Rating: PG-13
Runtime: 2 hours, 39 minutes
Director: Baz Luhrmann
Quick Impressions:
When my sister visited last summer, I tried in vain to convince everyone to see this as a family bonding activity, but they all countered with, “Instead, why don’t we bond by not doing that?” And so instead of going to Elvis, we went to the candy store. (In their defense, it’s a really fun candy store full of the same kinds of elaborate visuals that you usually get in a Baz Luhrmann movie.) Now that I’m catching up on Oscar films, I spontaneously decided to watch this late at night on my own to cram in as many potential nominees as I possibly can before the Golden Globes (which is happening on Tuesday. I don’t like that, but I have no rational reason to find it so off-putting. Tuesday is my favorite day of the week. I guess I’ll watch them probably.)
I’m not sure how I feel about Elvis, but I’m desperately curious about Colonel Tom Parker. Who is he? What’s his backstory? And why do so many people’s careers start in the circus? I swear, over the past couple of years, I’ve seen ninety movies that feature a significant character who spends extensive time in a traveling circus or carnival. (To be fair, my daughter and I did recently watch The Greatest Show on Earth, The Great Ziegfeld, and The Unknown just by chance. Those aren’t new. But I’ve still seen an awful lot of recent stuff featuring characters who tell us, “It all started back when I was in the circus…” Was everybody in the circus but me? I’m so jealous! (I’m going to join the circus and then start telling my own story that way. “My life really began the day I joined the circus…”)
I remember when I was about eleven, the Disney Channel kept announcing that it was the Year of Elvis. This happened every year for what felt like an eternity. (I remember thinking, “Wasn’t it just the Year of Elvis last year?” At first, I just thought it was me. Now that I’m seeing all the movies and having fun with my family, I’ve started feeling like, “Ooh! It’s almost time for Christmas!” Something is clearly wrong with my internal clock.) And Disney does loves extending their celebrations. At the theme parks, Mickey’s 60th Birthday lasted through half my childhood. Later, though, I discovered Elvis was born in January, which made their programming choices make slightly more sense.
In fact, Elvis was born January 8, which means I accidentally watched this movie on his birthday. I’ve never been an enormous Elvis fan. I’ve seen several of his movies, but I’ve only paid attention to the ones Ann-Margret is in because she’s the one who caught my attention, not Elvis. (I especially liked Viva Las Vegas.) I’ve also seen The Naked Gun movies millions of times, and I think Priscilla Presley’s very funny in those.
Elvis himself? I have nothing against him, but I’ve never paid much attention to him, his iconic career notwithstanding. I usually think of Elvis as Movie Elvis, but as this film illustrates, he had a multi-stage career with a few reinventions of himself. Despite the stature of Elvis as a star, it’s Baz Luhrmann’s name that made me interested in this movie, not Elvis Presley’s. Luhrmann makes the kind of movies that don’t have to be perfect to be good. I don’t think I’ve ever disliked one of his films, and his devotion to a certain type of spectacle seemed like a good fit for someone like Elvis. I actively wanted to see this back in the summer and was disappointed to miss it. Now that I’ve seen it, though, I’m not sure what I think.
The Good:
I had so many disjointed thoughts while watching this film. I wish I had stronger feelings about the movie as a whole. Writing this review is like pulling teeth.
I did appreciate learning a bit more about Elvis. I knew, of course, that he initially created some stir and scandal by sounding black on the radio, then turning out to be white. (That has come up in random conversations with assorted people throughout my life.) But I had no idea Elvis hung around on Beale Street, soaking up the atmosphere, making friends with B.B. King. I also didn’t know he took his gyrations from tent meetings. He acquired what he borrowed in such an authentic way, and then (if this movie is accurate), he worked for justice, Civil Rights, and integration when he could. How you acquire something you borrow from another culture does make a huge difference. Elvis seems much cooler than I realized. (I don’t know how people get so cool. It would never have occurred to me to go to Beale Street and hang out with B.B. King. This movie makes it look like anybody could do that if they took the notion. Austin’s like fifteen minutes from where I live, but I would have no idea how to find all the musicians. I had friends in grad school who did that. Such things are totally mysterious to me.)
I’ve heard so much positive buzz about Austin Butler’s performance, and I liked him in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. (He’s memorable as Tex.) I wish I knew how much of the singing he did. As soon as the movie started, I realized that was going to bother me through the whole thing. So I paused and Googled it. But the answer is that he sings all the songs, but he’s not always the one we hear. Sometimes we’re hearing the actual Elvis, and sometimes, we’re hearing Butler. But he is performing all of the songs, whether we’re hearing him, Elvis, or a blend of their voices.
I kept getting distracted by Colonel Tom Parker (Tom Hanks), a character I found far more intriguing, especially when he explains his thought process to us. He gets the film’s most thought-provoking lines. I especially like his insight that Elvis’s appeal lay in his ability to give audiences “feelings they weren’t sure they should enjoy.” That’s a fascinating way of looking at it. (It gives us insight into both Elvis and Parker.) I like the performance more than I expected. At several moments, I would ask myself, “Is this kind of a corny performance by Tom Hanks?” And then I would decide, “No, it’s good.” I like that Machiavellian twinkle in his eye and the way Parker at almost all times seems simultaneously villainous and sympathetic. He’s just as interesting as Elvis, maybe more interesting. (Obviously Elvis is an outstanding entertainer, but this movie is good because of Hanks’s performance as the Colonel Tom Parker character. Otherwise, why would we watch this? Austin Butler is good, yes, but videos of the real Elvis exist.) To me, Parker’s character is what makes the story interesting.
The other pervasive thought I kept having was, “Why would anybody want to be a rock star?” The trajectory is always the same. The same events happen in every movie about famous musicians. The only variation is that sometimes the stars get addicted to drugs, fall into obscurity, then recover and make a comeback, and other times, they get addicted and die before they have time to fall into obscurity and make a comeback. Their managers (or family) are always, always taking advantage of them and messing up their finances. But then when they try to get away from them, their whole life falls apart. If biopics are to be believed, this happens to every star.
Why do we torture our idols? What charisma can this one man possess that makes entire rooms full of women scream, throw their underwear at him, pass out…? I like the way this film links his unique performing style to the charismatic frenzy he experienced as a child at a tent revival. A frenzy is a frenzy, I guess. We’ve known that since ancient times. Some people do have more charisma than others. (Why though?)
What Elvis does to bring a crowd to a frenzy wouldn’t work for just anyone. Elvis impersonators can shake and wiggle and gyrate all day long. The effect isn’t the same. Because women throw their underwear, there’s a huge temptation to say the Elvis phenomenon is about sex, but I’m not convinced. (Certainly the authorities are bothered by all the underwear throwing. In the benefit scene, it’s perfectly fine for the scantily clad women performing before Elvis to wear revealing costumes and do high kicks. But he’d better not shake and wiggle.) I would love to see Elvis perform myself to get to the bottom of this. I can’t imagine throwing my underwear at anyone. Granted I was extremely effusive when I met Alex Trebek, but I did not throw my underwear at him. I will acknowledge that it’s stupid to say underwear throwing is not about sex, but what I’m saying is the sex is not the point. The sex is in service of some other, greater force at work. Surely women encounter attractive men every day and don’t throw their underwear at them. What makes these women suddenly think, “Ah yes, I’ll throw my underwear. That would be a totally appropriate thing to do right now.” They’re right. It is appropriate. Why? What is going on?
In a weird way, the movie presents Elvis as a prophet. He goes to the African American tent meeting, finds the spirit, then transfers that energy into segregated gatherings of curious white people. There’s something much more powerful (and dangerous) in what he’s doing than merely racy thrills. This movie makes me think of John Lennon saying the Beatles were more popular than Jesus. Elvis performs and something happens. He’s not as interesting off stage, and he’s also not as interested, not as engaged. The Colonel keeps saying he craves the love of the audience. Well yeah. He’s doing some kind of magical thing. What he’s doing up on stage is more real than other reality, just like the charismatic frenzies that go on in those tent meetings. What he does is supernatural. That is fascinating. Also fascinating is that although he keeps adding more and more bling to his appearance, he doesn’t need those glittering accessories to create magic on stage.
Most Oscar-Worthy Moment, Austin Butler/Best Action Sequence:
Elvis’s performance of “Trouble” at the children’s benefit is inspired. I like Butler’s performance here because we see that before he performs, he’s facing such a dilemma. He feels powerless and conflicted and trapped and doesn’t know what to do. Then as soon as he steps on stage, he knows exactly what to do. And clearly, he gains power and confidence through the act of performing.
I don’t understand why people are consistently surprised when artists choose to serve their art and their fans rather than dressing up in a tuxedo and singing to a dog in a monocle. The only people who want Elvis not to behave this way are those who will directly make money if he behaves the other way. I guarantee you, the vice squad (at least as depicted in the movie) want Elvis to behave the way he does, too. Then they get to express openly the contempt they feel for him, and no one will blame them because they’ve been provoked. I’m not even sure this is bravery by the artist. It plays as bravery, but as I think about it, the words that pop into my head are, “How in the world did you have the courage to do the thing that makes you special, the thing you love doing, when absolutely everyone wanted you to?” (Now, of course, I usually lack the courage to behave in this way, but no matter what I do, nobody throws their underwear at me.)
When I started watching a Baz Luhrmann movie about Elvis, I expected to get swept away in the pageantry and the music. But instead, Elvis prompted a non-stop stream of philosophical reflections on our society.
I kept asking myself, “Why in the world are the powers that be making such a big deal about this? Why is it that they so desperately don’t want him to wiggle around when he sings?” But I think they answer is they do want him to, actually. Who wouldn’t want to punish someone so visible?
Best Scene:
Elvis’s first performance at the International Hotel is pretty magical, approaching the greatness of that Live Aid scene in Bohemian Rhapsody (though it never quite gets there).
I also love the moment when Priscilla leaves because Elvis is so out of it. I realized, “If he’s on as many drugs as he appears to be, then he probably doesn’t even know what’s going on.” I tend to space out and lose time. He’s getting high and losing time. I’m not sure I ever thought that through before. You always see these famous stars who lose the ones they love because they won’t stop getting high. But from their point of view, they just wake up at some point, and someone is yelling at them, leaving them. I hadn’t thought of it like that before.
Best Scene Visually:
I loved the end credits. They’re so opulent. Watching, I felt like I’d wandered into a medieval book of hours owned by the Pope. Then to have Eminem perform is inspired. (I suddenly thought, “Oh my God! I could never make a movie! Paring down a manuscript is so difficult. With a movie, though, your total runtime wouldn’t just be calculated based on the film. You’d have to allow several minutes for the opening and closing credits.” Just thinking about it makes me exhausted!)
In the film itself, I love the sequence where Elvis’s life briefly becomes a Hollywood movie.
I also like the later scene in which we see Elvis being told his career is now terrible, as he sits in the broken-down Hollywood sign, which has fallen into despair. (I just feel like that’s the start of a great anecdote. “I’m telling you, you don’t know this town like I do! I remember when Elvis Presley himself used to sit in the moldering O of the Hollywood sign, looking down over this town for decades as decay and degradation slowly set in…”)
As with all Baz Luhrmann movies, this one has a kinetic aesthetic, full of glittering moving parts to catch the eye even when nothing in particular is happening.
The Negatives:
This movie is about Elvis. The King of Rock and Roll.
While watching, I became intellectually curious about the frenzy of the crowds, but I never felt the frenzy. The film Bohemian Rhapsody is far from perfect, but for a few minutes, it resurrected Freddie Mercury. Experiencing his ghost helped me to understand him in a visceral, non-intellectual way (because the appeal of rock stars is not intellectual). That Live Aid sequence was the most exhilarating thing I’d experienced in a movie theater all year. I saw instantly the star power of Freddie Mercury and marveled that he had somehow lived on and become part of this transcendent energy able to reach us from beyond the grave. (It’s even more impressive because that film had such a notoriously troubled production, so you get the idea that somehow the magic of that scene was meant to happen.) I never quite got that from this film. The first performance at the International Hotel comes closest to this type of phenomenon but still doesn’t quite get there. To be fair, when I watched the film, I was tired after an unusually full weekend. I do plan to watch it again with my husband and daughter and give it another chance. The problem might be me.
I feel like watching Tár helped me to understand Lydia Tármore than Elvis revealed Elvis. Maybe there’s just not much to understand about Elvis? He loved his mom. He had a gift. He appreciated the music and culture of Beale Street. He needed to perform. He craved the love and interactive energy of the audience. He believed in social justice. He didn’t want to be murdered. People took advantage of him. This all seems pretty straight forward. If I could do a thing that made women throw their underwear at me, I would do that thing, too. Obviously that’s the most real thing you’re doing. It transcends the mundane. It’s like worship.
I can’t imagine throwing my underwear at a performer. (If there’s a vice squad running around policing everyone, why didn’t they tackle the problem of why women’s underwear can so easily be removed in public? If anything, Elvis’s act should be pointing out to fretful enforcers of public morals that the norm for women should be wearing pants, not dresses. Maybe the idea is dresses make it easier for a man to remove a woman’s underwear.)
I’m asking myself, “Whose performance did you like better? Austin Butler’s or Brendan Fraser’s?” And I have to be honest. I didn’t like either of them that much. I feel like I’m missing something. I’ve heard so much positive buzz about this performance. I did like Butler’s performance, but I think I preferred the performance of Tom Hanks, and I have problems with that performance, too. Shouldn’t Colonel Tom Parker speak with a Southern accent? After the movie, I checked, and in life, he did speak with a Southern accent. Wouldn’t everyone guess your secret right away if you spoke with the accent Hanks uses? He’s still my favorite character, though, because while his vices are clear, I’m still not completely sure what his virtues are. Those “I Hate Elvis” buttons are inspired, and the person doing the performing is unlikely to have the right skillset to promote himself.
I wish I would be more interested in Elvis. Also, some very talented actors appear in very small parts. B.B. King is played by Kelvin Harrison, Jr. Kodi Smit-McPhee is Jimmie Rogers Snow. I wanted to see more of these characters. I got excited to see David Wenham turn up as Hank Snow, but he’s hardly in the movie. Richard Roxburgh (whom I always think of as the Duke in Mulan Rouge) is good as Elvis’s father and actually has a decent part, but most of the supporting characters in the movie don’t get much to do or aren’t around for long.
Overall:
Elvis was good, but not as exciting as the other films I’ve been watching lately. The songs are great, of course, and Tom Hanks is compelling as the sinister yet weirdly sympathetic Colonel Tom Parker (an unreliable narrator and perhaps an out-and-out villain). Austin Butler is a charismatic Elvis, but I’m not as blown away by his performance as I’d hoped. I’ll watch the movie again, though. I wish I had more to say about it.