USA documentary
1969
color 88 min.
Director: D.A. Pennebaker
CLV: $49.95 - available
           1 disc, catalog # CCPOP
The
Monterey International Pop Festival was as much a "coming out" party as a musical
event. After a twelve-year adolescence, rock music -- in the guise of a new
generation of musicians and their audience -- threw a three-day festival (June
16-18, 1967) celebrating their newly-recognized maturity.Acts with no
resemblance to the quartets in identical suits that had defined rock-and-roll
were suddenly introduced to the world: Big Brother & the Holding Company, Canned
Heat, and Country Joe and the Fish, all unknown outside of Los Angeles and San
Francisco; Jimi Hendrix, who had achieved stardom in London; The Who, a band that
was scarcely known in America; and Ravi Shankar, who was booked at the insistence
of the Beatles.
All of them, and others not seen in the film -- The Grateful
Dead, Quicksilver Messenger Service, and Mike Bloomfield's newly-formed Electric
Flag -- had their careers transformed by Monterey. Scott McKenzie, a longtime
friend of festival organizer John Phillips, reaped the most immediate rewards
with a new song, "San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)," written
on the eve of Monterey by Phillips, which became a Number One hit in the weeks
that followed. Janis Joplin and Big Brother got a recording contract coming right
out of the festival and became famous overnight -- drummer David Getz later
revealed that it was only after Monterey that they began to work on sounding
professional. Jimi Hendrix found stardom in the embers of his burning guitar, and
Pete Townshend achieved fame over the dead body of his guitar (the Stratocasters
were dropping like flies).
For other groups, Monterey was a crossroads. On the
second night, the Byrds played their first major concert in over a year, which
also marked the end of David Crosby's membership in the band. In a 1982
interview, bassist Chris Hillman remembered it as one of the group's finest shows
ever, but also recalled that Crosby infuriated the others by endorsing the use of
LSD from the stage. The next evening, Crosby took the stage and played a set with
Buffalo Springfield, marking his performing debut with Stephen Stills (but not
Neil Young, who had left Springfield's lineup).
For others, film and festival
alike were a moment of glory. South African-born trumpeter Hugh Masekela's
soaring rendition of "Bajabula Bonke" ("Healing Song"), written by his then-wife
Miriam Makeba, was immortalized amid a shimmering, billowing light show. Canned
Heat's appearance was a rare instance of fulfillment in their tragic history --
Alan Wilson and Henry Vestine came out of Monterey hailed by Down Beat
magazine as "possibly the best two-guitar team in the nation." Three years later,
Wilson was found dead of unknown causes at age twenty-seven, outside the home of
lead singer Bob Hite; and Hite himself collapsed and died following a show in
1981, at age thirty-six.
Any film that condenses a 72-hour event (and 85,000
feet of film) into 78 minutes can only deal with the essentials of its subject.
"Shoot what catches your eye -- what you see as the spirit of the festival," D.
A. Pennebaker instructed his seven two-man film crews.
Thus, Jimi Hendrix's
full set included "Purple Haze," "Like a Rolling Stone," and "The Wind Cries
Mary," but his guitar aflame in the night mattered more than the music. The
Jefferson Airplane's spot revealed more about the group's internal dynamics than
any interview -- the tight close-up of Grace Slick throughout "Today," a song
written and sung by Marty Balin, was another sign of Balin's declining role in
the group he founded. And Otis Redding moved into the bright stage lights so much
that most of his footage was overexposed -- rather than junk it, Pennebaker used
it to capture the singer's vibrancy and ebullience.
Monterey Pop was not
the first great concert movie (The T.A.M.I. Show from 1964 has that
honor), but it was the first one produced with a good sound system. The festival
was recorded from the stage on eight-track equipment (the Beatles' Sergeant
Pepper album, released only two weeks earlier, had been done in four-track), with
each crew recording its own sound on the spot. The results were as vivid
sonically as visually.
Despite the organizers' enthusiasm, the First Annual
Monterey International Pop Festival was also the last. The Summer of Love faded
into autumn, and the sixties passed, tragically taking with it the talents of
Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Alan Wilson, Mama Cass Elliot and Otis Redding. But
the legacy of Monterey and all who performed there lives on over 20 years later,
immortalized in D. A. Pennebaker's psychedelic splash of sound and color called
Monterey Pop.
-- BRUCE EDER* * * * *
A film about California ...
Sitting with Lou Adler and John Phillips, Lou in his ancient straw planters hat,
John dressed as outrageously as he could imagine, talking about how to film the
festival ... but all the while looking out across the hills of Los Angeles, I was
thinking to myself, this is going to be a film about California. And then when
the festival began I found out what that meant. Lou and John, in their fantasy
wisdom, had put together such a scene of music and camaraderie, that forever
after it will be my memory of California. And, as well as their friendship, I
will always value what they taught me about filmmaking.
-- D. A.
PENNEBAKER
Credits
Film by: D. A. Pennebaker
Festival Producers:
John Phillips, Lou Adler
Photography: D. A. Pennebaker, Barry Feinstein,
Richard Leacock, Albert Maysles, Roger Murphy, Nicholas Proferes
Additional
Photography: Bob Neuwirth, Tim Cunningham, Baird Hersey, Robert Leacock, John
Maddox, Nina Schulman, Peter Pilafian, Robert Van Dyke, Brice Marden, James
Desmond
Stage Lighting: Chip Monck
Light Show: Headlights
Concert
Recordings: Wally Heider
Editor: Nina Schulman
Unit Manager: Peter
Hansen
Transfer
This edition of Monterey Pop was transferred
from a print of the film provided by director D. A. Pennebaker. The soundtrack
was mastered from a 35 mm two-track stereo magnetic track.