Film Review – Fyre: The Greatest Party That Never Happened – 7/10

‘I got to his office, fully prepared to suck his dick…’

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The infamous Fyre festival had aspirations of being the Woodstock of the 21st century. Instead, it became a laughing stock.

Billy McFarland had a dream. Initially, his dream was to sell exclusive, metal credit cards to rich douchebags in New York. But that wasn’t enough for Billy. He needed something more. And what he needed most of all was a doomed music festival in the Bahamas that cost millions of dollars and was also co-founded by Ja Rule. I think it’s safe to say that as a (Ja) rule, if a project comes with the caveat ‘co-founded by Ja Rule’, it is not an enterprise to throw all your money at. Alas, lots of investors promptly did just that, despite the obvious failings of literally everyone involved.

The Greatest Party That Never Happened is the latest Netflix production that has taken the world by storm. It is debatable whether this is because it is a brilliant and searing documentary or because it shines a light on a ridiculous elite in a way that allows the 99% to feel deliciously smug and warm for a while before we go back to the grey factory to make the grey sludge. Either way, there is no doubting that Fyre is entertaining.

The doc throws up some interesting characters. Aside from those already mentioned we have the logistics guy who is also a yoga instructor (obviously), the ageing benefactor who is apparently willing to suck a guy’s dick in order to secure a delivery of bottled water and… Blink 182. The latter of which don’t actually feature but do have the good sense to pull out of the whole damn thing early doors before their sterling reputation became too tainted.

Ultimately, if you take away the schadenfreude, there perhaps isn’t too much of substance left in The Greatest Party That Never Happened, but still… that goddamn misery just tastes so frickin’ sweet.