AC/DC's '85 Rock in Rio set is a masterclass in hard rock excess. The Australian juggernaut tears through their hits, with Bon Scott's ghost haunting every note. Brian Johnson, a whirlwind of sweat and leather, commands the stage, his voice a sandpaper growl. Angus Young, in his schoolboy uniform, shreds with pentecostal fervor, his Gibson smoking. The crowd, a writhing mass of tattoos and denim, surrenders to the relentless onslaught, singing along to every word, their bodies a testament to the power of rock 'n' roll.