Woodstock 1999 on the final night of that notorious music festival, the night when things went very, very bad. And I didn't get much sleep while I was sometimes lying, sometimes sitting in my tent, all the while listening to the noise outside and steeling myself for the moment when the sound would get closer and louder. Was I scared? A bit. Well, OK, more than a bit. But I couldn't acknowledge that to myself. You see, I'd brought along my son, who was 12 years old at the time, and somehow able to sleep through all the disturbing din. And the whole time he was sleeping a few inches away from me in our tent, I was thinking: If push comes to shove here, am I going to be badass enough to take care of my kid?
Fortunately, none of the craziness made its way over to our part of the camping ground. Still, every so often, whether I want to or not, I think about about that night. This week at SXSW, I thought about it a lot after I watched an intensely suspenseful move titled Citadel. Please don't misunderstand: That isn't the only reason why I was impressed by the film, as you can see by reading my Variety review. But still... Well, let's just say that if you're a parent, and you've ever been in a situation at all similar to the one I was in at Woodstock '99, this movie just might scare the hell out of you.