Mrs Vache Folle and I went to see "Taking Woodstock" on Saturday. We found it sufficiently diverting to recommend it to people we like. We like Demetri Martin, and he was good in it as Elliot Tiber, the son of down on their luck Catskill moteliers who helped bring the Woodstock Festival to his town. I don't have any idea how accurate the movie was, but I don't really care. I was eleven years old at the time and read a little about it in LIFE magazine a few months later. It didn't signify for me since the sexual and cultural revolution, just as Sherman's army had a century earlier, bypassed my hometown altogether. I didn't find out about the revolution until I was in college.
Anyway, I don't have any special attachment to the idea of Woodstock as anything other than a music festival that was well attended. So I had no expectations for the movie and was content with a story that hung on the fringes of the event. The story treats the concert goers as pretty nice people, and I suppose they were since there weren't very many casualties.
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