Fyre
Directed by Chris Smith
- documentary
The story
He promised supermodels and yachts, but delivered tents and cheese sandwiches. How one man engineered a music festival disaster.
What it’s like
Crisp, talking-head interviews sit against a torrent of glossy promotional footage: sun-drenched Bahamian beaches, turquoise water, models posed on yachts, all shot with the saturated gloss of a luxury ad. Then the film cuts to the grey, rain-soaked reality of half-built shelters, soggy tents and wilted cheese sandwiches, documented with the restless handheld immediacy of observational work. The sound design leans on sly, slightly ominous pop cues and the flat hum of ringing phones and scrolling feeds, while the editing rhythm alternates between brisk, mounting momentum and sudden, deadpan stillness. The mood is giddy-turning-sour: a gradual dawning of unease, mixed with wry amusement at people's self-deception. Its intensity is low in physical terms, with no violence or gore, though the cumulative sense of financial ruin, broken promises and people stranded in a dangerous situation carries real tension. Expect some mild profanity and frank talk about money. It suits a late-night watch with friends, or anyone curious about how hype gets manufactured. For viewers who enjoy sharp, skeptical documentaries about grift, hubris and the collapse of a carefully staged illusion.
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