if the music's good. This is true enough as the film closes with the Doors, Hendrix and the Who being edited in for one more song each. An uneasy truce is reached but when Rikki flashes a double peace sign at the crowd he only succeeds in looking like Richard Nixon. An era has passed before our eyes as the rose-colored glow of the 60s counterculture is smudged by the inevitable rise of the mass-consumer pop marketplace.

For fans of the musical acts that performed at this one of a kind concert, Isle of Wight is a must-see look. The interview sections are not of the high quality of those of Woodstock where you might have taken away something from what was being said. Here it's mostly a lot of ultra-hippie types (one who apparently gave his 3 year old son acid and pot), as well as some British fellows who run the concert. These interviews are OK enough on their own, and maybe the biggest liability from Lerner on this end as well as the music is in the editing. It's only a 2 hour film, which regrettably (like Monterrey Pop) is way too short in viewing such a monumental moment (and fleeting one like Altamont) in such a short running time. Still, almost every musical act is worth checking out in their limited time frame, and a little extra sadness comes along in seeing that a few of these people didn't live long after the concert ended. Some of the memorable acts include the Doors (all too brief of course), Jimi Hendrix (ditto), the Who, Miles Davis (in different form from his 50's days), Ten Years After, the Moody Blues, and Free.

More so than the Altamont debacle, the Isle of Wight Festival was the end of an era. Morrison and Hendrix would soon be gone, and the impracticalities of mass concerts like this is shown in all the turmoil that occurred here. This is a documentary movie with terrific musical numbers in a wild mix, from Leonard Cohen to Ten Years After, from John Sebastian to the Who, from Tiny Tim to Miles Davis to Taste. The most revealing glimpse into the future is the progressive rock juggernaut taking sail, with Emerson Lake and Palmer a million miles away from Joni Mitchell-type hippiedom. The invasion of the stage by a man during Joni's set serves to contrast the "do your own thing" attitude with the "let's tighten up security and make some money" realities which would become the norm soon enough. There's a middle ground here which is energizing. Certainly this is no Woodstock '99, which was simply a horrible evil place with no redeeming qualities.

First off, every rock fan must see this film. Other reviewers have touched on the important highlights. What strikes me, here in 2006, is that the film should also be seen by everyone attending the current U. N. conference in NYC. It is the perfect model of the eternal love/hate struggle between the entitled moral front and it's financial base. The promoters of this event seem earnest in their wish to put on a show for the the kids and ultimately have to get in bed with the financial world in order to do it. Otherwise, there would be no Happening. The kids, however, seem to feel that the show should be "on the dole" as some sort of socialist entitlement. A fine idea, except for the fact that The Queen doesn't sponsor Rock concerts. For that, you need Capitalist pigs. Rikki, the most innocent of the promoters, rants on about how the business people "only care about bread man." But, why shouldn't they? They are business people, not rock fans, and are doing what they do to feed their families, stay out of bankruptcy and only incidentally provide Art to the masses. Rikki learns the hard way that the rewards of good intentions are often poxed with hate and misunderstandings. He stands on the stage trying to reason with an unreasonable mass of stoned kids, looking like a Mother trying to tell her infant children to "p... in the toilet." Of course, the kids don't understand and seem to want Rikki's blood. They view him as the mouthpiece of the Capitalist pigs, when all Riki is trying to do, is to pay for the year he spent putting The Happening together. This was not to be. Rikki & Company wound up in Bankruptcy(the reason that the film wasn't released for 27 years), abandoned by the very kids he wished to identify with and undoubtedly, converted from a good intended kid into a total Capitalist pig himself.

If Awareness and Tolerance were the goals of the sixties youth culture, then the Isle of Wight is a testament to the utter failure of that ideal. One can only hope that events of history are not lost on future generations. However, 36 years after 1970... just like 36 years before, Awareness and Tolerance still spring eternal/occasional and in 2006, the history books seem to be gathering more dust then ever. Maybe John Lennon should have sung "Imagine all the people, aware and accepting of the slings, arrows and virtues of both capitalism and socialism." But, that just doesn't roll off the lips as sweetly. Art can turn bitter without a hated, but essential financial plan, and vice versa. ...and the band played on.

I remember the ferry ride over, carrying bags of drugs. Not mine, but carrying for a friend. It might have been speed, but since I only smoked pot I had no interest in it-no brains either, apparently!

We went for the whole 5 days because I could and didn't know any better. The organizers handed out paper sleeping bags to a waiting throng on the day we arrived. We slept out-side the gates - 20 ft. away - and ran for a decent position when the gates opened the next morning.

I don't remember eating or defecating, or very much of the music, but I have photos so I know I was there! I do remember people throwing glass pop bottles over the heads of those in front for some unknown reason, and even in my altered star realized they were idiots.

John Sebastien - Lovin' Spoonful - entertained the crowd acoustically for two hours because of some band not showing or technical reasons, I forget which, of course.

We walked up the Afton Downs hill and looked out over the English Channel. We saw people hundreds of feet below playing in the cold!! water. With a film crew shooting them. It looked forced. We also saw people fall from the top and bounce, slide and fall down the chalk cliffs. I've no idea what happened to them.

At the end, on Sunday, hundreds of thousands of people started the trek to the ferries. There may have been buses to Cowes, but we heard it was faster to walk the 4.5 mi. To Yarmouth and that's what we did.

I hope I'm in the movie, I was so much older then. I'm younger than that, now :-)