crowd

The biggest news to come out of two film festivals this week stemmed from documentaries about tech moguls gone bad.

When Alex Gibney’s film production “Musk” premiered at the Venice Film Festival on Tuesday, it received a five-minute standing ovation, shouts of “thank you” from the audience and endless play across social media. The nearly four-hour production chronicles the rise of the world’s first trillionaire out of the dot-com boom, and lays bare the dangers that the Tesla and SpaceX chief executive now presents as a plutocrat with questionable judgment and unchecked power.

Closer to home, at the Telluride Film Festival, it was comedian Nathan Fielder (“The Rehearsal”) and Lance Oppenheim’s “You Can See Everything” that made breaking news. Their film features unfettered access to former Theranos Chief Executive Elizabeth Holmes in the weeks before she reported to federal prison to serve a sentence of 10 years and three months. She rode the early 2000s wave of venture-capitalism consumer-tech hype, defrauding investors and the public with a bogus new way to test blood. By 2014, she was the world’s youngest self-made female billionaire.

A couple of decades ago, films about Musk and Holmes probably would have framed the pair as forward-thinking entrepreneurs and architects of a new era. Today, the pitchforks are out, and who else better represents the hubris and greed of late-stage capitalism?

There’s plenty of buzz around both films ahead of their October releases, yet the richest man in the world is helping promote the “Musk” doc by incessantly posting about Gibney and his “hit” piece.

Musk’s X posts have referred to the filmmaker as a “horrible human” and a “bitter old man” and declared, “Dogs— is worth more respect.” Always looking for a conspiracy to explain away the perfectly explainable, he wrote that the film was a “psy op.” He included in the post an image of Gibney as a puppet of the Democratic Party and George Soros. Musk also offered Trumpian prose: “Gutless Gibney’s fatal flaw of fabricating a false film.”

“Musk” is due for a theatrical release in the U.S. on Oct. 16 followed by a streaming launch on HBO Max.

Musk’s attorney Alex Spiro is threatening a lawsuit. He sent a letter to the Gibney-led Jigsaw Productions accusing the filmmaker of misrepresenting facts about the mogul. Spiro says the filmmaker suggested that Musk used his Starlink satellites to bend the 2024 election in favor of his friend and ally Donald Trump.

“You are … on notice, before release, that the insinuation is false, that the material refuting it is public, and that you chose not to be told the rest,” Spiro wrote. Spiro claimed he contacted the production “multiple times” and “requested an opportunity to present the facts in the normal fact-checking process that is the hallmark of ethical journalism. You have refused to engage.”

Gibney says Musk declined to be interviewed for the film. In his absence, the documentarian created a digital avatar of the Tesla CEO and used statements pulled from decades worth of the entrepreneur’s interviews and public appearances. The film chronicles his childhood in South Africa and his time in Silicon Valley, and suggests that Musk’s genius is not as an inventor but as an investor. His talent, the film contends, is stock-pumping.

“Musk” also reportedly explores how the trillionaire had access to sensitive techno-surveillance data when he ran the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) under President Trump in 2025. Geoffrey Hinton , often referred to as the Godfather of AI, is interviewed in the film and explains why Musk’s potential access to the data is such a problem: “It’s fairly clear to me that Trump is hell-bent on corrupting the midterm elections,” Hinton says. “If you wanted to corrupt those midterm elections and you wanted to use AI, all you needed to do was get detailed information on U.S. citizens. And what DOGE did looked like just what you would do.”

Gibney in interviews about the film has warned that Musk’s widespread, unchecked power is “extremely dangerous to world democracy.”

“What I discovered was that the story of Musk was not [a] new tech story,” Gibney said in a news conference at the Venice Film Fest. “[It’s] really the story of an old wine in a new bottle. His story turns out to be the story of the confidence man, the stock pumper, his wealth and power comes from inflated stock, and so I had told that story before with Enron and with Elizabeth Holmes, and so it was a story that was oddly familiar to me.”

Gibney is renowned for taking on big money, corruption and anything else that reeks of injustice. He’s tackled Wall Street, big pharma, Scientology, Guantanamo, and even Theranos founder Holmes.

The new film about Holmes, “You Can See Everything,” offers a quirkier, up-close take on Holmes. Produced by A24 and set for an Oct. 16 theater release, it follows the disgraced CEO post-conviction, and she appears more than comfortable in front of the filmmakers and their cameras. Audiences at Telluride were surprised by the access she gave to the filmmakers, and that Holmes spoke openly about her plans to launch a biotech comeback and revive Theranos from her cell in a Texas prison camp.

Forget the celebrity glitz of high-profile film festivals. In these eat-the-rich times, it’s the dark side of wealth, fame and alleged genius that satiate audience appetites. Enter two new documentaries that feed the beast.

Folk singer Ray LaMontange was treated for heat-related dehydration after collapsing onstage during a weekend performance amid triple-digit heat in Nashville.

On Saturday, the 53-year-old toppled to the side while performing his popular track “Jolene” in front of a sold-out,crowd at Ryman Auditorium, according to recorded fan footage.

There were reports that LaMontagne had lost his place earlier in his set when performing “Hannah,” per Consequence. According to the National Weather Service, temperatures in the Nashville area reached a high of 101 degrees.

Later that night, LaMontagne’s management released a statement through his Instagram stories, sharing that the Grammy winner was in “good hands with local EMS” and that he was being treated for “heat-related dehydration.”

LaMontagne returned to the stage the following night, performing at the Louisville Palace in Kentucky, where he made no mention of the incident.

Last month, the Americana singer — best known for tracks “You Are the Best Thing” and “Hold You in My Arms” — had kicked off his 20th anniversary tour.

The tour is named after his 2004 debut album, “Trouble,” which is platinum certified in both the United States and United Kingdom; though the album reached only No. 164 on the Billboard 200 chart, it hit No. 5 on the U.K. Albums chart.

Known for his gruff vocals, LaMontagne first came to the scene in the early aughts as a timid troubadour. The New Hampshire-born, Utah-raised artist was once a former shoe factory worker from Maine whose singer-songwriter journey began when he woke up one morning to Stephen Stills’ “Treetop Flyer” on his clock radio.

All nine of LaMontagne’s albums — with the exception of his independently released 2024 LP, “Long Way Home” — have charted in the Billboard 200.

LaMontagne will continue on with his Trouble tour — which features special guest the Weather Station — through Oct. 3, closing out at New York City’s Beacon Theatre.

TELLURIDE, Colo. — The Telluride Film Festival has always enjoyed keeping a secret. Tucked away in the Colorado mountains with nary a red carpet or paparazzo in sight, the low-key film festival doesn’t announce its lineup until the day before opening and surprise additions have long been a fixture of the event.

But even by Telluride standards, organizers went to unusual lengths this year to keep their biggest surprise under wraps. They had carved out a prime Sunday evening slot for a world premiere that, fingers crossed, would remain unknown until the audience was seated inside the theater. Festival director Julie Huntsinger offered only a few clues beforehand. The film involved some “very known names,” she told The Times. “Do not miss it. Your jaw will be on the ground for the entire length of the film.”

For three days, trying to crack the mystery became Telluride’s unofficial parlor game. Was it Aaron Sorkin’s “The Social Reckoning”? Denis Villeneuve’s “Dune: Part Three”? Alex Gibney’s Elon Musk documentary “Musk”? By Sunday, the mounting speculation had become fodder for jokes: Introducing his new movie “Club Kid” earlier in the day, writer-director-star Jordan Firstman announced that the evening’s TBA would be a newly restored print of Jerry Seinfeld’s 2007 animated film “Bee Movie.” “Just kidding,” he added. “I love Jerry.”

The festival kept the suspense going right up to showtime. Before entering the Werner Herzog Theatre on Sunday evening, hundreds of moviegoers were required to lock their phones in pouches to prevent spreading the word. Inside, they were warned that security guards equipped with night-vision goggles would be watching for anyone who managed to keep a phone accessible.

Taking the stage, Huntsinger made one last plea for secrecy. “What happens in Telluride stays in Telluride,” she told the crowd, before bringing out Nathan Fielder, the deadpan comic mind behind the reality-bending television shows “Nathan for You,” “The Rehearsal” and “The Curse.”

What Telluride had been guarding so carefully was “You Can See Everything,” a nearly three-hour documentary about convicted Theranos founder Elizabeth Holmes, co-directed by Fielder and documentary filmmaker Lance Oppenheim. The film, which A24 will release theatrically in October, had been made largely in secret over three years.

“For those of you who don’t know who we are and are disappointed, I apologize,” Fielder, joined onstage by Oppenheim, told the crowd to laughs. “But hopefully by the end of the film, you’ll be slightly less disappointed.”

The movie begins 34 days before Holmes is due to report to federal prison, with Fielder, Oppenheim and a small crew given extraordinary access to her life with her partner, Billy Evans, and their young children. Holmes and Evans embrace what they call “radical transparency,” opening their home to the cameras in hopes of convincing the filmmakers — and eventually the world — that the public has fundamentally misunderstood her.

But as anyone familiar with Fielder’s reenactment-heavy work can imagine, “You Can See Everything” quickly becomes something far stranger than a conventional documentary. Fielder finds himself drawn from behind the camera into the story, struggling to determine whether Holmes and Evans are being candid with him or manipulating him. From there, the movie takes a series of increasingly surreal turns, including elaborate reenactments involving a Hollywood actress (her arrival is too good to spoil) that further scramble the line between reality and performance.

During a post-screening Q&A moderated by Emma Stone, who co-starred with Fielder in the darkly comic A24 series “The Curse,” Fielder said that his own inability to get a firm grip on what he was witnessing became one of the forces driving the project.

“We’re all smart and we’re really working at the top of our intelligence,” he recalled thinking as he and the crew tried to make sense of their time with Holmes and Evans. “Why can’t we make sense of what’s happening in this house?”

The project began, appropriately enough, with a magic trick.

Oppenheim said he and Fielder were at the Magic Castle in Los Angeles several years ago when a magician asked the audience to name a celebrity. Someone called out Elizabeth Holmes. Afterward, Oppenheim told Fielder he had heard through a friend of a friend that Holmes was looking for someone to document her life.

Fielder had read John Carreyrou’s “Bad Blood,” the bestselling 2018 account of Theranos’ rise and collapse and initially saw little reason to make another documentary about Holmes.

“I thought the story was really fully told,” he told the Telluride crowd. Holmes, however, had largely disappeared from public view, and Fielder was curious about what she might have to say for herself.

Meeting her only deepened that curiosity. Sitting across from Holmes, Fielder said, he found her “sort of honest and charming,” even as his brain was warning him, “No, don’t trust.” That disconnect — between what he knew about Holmes and what he felt in her presence — became central to the movie.

A24 gave Fielder and Oppenheim unusual freedom to pursue the project without any deadline or obligation to turn what they captured into a finished film. If nothing came of it, Fielder recalled being told, “you can just throw everything away.”

Holmes founded Theranos in 2003 and became one of Silicon Valley’s most celebrated young entrepreneurs by claiming the company could perform a wide range of medical tests using only a few drops of blood. The company collapsed after investigations exposed serious problems with its technology and business practices. In 2022, Holmes was convicted on four counts related to defrauding investors and later sentenced to more than 11 years in federal prison.

As shown in “You Can See Everything,” once Holmes reports to federal prison, the filmmakers’ access to her changes dramatically, with Evans — who takes over Holmes’ Twitter feed and assumes power of attorney over her decisions — becoming their main conduit. Fielder said the relationship grew strained as Evans tried to exert greater control over the project. Neither Holmes nor Evans has seen the finished movie.

Fielder is hoping to keep the film’s biggest surprises under wraps. During the Q&A, he told the Telluride audience he hoped future viewers could experience the film without knowing where it was headed. Stone seconded the request.

“You won’t be upsetting me,” Fielder joked. “You’ll be upsetting Oscar-winning actress Emma Stone.”

Fielder said that even after three years immersed in her world, he still doesn’t know quite what to make of Holmes — or how much of what she says can be believed.

“I really am struggling to this day to understand exactly what I experienced in this,” he said. “I don’t quite know what I went through.”

As the crowd filed out of the Herzog, one reaction seemed to recur more than any other: “That was wild.”

After sparse attendance during USC’s season-opening win over San José State turned the Trojans into a national punchline during the weekend, USC coach Lincoln Riley responded Tuesday, dismissing what he called a “false narrative” being spread about the program in recent days.

“I think that comes from a lot of people who don’t follow our program, most of those who have never stepped foot in the Coliseum,” Riley said. “The reality is, during my years here, attendance has gone up every single year. As has our play in the Coliseum, including running the table last year in front of a lot of epic atmospheres. And I expect that to happen again this year.”

Average attendance for USC football games at the Coliseum actually dropped from the 2024 to the 2025 season, from an average of 71,571 to 67,783. But the 2025 season also featured fewer marquee home matchups, plus one game soaked by heavy rain (Iowa), and it was still the second-best average attendance of Riley’s four seasons as coach.

Saturday, though, marked the smallest home crowd at USC since late in the 2018 season, when the Trojans had their worst finish for the program in a quarter century, under former coach Clay Helton.

Much of that was due to the scorching heat throughout the Southland, which reached a heat index about 100 at the Coliseum on Saturday. It was so hot and humid that Lee Feaster, a native Texas and the father of freshman wideout Boobie Feaster, said on Tuesday that his wife passed out during the game and still had blisters.

But the attendance announced by USC — 51,144 — admittedly felt generous.

Attendance was that low just once under Helton, for a 38-35 loss to Arizona State, the weekend before Halloween in 2018. But average attendance plummeted after the 2017 season as fan sentiment turned on Helton. For the rest of Helton’s tenure, from 2018 to the start of 2021, USC reached the 60,000-fan mark just four times.

Empty swaths of Coliseum bleachers hadn’t been as much of a concern for Riley, who had never fallen below the 60,000-fan mark at home until Saturday. But as photos of the poor attendance circulated on social media during the weekend, USC chose to release a statement responding to the online derision.

“We understand the factors that impacted Saturday’s attendance,” the statement read. “We have high expectations and a premier home schedule this season, and we know the competitive advantage an electric Coliseum atmosphere can provide our program. We thank our fans who showed up Saturday and look forward to seeing increased attendance the rest of the season.”

The response, though, only poured gasoline on a viral fire.

By Monday, the conversation had crossed over from critical posts on social media to Riley’s coaching peers roasting USC, starting with his alma mater.

“Not to take any shots because I have a lot of respect for USC and Lincoln Riley, but man it’s really awesome to be playing Lubbock, Texas, in front of 60,000,” Texas Tech coach Joey McGuire said. “And it’s going to be warm. It’s going to be every bit as warm as it was Saturday. The great thing is we’ve got some really tough people in West Texas that love their football. They’re gonna show up no matter what the weather’s like. There’s not going to be any excuses of why they’re not here for us.”

A fan covers takes cover under a poster during USC’s season opener against San José State Saturday at the Coliseum.

(Ronaldo Bolanos/Los Angeles Times)

New California coach Tosh Lupoi piled on some more Tuesday.

“To turn on the TV, to see that environment in Los Angeles, that’s disheartening to see,” Lupoi said in Berkeley. “I can guarantee you, that’s a completely different environment here.”

USC should have a much more temperate environment to play on Friday, when it kicks off against Fresno State at 6 p.m. at the Coliseum. And Riley knows the world will be watching closely, to see how many seats are filled for the Trojans’ second game.

“This is USC, right?” Riley said. “People are going to pay attention. People are going to have an opinion. It’s part of being a blueblood school.”

Daisy Chain Fields arrived on a sweltering summer Saturday, plopped in the middle of Irvine’s suede hills, inside Orange County lines. The festival, hosted by Olivia Rodrigo at the Great Park, was a spiritual successor to Sarah McLachlan’s Lilith Fair of the late ‘90s, born out of frustration with promoters and radio stations that refused to play two female artists in a row.

Like McLachlan’s event, Daisy Chain Fields boasted an all-female lineup, featuring some of the most coveted names in the contemporary music scene. The festival also gave a nod to some of the industry’s women pioneers, such as Bikini Kill and Garbage.

Anticipation for the festival was high after Rodrigo unveiled it in late June, with tickets selling out just 30 minutes after release. This translated directly onto the grounds, which were swarmed by 45,000 attendees, comprising teenage girls, moms, dads and everyone in between.

The event raised $10 million to benefit 10 girl- and women-focused nonprofit organizations, all of which made an appearance on stage before each artist’s set. Each musician on the lineup performed for free.

Festivalgoers walk past the Great Park Balloon.

1

2

1. Festival goers pose for pictures in front of a daisy backdrop. 2. Nara Brown from Costa Mesa ties together a flower headpiece.

As the sun went down and Rodrigo took the stage, she announced that proceeds had been 100% matched by billionaire and philanthropist Melinda French Gates, bringing total donations to $20 million.

The Times was on site to witness the festival in all its glory, amid astounding 94 degree heat and an unwavering, tangible electricity among fans. Here is our recap of the best moments from the festival. —Julius Miller

Livies get loud on the Metrolink
The 2 p.m. Metrolink train from Union Station in L.A. to Orange County was absolutely mobbed with Livies (a.k.a. Olivia Rodrigo fans) on Saturday. For such a car-brained region, it was sweet to see public transit packed with young fans in festival regalia, making the grind to Irvine more sane and green. Let’s have this vibe for every major SoCal festival (including the car-free Ocean Way next month). Yet, for new train fans, a gentle reminder: one spirited round of singing “Get Him Back!” as you’re climbing onboard? Endearing, a delight for all. Keeping it up for an hour, next to civilian commuters who looked ready to climb onto the tracks themselves by Buena Park? Maybe save that for the pit. —August Brown

Festivalgoers sing as Olivia Rodrigo performs during Daisy Chain Fields.

Devon Again performs during Daisy Chain Fields.

Devon Again felt so lucky that she gets to know you

25-year-old alt-pop princess Devon Again was a last-minute addition to the Daisy Chain Fields bill, replacing global girl group Katseye, who pulled out of the festival on Thursday due to a member’s ankle injury. Luckily, Devon Again, a personal friend of Rodrigo who will open for her tour starting in November, was there to answer Rodrigo’s call with a resounding “Duh, b—! Obviously I want to do it!” as she relayed to the Saturday afternoon crowd. Though Katseye’s presence was felt — members Lara Raj, Megan Skiendiel and Yoonchae Jeong took the stage to introduce nonprofit partner Baby2Baby before the set, and Devon Again’s drummer wore a Katseye shirt in tribute — Devon Again’s self-confessed impostor syndrome was misplaced. With a rollicking mix of high-energy country twang, twisty ballads and production-heavy pop hits bolstered by her crisp belt, she made the stage her own. —Eloise Rollins-Fife

Die Spitz dives into a great early set

The set began with a five-minute delay due to technical issues, during which bassist Kate Halter — impressively — performed several handstands to pass the time. By 1:45 p.m., the band was ready to go, with frontwoman Ellie Livingston kicking off the performance. Draped in a torn white skirt and black fishnet gloves to complement, she wailed “I hate when girls die.”

Die Spitz’s set felt like the epitome of what Daisy Chain was all about. The band members took turns strutting around stage and acknowledging, “I know it’s f— hot!” But that didn’t stop the crowd from forming mosh pits on the left and right side of the yellow Marigold stage. At one point, Livingston even jumped in herself, to the despair of security and the delight of fans. —JM

Eleanor “Ellie” Livingston of Die Spitz performs during Daisy Chain Fields.

Santigold’s set was worth fighting for

Santigold’s eclectic, genre-defying sound may be a hallmark of the “indie sleaze” era, but her standout midday Daisy Chain set proved she has plenty of staying power in 2026. Dressed in all white and flanked by a pair of straight-faced dancers in futuristic sunglasses, the 49-year-old artist performed back-to-back hits like “Run the Road” and “L.E.S. Artistes” to a crowd ready to dance the pain away. She even brought a handful of fans onstage — mostly, adorably, children — for a follow-along dance contest during “Unstoppable,” with a winner determined by cheers. Wrapping up the set with “Disparate Youth,” Santigold reminded the audience to keep believing in “a life worth fighting for.” –ERF

Santigold transports the crowd to the early aughts era of indie sleaze during Daisy Chain Fields.

Bikini Kill double dares Daisy Chain crowd to keep fighting the power

“This government hates us and wants us dead,” proclaimed punk icon and Bikini Kill frontwoman Kathleen Hanna: a critical guiding light for Olivia Rodrigo’s feminist consciousness, as well as that of thousands of Daisy Chain attendees on Saturday. Since the band’s inception in 1990, the OG riot grrrls of Bikini Kill made social justice the centripetal force of their furor — long before Daisy Chain Fields, and even its late ‘90s predecessor Lilith Fair. Powered by Tobi Vail on drums (and occasional vocals), Kathy Wilcox on bass and Sara Landeau on guitar, the electric Hanna buffered classic songs like “Double Dare Ya” and “Feels Blind” with parables from her own revolutionary life — much of which she spent fighting back against objectification from men. Dudes in Saturday’s crowd got a special directive: “You guys gotta talk to your friends [about misogyny],” said Hanna. “[Women] are not gonna stop this on our own!” Sealed with a kiss and delivered with a snarl, the band closed its rip-roaring set with the anthemic battle cry of “Rebel Girl,” and were flanked onstage by a few lucky young fans. —Suzy Exposito

Bikini Kill’s Kathleen Hanna preaches a message of anti-misogyny to the crowd during Daisy Chain Fields.

Mitski brought melodrama and musical magic

Whether you’ve been rocking with Mitski since the “Lush” days or discovered her music via pandemic-era Tik Tok, when industrial ballads like “Washing Machine Heart” unexpectedly popped off, there’s no denying her captivating stage presence — not to mention her stunning vocals. Longtime fans may have wished for a few more of the hits (no “Your Best American Girl” after the recent “Puberty 2” 10th anniversary re-release was a surprise), but indie music’s favorite sad-woman still brought her A-game to the Dandelion Stage, incorporating her signature “Butoh” performance style — a form of avant-garde Japanese dance-theatre — underscored by a backdrop of 1940s melodramas. During her set she implored Rodrigo to make the festival an annual tradition. “When do you get to be the first anything anymore?” she said. “For the rest of our lives, we could be like, ‘I’m OG DCF.” – ERF

Mitski performs during Daisy Chain Fields.

The Breeders deliver ‘Last Splash’ classics

Hand it to Kim Deal: As one of the OGs on the bill at Daisy Chain Fields, the Breeders frontwoman used her band’s performance to shout out an even earlier pathbreaker by wearing an old Shirley Chisholm campaign T-shirt featuring the first Black congresswoman’s slogan of “Unbought and unbossed.” Deal and her bandmates (including her twin sister Kelley) drew deeply from their classic 1993 “Last Splash” LP, loping through the country-ish “Drivin’ on 9,” chugging on a fuzzed-out “Saints” and pricking up Gen Z ears with the perennially TikTok’d “Cannonball.” — Mikael Wood

The Breeders play songs from their 1993 classic album “Last Splash” during Daisy Chain Fields.

Doechii does it for the girls

Under the hot afternoon sun, Grammy award-winning rapper Doechii celebrated all things girls in her typical over-the-top fashion. She and her dancers arrived onstage painted in hot pink, the swamp princess’ hair fashioned into high pigtails. A dance breakdown to a hardcore take on Beyoncé’s “Run the World (Girls)” introduced the set, and though she fed fans by performing some of her most popular singles — a version of “Anxiety” that morphed into a cover of the original sample “Somebody I Used to Know” by Goyte, “Alter Ego” and tracks like “Nissan Altima” and “Boiled Peanuts” from her 2024 album “Alligator Bites Never Heal” — she also reminded festivalgoers of the influential Black women artists who came before her — Lauryn Hill, Queen Latifah, Beyoncé — by mixing their iconic songs into hers. Glowing magenta, she twirled above what looked to be a rising river, a physical representation of the swirling, engulfing thoughts that anxiety can provoke as she performed the song by the same name. And just to ensure there was zero confusion, the Florida rapper ended her set by simply stating: “We do this for the girls, we do this for the gays and we do this for trans women.” —Danielle Dorsey

Doechii performs during Daisy Chain Fields.

Doechii

Garbage gives grunge power to Gen Z

With its blend of serrated alt-rock guitars and sleek machine rhythms, Garbage always sounded a little ahead of its time when the band broke out in the post-grunge mid-’90s. But as frontwoman Shirley Manson evoked an age of digital surveillance and pharmacological dependence in “I Think I’m Paranoid” — one of the era’s great snarling pop singles — what you realized is that history had finally caught up with the band. — MW

Shirley Manson, lead singer of Garbage, performs during Daisy Chain Fields.

Chappell Roan reigns with a hit-heavy set

It’s funny to think that Chappell Roan has only really been in the American music scene for the past six years, with just one studio album to her name.

Roan appeared from the back of stage, revealing her leather, periwinkle stewardess outfit and red mod bob — an apparent nod to Luc Besson’s 1997 film “The Fifth Element.” Naturally, the crowd roared as she dove bob-first into “Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl.” She’d occasionally crouch down to take a sip from her water bottle, which matched her ensemble.

Roan looked especially happy to be there, happily performing for free and her set did not disappoint.

“Only the hits today,” she said, smiling. “Only the hits.” —JM

Festivalgoers dance in the “MicroRave.”

Not for Radio crank up the volume

Just after sundown, the Marías’ enigmatic leading lady, María Zardoya, emerged to perform songs from her nocturne solo project, Not for Radio. Circled by a verdant reproduction of an enchanted forest, and dressed in a black swan-like two-piece by Ann Demeulemeester, Zardoya held the audience captive with her purring soprano and vampy stare. But make no mistake: by dialing up their otherwise elegant chamber pop with a little extra crunch and distortion, the players of Not for Radio came ready to rock out with the Daisy Chain crowd. It was during a performance of the new track “Comet,” which has only been recorded live thus far, that Zardoya bewitched fans into head-banging along with her. —SE

Olivia Rodrigo does duets with her idols

Sarah McLachlan, left, and Olivia Rodrigo perform during Daisy Chain Fields.

Rodrigo’s enduring virtue as a pop star is being a great fan first. The job requires commanding attention and devotion for yourself, but she’s never been shy about situating herself in the long arc of women who came before (and after) her, or just being moon-eyed to live inside her favorite songs with her heroes onstage. For her Daisy Chain Fields closing set, she dueted with generations of women that shaped her sense of what’s possible in music — Stevie Nicks for a gorgeous “Landslide,” and a surprise Alanis Morissette cameo for “Ironic” that felt like girl-gang karaoke night at its finest. She joined Lilith Fair founder Sarah McLachlan — a specific inspiration for this festival — for “Building a Mystery” and a deeply tender “Angel.” Even Rodrigo’s backing band, full of absolutely shredding women instrumentalists, played beside her on equal footing for exquisitely tasteful, post-punky revisions of songs across her three albums. The boys in the crowd got a brief chance to growl in the lead on “Expectations,” but here they were just allies — the headline act was Rodrigo’s talent framed as a gift received from other women, and given again to the young fans on the field. —AB