On The 50th Anniversary Of The Summer Of Love-“The Monterey Pops Festival” (1968) –A Different View
DVD Review
By Film Editor Sandy Salmon
The Monterey Pops Festival-1967, starring Janis Joplin, Jefferson Airplane, The Mamas and the Papas, Ravi Shankar, and the usual suspects from the 1960s acid rock circuit on the West Coast, produced by D.A. Pennebaker, 1968
Those of you who are regular readers in this space (or of the on-line edition of the American Film Gazette) may be surprised that I am reviewing a film, in this case the 1968 documentary of the first Monterey Pops Festival, when my Associate editor Alden Riley has already recently done so. And by his, and my, lights a decent job. The reason I am posting a review is due to a “controversy” or rather a few sentences at the start of Alden’s review where he had complained that he had been force-marched into the review by me as some kind of punishment for a remark that he had made to me after reading a review of my take on the 2015 biopic Janis Joplin: Little Girl Blues. He mentioned in passing that he had never heard of Janis, never heard her sing. I suggested to him that he might benefit from reviewing this documentary where one of the acts featured would by Janis Joplin and her band, Big Brother and the Holding Company doing her now classic Ball and Chain blues cover. That concert was a breakthrough for her (and several other iconic 1960s rock and roll figures like Jimi Hendrix and soulful Otis Redding) which occurred in June of 1967 right at the heart of the Summer of Love of which we are now commemorating the 50th anniversary. I had originally intended to do the review myself as part of a series of pieces and sketches of that duel 50th anniversary. But I will admit that he grudgingly decided to perform the service which I asked him.
Maybe I had better go back a bit before discussing my views of the documentary and of the scene out in the West Coast at that critical juncture of the emerging “youth nation” 1960s counter-cultural explosion. A while back the now retired film editor in this space, Sam Lowell, who will figure in this “controversy” later asked me as an old friend and fellow critic of his in the old days at the hard copy version of the American Film Gazette to take over the day to day film reviewing at this site. I agreed stipulating that I would bring in an associate editor who would in the not too distant future take over the reins as my own retirement was coming up. I selected young and hungry Alden Riley whose work I knew from Current Times on recommendation from his editor there also an old friend of mine from Gazette days. I believe I have made a right choice in that regard.
One of the virtues of this site (and of the Gazette from the narrower cinematic end) is that it has attempted to under Pete Markin’s guidance act as something of a “memory” for all kind of social, political and cultural occurrences in American history, and to a lesser extend internationally. In the film area that has meant that everything is up for grabs from the recent latest version of Wonder Woman back to the “silent” era. No rule had been set down by Sam Lowell about what could be reviewed. If you look at the archives you will see that the eclectic Lowell has review everything from 1930s noir to the Tom Cruise-etched Mission Impossible series. I have been in my long career the same way and the expectation on this site is that a whole range of material would be covered. Additionally special events, events like the 50th anniversary of the Summer of Love which maybe was not some world-historical event in itself but which definitely represented the flavor of a turbulent part of the history of America within memory (some memories anyway) should, and do, receive extra attention. It was under that premise, as well as broadening Alden’s reach, that I suggested the review. But enough of that internal politics stuff because while Alden did a crackerjack job of reviewing the documentary I want to expand on a few things he mentioned, and a few things he didn’t since I am old enough to have remembered most of the actors (if not like Sam Lowell having been out on the West Coast at that time).
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Nobody of course is required in the film criticism business to have a knowledge of its history, of the definitive films and the break-through technological events which certain directors, producers and other film technician have worked on although it helps. For example when I reviewed Kirk Douglas’ classic big screen Technicolor version of Spartacus I did not have to mention that the film represented the first thaw in the hard-core red scare Cold War freeze that Hollywood had willingly gone along with when it listed “black-listed” Hollywood Ten writers who had been screwed over back in the 1940s for supposed Communist affiliations like they were Uncle Joe Stalin’s toadies or something. Maybe that was why the film turned out so well. I think so anyway. Alden mentioned in his Monterey Pops review that director D.A. Pennebaker’s work seems crude by today’s high-tech standards. And it was but I believe he missed the point that D.A. was on the cutting edge of cinema verite and some of the filming was consciously done at that level.
That is only a minor sin. What I do not understand is Alden’s short seemingly in passing reference to the performances over those three days which is really the heart of the documentary. I would argue that the shots of the audience was so much filler to give some flesh to who was attracted to the event and why. Moreover this concert was a preliminary wide appeal event in what had been emerging over the previous several years of a different kind of rock-drug connected “acid rock” for lack of a better name which created a very different sound than had been current in the wake of the Beatles/Stones-led British invasion (those groups would be sucked into the acid rock maelstrom as well).
The sound is a return to primitive embryonic times which many in that time, usually but not always under the influence of drugs, were seeking as a whole slew of old taboos were tumbling down. Ms. Joplin’s break-out performance with her band Big Brother and the Holding Company on the old blues classic Piece Of My Heart complete with shouts, screams, wah-wahs and whatnot spoke to those primitive urgings. I do agree with Alden that such deep feelings had to have taken a toll if she had consumed that much energy on one song. I don’t know how she had gotten through a full set never mind a whole concert but maybe the drugs really did help keep her going. That is kind of the point. Such musical outbursts take much energy and no question drugs enhanced what the performers were trying to accomplish. Some of the music produced from that era like the Stones’ Their Satanic Majesties had not withstood the ravages of time (I don’t believe a have heard one cut from that album as part of their playlist for a long, long maybe since back in the day.) But Janis’ Ball and Chain, Piece of My Heart, and Bobby McGee still kick out the jams.
I suppose it is hard to tell somebody not from that generation, our vaunted Generation of ’68, about what Alden claimed I would call creative “rock and rock” when he could not believe his eyes as the Who leader smashed and Jimi Hendrix burned perfectly good guitars on stage. Rather than a retort here I will gather up Sam Lowell from his retirement and together we will discuss a litany of such creative actions on the 1960s stages. That will protect Alden from any two hour lecture from us that he may be standing in fear of coming down on his young head.
Finally maybe there is hope that Alden will grow into this job. Although as I have mentioned previously the audience shots were filler he hit the nail on the head when he mentioned that those close-up shots of the attendees, of the audience, of the mostly young audience in their best “hippie” garb looked very cool even now. Porkpie hats, old-time Victorian dresses, World War II G.I. surplus stuff like that. I also agree that when I watched the DVD most of the audience looked like they had done some serious weed or some drug before they got to the concert (probably there as well). Certainly I also wondered like he did about those young women then, women who looked very foxy indeed. I also wonder if anybody who watched the film today and who had been there then would be shocked by the footage of them in their “to be young was very heaven” days after an unsuccessful fight against the ravages of time. Alden won’t agree but the whole effect of the documentary had me thinking at the end that those were the days when men and women played rock and roll for keeps and everybody listened with baited breathe. Yes, indeed, we did.
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