Whatever the mention of Woodstock conjures up in your mind it's probably represented in this ‘99-inspired show by Tom Foreman Productions, written, directed and produced by Tom Foreman. Premiering at Underbelly Cowgate it celebrates the event’s 25th anniversary in a high-energy solo performance by Max Beken.
Awash with physicality, psychedelic drug sequences, raves and rages
Approximately 220,000 young music lovers swarmed to the Griffiss Air Force Base in Rome, New York, over four days in July, 1999. Some were probably not so young, if they were hoping to relive the thrill of attending the original festival thirty years earlier. But the site quickly transformed from a paradise of pleasure steeped in peace and love to a mire of mayhem and misogyny as assaults, riots and arson swamped the event.
Hence, Foreman is not short of material to weave into Out of Woodstock; one man’s substance-fuelled odyssey. It gives Beken ample room to capture the high and lows of the event. Already dealing with a break-up from his girlfriend, Guy is encumbered by his parents making him responsible for the safety of his under-age sister. Allowing her to attend was a mistake from the outset and goes badly wrong, leading to frantic phone calls with the family, riddled with emotional stress, guilt and acrimony.
The electronic music pumps out before Beken makes his entrance. Archival recordings of the live acts are interspersed throughout the narrative. There's much excitement about Limp Bizkit; he and his mates are big fans, but it’s not long before the drug-fuelled frenzies and camping out strain even long-term friendships that neither Jamiroquai, Metallica, nor any of the others can heal. Meanwhile, Singer Dave Matthews comments on the “abundance of titties” which the lads are also enjoying. While some girls no doubt revelled in getting ‘em out, no doubt others felt under pressure to join in. Scenes escalate and we get a take on the contemporary crisis of masculinity in what becomes a fast-paced and volatile psychodrama that questions the extent to which we are willing to excuse boys being boys and men being Trumpian grabbers.
Beken’s performance is awash with physicality, psychedelic drug sequences, raves and rages against poor sanitation, rampant commercialism and overpriced food and water with spectacular lighting heightening the intensity. Yet he also has moments of nuanced introspection, questioning his place in the world and the life he has created.
There’s plenty to enjoy throughout this dynamic show and also much to reflect upon.
