A Haute Take on the Travis Scott Doc + Media Manipulation:Haute take Mondays
The Netflix doc doesn’t tell the full story. Here’s what it leaves out—and why it matters.
✦ Netflix’s Favorite Genre: Sanitized Tragedy
Netflix is always suspiciously present when it comes to repackaging tragedies into consumable documentaries. The Astroworld disaster was a completely preventable tragedy. But now, with the release of the Astroworld documentary on Netflix, social media—especially TikTok—is flooded with raw, first-person POVs from people who were actually there.
Screams echo through these videos. Cries of “Stop the show!” and “I can’t breathe!” are chilling. People were climbing onto camera platforms, onto the stage, begging for help—only to be shoved off by security guards who were neither trained nor qualified to handle this type of crisis.
The Body Count: What’s the Real Number?
The official number stands at 10 deaths. But even saying “only 10” feels deeply disrespectful. These were ten human beings who went to a concert expecting to come home. They didn’t.
What’s unsettling is the confusion around the numbers in the hours and days after. First it was 26, then 30, then 8, then 10. It seemed like 10 was the number everyone—especially the authorities—agreed on.
But TikTok users who were there challenge this. Many question how it’s possible that only 10 lives were lost when over 50,000 people were packed into a dangerously overcrowded space.
What Netflix Left Out
Netflix conveniently skips over the disturbing detail that the ground itself was unstable—shifting, bouncing. People had no steady footing. The floors were slick, compressed, marked with black skid-like stains—not from tires, but from shoes being dragged under extreme force.
Yes, the documentary includes individual stories, testimonies from underprepared security guards, and text exchanges between Live Nation employees—but it’s surface level. Sanitized. Cleaned up for optics.
The Money Talks: Why Didn’t Travis Stop the Show?
Travis’s infamous “apology” (if you can even call it that) is burned into the internet—a black-and-white Instagram Story where he cradles his head like he has a hangover.
A crucial point rarely discussed: Travis had a massive streaming deal with Apple Music. He reportedly needed to complete the full show to get paid. That’s why people believe he kept performing, even as fans screamed for help, climbed onto camera rigs, and begged him to stop.
Meanwhile, cameramen were being grabbed, shaken by desperate fans. No one intervened.
Let’s be clear: Live Nation overbooked the venue. They packed it far beyond capacity. Their defense? The Houston Fire Department signed off on it being “safe.”
Defenders of Travis claim he didn’t know what was happening—that his team told him via in-ear monitors that “everything is under control.”
→ Be serious. Look at the crowd. Listen to them. That excuse is a joke.
This isn’t about one artist. This is about a system:
Who at Live Nation approved this?
Why haven’t those names been made public?
Where is the accountability?
Travis Scott and Michelle Lamy
This is where things get weird—and a little uncomfortable. Some attendees have spoken about the frequencies being used during the show. People reported feeling like they were in a trance.
It’s no secret that Travis encourages chaos at his concerts. Passing out, getting injured—it’s almost a badge of honor in his fan culture. There are even videos of people getting trampled… and then getting back up to keep raging. Disturbing.
And then comes the conspiracy wave:
The symbolism of the stage.
The eerie connections to fashion icons like Michele Lamy (Rick Owens’s partner, known for her alignment with occult aesthetics).
Claims of “ritualistic” undertones, satanic symbolism, and even trafficking conspiracies.
While I tread carefully with this discourse—because it can quickly become disrespectful to the victims—the fact that so many people felt something was off cannot be ignored.
Beyond the confirmed deaths, there are still reports of missing persons from that night—people who were never found. Speculation runs wild: trafficking, organ harvesting, or simply bodies lost in the chaos.
→ The horrifying truth? We may never know what really happened to some of those people.
Accountability Theater: Where Do We Go From Here?
Who takes responsibility?
Is it Travis?
Is it Live Nation?
Is it the city officials who allowed this?
“Sorry” doesn’t resurrect anyone. Neither does a payout. Meanwhile, Travis’s career continues as usual. The executives behind Live Nation remain faceless.
This Netflix documentary feels less like truth-telling and more like reputation management wrapped in aesthetic packaging.
✦ This Shouldn’t Be a Haute Take… But It Is
I say this every time: this shouldn’t even have to be a “take.” Ten lives lost (and likely more unaccounted for) shouldn’t be reduced to a PR clean-up job.
The bare minimum is accountability—real, public, transparent. Until then, it’s up to the families and the public to demand justice.