Quinn XCII’s new album, “From Michigan with Love” was released at the end of Feb­ruary. | Flikr

Mar­keted as the greatest fes­tival the world has never seen, Fyre Music Fes­tival was sold to be a lux­u­rious expe­rience where attendees would dance to top musical per­for­mances, rave with famous socialites, and sleep in high-end villas, all on a private island in the Bahamas. Yet it all failed because of its creator, Billy McFarland. Netflix’s new doc­u­mentary “Fyre: The Greatest Party That Never Hap­pened” covers this fraud behind the scenes and its aftermath.

Director Chris Smith cap­tured a wide range of per­spec­tives in the doc­u­mentary. Employees, fes­tival goers, and Bahamian locals all shared how they were per­sonally affected during the process of cre­ating this event and how its reper­cus­sions still affect them today. A local Bahamian woman even shared how she still has not been paid for her labor, which has hurt her finan­cially and emo­tionally.

The back­ground research into McFarland’s past projects also pro­vided under­standing for why Fyre Fes­tival failed mis­erably. To better under­stand why McFarland scammed so many people, Smith took his audience back to when McFarland owned Mag­nises, selling “elite” credit cards that rewarded users with reduced concert ticket prices and invites to exclusive parties. No one actually received the ben­efits, and con­se­quently, McFarland accrued a stag­gering amount of debt from this enter­prise and was unable to pay it off. Knowing this was essential to real­izing McFarland’s dis­connect with reality.

Now to Fyre Fes­tival. McFarland still owes pay­ments for the Mag­nises scandal and he’s under­taking a new endeavor. Knowing what hap­pened with Mag­nesis, the festival’s outcome shouldn’t be shocking. The festival’s main purpose was to promote Fyre, a music booking app that made talent-booking easier for con­sumers. It even received endorsement from late ’90s rapper Ja Rule, adding to its legit­imacy.

However, the list of perks the fes­tival promised were just too nice to be real. Gourmet dining and $1,000 villas were included all within a two-week “trans­for­mative” expe­rience. Ticket costs ranged from around $500 to $1,500, excluding VIP packages, airfare, and accom­mo­da­tions. The line-up had top chart artists, like Tyga, Desi­igner, Migos, and Lil Yachty, and was adver­tised by a com­mercial of celebrity models par­tying on the Bahamas.

Unsur­pris­ingly, the revenue couldn’t cover the costs of the fes­tival, and the event turned into utter chaos. People fought for tents, mat­tresses and pillows, stealing sup­plies from one another in a con­cerning Lord of the Flies-esque turn of events.

The main per­spective Netflix lacked was from McFarland himself. There are no inter­views with McFarland; the only footage showing the business entre­preneur are shots taken during the making and the aftermath of Fyre Fes­tival. This absence can cause watchers to either feel intrigued or frus­trated. Inter­viewing McFarland would’ve pro­vided a greater scope of under­standing, yet with all the other sources, his voice probably wouldn’t have helped him gain much sym­pathy.

Despite the absurd ben­efits Fyre Fes­tival claimed to grant, these “promises” detri­men­tally affected anyone involved with the fes­tival. Netflix does a great job at exploring the back­ground of the fes­tival and its effects. The wide range of sources and behind-the-scenes footages strongly con­tex­tu­alized the festival’s con­se­quences. Though they didn’t interview him, the doc­u­mentary still pro­vides sig­nif­icant cov­erage on McFarland and explains with enough depth why Fyre Fes­tival never hap­pened.