Released earlier this month on Netflix, Fyre recounts the story of a music festival marketed to the upper strata of society. Slickly promoted with the use of supermodels perched upon a rented yacht and reclining upon idyllic tropical sands in the Bahamas, the event generated much interest. Unfortunately for attendees, what transpired was poorly planned, hopelessly disorganized, and almost entirely devoid of musical talent, with most of the accommodation consisting not of custom-made luxury cabins, but leftover hurricane relief tents.
How did things go so badly wrong? Enter the N type confidence trickster whose overpromising and wildly optimistic attitude leads both himself and his staff into hot water. A cult of veneration around Billy McFarland, upon whom praise was heaped for supposed visionary ideas and tech savvy, sets up the bubble in which matters could degenerate. Accompanied by boisterous N type rapper Ja Rule, the pair promote their concept of a deluxe musical festival in idyllic surroundings.
A few early staffers tried to bring a sense of practicality by compromising the unrealistic elements of Fyre's plans. Others pled for the event to be delayed. They are dismissed, and the daunting task of housing, feeding, entertaining and luxuriating thousands of affluent people for days is left to yes-men and the unqualified. A moment of absurd jargon sticks in mind, wherein a fellow is fired for pouring the cold water of realism over this 'solutions-orientated company'.
The later portions of the film take a tragic turn; local Bahamians going unpaid for work building and servicing the festival site; attendees greeted by a shambles; and the illusions and crooked deceptions of an N type crashing against reality. Fyre concludes with a damning coda upon the unrealistic dreams and stark dishonesty of unbridled, unhealthy narcissism, and the damages resulting from such indulgent fantasies. One can also infer criticism of modern society, wherein gloss and image is celebrated while things of substance go ignored.