This documentary tells the story of what happened on November 5, 2021, when Travis Scott's music festival (Astroworld) in Houston turned deadly. Ten people lost their lives, and hundreds more were injured in what should have been a night of fun and music.
The documentary starts by showing us the festival as it was meant to be – colorful, exciting, almost like a theme park come to life. Travis Scott had created Astroworld as his dream festival, complete with carnival rides and larger than life visuals. But as the documentary unfolds, this dreamlike atmosphere becomes increasingly nightmarish.
What makes this documentary so powerful is that it lets the people who were actually there tell the story. We hear from security guards who were hired just one day before the festival and given no training at all. Their only instruction was to "follow what the others are doing." Imagine being responsible for thousands of people's safety with that as your only guidance. There's a photographer who worked for LiveNation (the company that organized the festival) who was told to "lean into the chaos" EMTs describe having to perform CPR on multiple people at the same time while music blasted overhead. These aren't actors, these are real people who lived through something horrific, and their voices shake as they remember what they saw.
The problems started early in the day. The documentary shows how fans broke through security barriers and stormed into the festival without tickets, literally trampling over metal detectors and body scanners. Security guards describe feeling completely overwhelmed as crowds of people pushed past them. The venue was set up in a way that trapped people – imagine a T-shaped fence with only two ways out. Crowd safety experts explain this is like a funnel that gets narrower and narrower until people have nowhere to go. By the time Travis Scott walked on stage at 9 PM, there were already too many people packed into too small a space.
But here's where the documentary gets really disturbing. It shows Travis Scott continuing to perform even after he could see people in distress. At one point during his song "90210" he watches as someone unconscious gets carried out of the crowd. He stops the music briefly and asks for help, but then this is where it gets chilling – he starts humming along to his next song "SKELETONS" while this person is being moved. The documentary shows him dancing robotically, almost like he's in a trance, completely disconnected from what's happening right in front of him.
Fans in the crowd were making X signs with their hands which is the universal signal that something is seriously wrong and shouting "STOP THE SHOW!". Some people climbed onto camera towers and broadcast equipment, screaming for the show to stop. One witness, a trained nurse, describes frantically trying to revive someone who had gone into cardiac arrest right there in the crowd. She managed to bring him back using a sternum rub, and the person later found out he had a heart attack. All of this was happening while the music continued to pump at deafening volumes.
The documentary tries to be fair about whether Travis could really see or understand what was happening. His defenders argue that with all the stage lights blinding him, his in-ear monitors blocking outside sound, and the general chaos of a big concert, he couldn't tell how bad things were. But the documentary includes testimony from multiple witnesses who insist he had a clear view of the panic and chose to ignore it. What's undeniable is that people were dying while he kept performing.
The documentary also dives deep into Travis Scott's history of encouraging dangerous behavior at his concerts. There's footage from previous shows where he tells crowds "It's not a mosh pit if there ain't injuries" and actively encourages fans to jump from balconies and storm security barriers. This wasn't just one bad night – it was part of a pattern of promoting "raging" culture where chaos and danger were seen as part of the fun.
Behind the scenes, things were even worse. LiveNation, the massive company that runs concerts worldwide, seems to have made one bad decision after another. They sold way more tickets than they originally planned for – the festival was designed for about 35,000 people but they sold tickets to over 50,000. They hired untrained security at the last minute. They created a dangerous layout that trapped people. And when the crisis hit, the two people who had the power to stop the show couldn't be found. When officials finally tracked one of them down around 9:51 PM, they decided to end the concert by 10 PM but then Drake came out as a surprise guest, making the show run even longer.
The documentary suggests that money played a huge role in keeping the show going. Apple Music was paying $4.5 million to stream the concert live to millions of viewers around the world. With that much money on the line, stopping the show would have been expensive and embarrassing. It's a sickening thought that financial concerns might have outweighed human lives. This documentary shows how capitalism and the entertainment industry's hunger for profit created a perfect storm where stopping to save lives became a business decision rather than a moral imperative.
The victims' stories are the heart of this documentary, and they're absolutely heartbreaking. The youngest was Ezra Blount, just 9 years old, who was crushed while sitting on his father's shoulders to get a better view. His father describes the horror of feeling his son go limp above him and not being able to get help in time. Brianna Rodriguez was 16, a high school student who loved to dance and had such a bright future ahead of her. John Hilgert was 14, a freshman who was just starting his life. Mirza "Danish" Baig was 27 and died protecting his fiancée from the crushing crowd – witnesses describe him as a hero who used his body as a shield. Each victim had their own dreams, their own families who loved them, their own stories that were cut tragically short.
The documentary doesn't just focus on those who died. It also shows the lasting trauma experienced by survivors. Many describe feeling guilty that they survived when others didn't. Some have developed anxiety and can't attend concerts anymore. Others have physical injuries that will never fully heal. The psychological scars run deep – imagine being trapped in a crowd where you can't breathe, watching people collapse around you, screaming for help that doesn't come. These people will carry that experience for the rest of their lives.
After the tragedy, Travis Scott posted an apology video on Instagram that many found insulting. Shot in black and white with his head in his hands, it felt more like a carefully staged performance than genuine remorse. His monotone delivery and rehearsed looking gestures struck survivors as a slap in the face. Meanwhile, LiveNation issued statements claiming they had followed all safety protocols and that everything was handled properly. They even had the audacity to say that approved crowd numbers weren't exceeded, despite clear evidence to the contrary.
The survivors' accounts are the most powerful and disturbing part of the film. They describe feeling like they were drowning on dry land, being lifted off their feet by the crowd's movement, watching people's eyes roll back as they lost consciousness. Some describe the crowd moving like a ocean wave, with people being swept along helplessly. Others talk about the eerie silence that would fall when the music briefly stopped, only to be filled with screams for help.
What's most frustrating about this is how completely preventable it all was. The documentary shows text messages sent at 9 PM before Travis even took the stage – warning that the situation was already unsafe. Crowd safety experts had identified similar events as disasters waiting to happen. There were so many red flags, so many warning signs, but they were all ignored in favor of keeping the show going and the money flowing.
The legal aftermath offers little comfort to anyone seeking justice. While families of the victims reached settlements with Travis Scott, LiveNation, Apple Music, and others involved, the amounts were kept secret, and many families felt pressured to accept deals that didn't reflect the true value of their loved ones' lives. A Houston grand jury decided in June 2023 not to bring criminal charges against anyone, treating the deaths as a tragic accident rather than the result of negligence and poor decision making. Travis Scott started something called Project HEAL to fund concert safety initiatives, but for many, this felt like a PR move rather than genuine accountability.
The documentary also explores the broader culture around Travis Scott and his fans. There's footage of previous incidents where fans were seriously injured at his concerts, yet he continued to promote this dangerous "raging" mentality. The film questions whether artists have a responsibility to their fans beyond just entertainment.
Director Yemi Bamiro does an excellent job of building tension throughout the documentary. The documentary feels like watching a slow motion car crash – you know what's coming, but you can't look away. The editing effectively uses concert footage, witness testimony, and emergency radio communications to create a timeline that shows just how many opportunities there were to prevent this tragedy.
One of the most chilling aspects of the documentary is how it shows the disconnect between what was happening in the crowd and what was being broadcast to the world. Apple Music's live stream made everything look normal and exciting, while people were literally dying just out of camera range. This highlights how easily the truth can be hidden when there are powerful interests at stake.
Travis Scott continues to work with LiveNation even after the Astroworld tragedy. Despite the company's role in the safety failures that led to ten deaths, Scott partnered with them again for his Utopia tour. It raises serious questions about whether anyone involved truly learned from what happened. The fact that the same people who failed so spectacularly at Astroworld were trusted with more concerts suggests that for some, the tragedy was just a temporary setback rather than a wake up call. This ongoing partnership feels like a slap in the face to everyone who suffered that night and undermines any claims about taking responsibility or implementing real change.
Trainwreck: The Astroworld Tragedy is not an easy watch. There are moments that are almost unbearable, especially when you see the chaos unfolding while the music continues to play and people continue to dance, completely unaware of the horror happening around them. But it's also an incredibly important film that serves as both a memorial to those who died and a stark warning about what can happen when profit is put before people's safety.
The documentary raises profound questions about fan culture, corporate responsibility, and the music industry's priorities. It shows how a combination of greed, negligence, recklessness, and a culture that glorifies danger can turn a celebration into a catastrophe. It forces viewers to confront uncomfortable truths about how we consume entertainment and what we're willing to accept in the name of having a good time.
Most importantly, the film makes sure that the ten people who died at Astroworld won't be forgotten. It gives them names, faces, and stories. It shows them as the complete human beings they were, not just statistics in a tragedy. This humanization is crucial because it reminds us that behind every crowd injury report, every safety violation, every corporate decision to cut corners, there are real people whose lives hang in the balance.
In a world where music festivals keep getting bigger, more crowded, and more profit-driven, this documentary's message couldn't be more relevant. It's a reminder that the entertainment industry has a responsibility to the people who make it profitable – the fans. It shows what happens when that responsibility is ignored in favor of spectacle, social media moments, and corporate profits.
The film is streaming on Netflix now, and despite how difficult it is to watch, it absolutely deserves to be seen. Anyone who goes to concerts, works in the music industry, organizes events, or cares about public safety needs to understand what happened at Astroworld. Only by truly understanding how this tragedy unfolded, can we hope to prevent it from happening again.
The ten families will never be the same. Hundreds of survivors will carry physical and emotional scars forever. And all of it could have been prevented if the right people had made the right choices at the right times.
This isn't just a story about one bad night at a concert. It's a story about how our society values entertainment over safety, profit over people, and image over reality. It's a wake up call that we all need to hear.
Watch on Netflix