No explanation necessary. Just let it wash over you.
Commemorating a loved one’s death is normally not something people would consider a “good time,” but when you add sexual tension, a flaming bird, Lynard Skynard, and My Morning Jacket, things suddenly don’t seem quite so bad. And Kirsten Dunst is there, so you know she’ll probably get drunk and do something slutty. Plus, any party that involves proper rich folk dropping their monocles when the whole thing goes haywire is bound to at least be a beautiful disaster.