On Saturday, my crew screened Wattstax, the definitive documentary of the legendary 1972 music festival in the Watts neighborhood of Los Angeles. The festival commemorated 7 years of rebuilding from the Watts riots.

In the doc, Ted Lange, who played Isaac on the Love Boat is interviewed. He says that “up until the point that we had a riot, everybody said: ‘Those Suckas are alright.’” The consensus was that as bad as the riots were for the physical environment of Watts, they at least marked a real and sincere anger within the people that lived there. As one Chinese man said today in an interview about separatist violence in Western China, “where there is oppression, there will be resistance.”

The performances are brilliant. But that is not what made this movie so unforgettable. I think the hook is that more than any blacksploitation flick or any sit com, this document draws you in to the spirit of the times. The longer the doc goes on, the closer you feel to the people in it and the pain, and hope they are living; the easier it becomes to imagine yourself wearing a tassels, bells, a long afro, and maybe even a pink short suit, with knee-high, white, vinyl boots.

My mom, saw the film. We talked about it. She said it reminded her of a more innocent time. She was thinking specifically of the moment in the film when, after causing a rush of dance energy that brought the crowd to the middle of the stadium field, Rufus Thomas (of “Funky Chicken” fame) has to ask all the festival goers to leave go back into the stands. They do. Nicely. Could that happen today?

The rapport between the audience and the artist was so deep. The laughter, the knowing head knods, the call and response reminded one of a family gathering. This is especially true when Isaac Hayes takes the stage as the closing act. He leads the crowd through the chorus shouts of “Theme from Shaft.”
Everyone in the room where I was watching the film yelled out in accord. “Watch your mouth..” But we knew he was “just talkin’ bout Shaft.”

The next day, Isaac passed away. Oh dolce vita is short. RIP sir Isaac.

In this clip the Barkays epitomize the openness and progressiveness of the times. Their hair, their clothes, and their style of funk was on the cusp of dawning Aquarian age: