Words by Billy Edwards
One of AmericaÔÇÖs greatest heroes has finally got the awe-inspiring cinema treatment he deserved. ÔÇÿELVISÔÇÖ is an electric tribute to a masterful showman, flying by despite its well-over two-hour runtime. Directed by Baz Luhrmann in his colourfully kaleidoscopic style, it is very much as theatrical as ElvisÔÇÖ awesome performances ÔÇô it looks ÔÇÿWalk HardÔÇÖ or ÔÇÿSpinal TapÔÇÖ dead in the eye, doubling down on the now-permeated musical biopic tropes with little subtlety, the most sensational of these being the intensely dramatic moment where the Colonel discovers Elvis is white. Luckily, the ÔÇÿLuhrmannismsÔÇÖ calm down around the half-hour mark as Austin Butler takes the spotlight. He too is sensational. He transforms into the King and has it all ÔÇô the look, the moves, and even the voice: Austin sings ElvisÔÇÖ first records with gusto. His quivering hip-shakes are instantly as exciting as the real thing. What a perfect piece of casting ÔÇô you can tell Butler understands the importance of this role to millions upon millions and gives it his all.
Much has been made of Tom Hanks in a rare villainous role as ElvisÔÇÖ megalomanic manager, Colonel Tom Parker. Cartoonish whilst cunning, Hanks toys with the question of whether the Colonel was a blessing or a terrible hindrance to the boyÔÇÖs talent. Capitalism incarnate, Parker was a hard-nosed dollar-chaser who played his prot├®g├® as a pawn: manipulating Presley into throwaway films, uninspired music, and exhausting live appearances he didnÔÇÖt want. The most impressive Luhrmann spectacle concerns Presley in the 60s – a flurry of recreations of ElvisÔÇÖ hack-job movies are segmented on screen, accompanied by a fantastic mash-up of BritneyÔÇÖs ÔÇÿToxicÔÇÖ and ÔÇÿViva Las VegasÔÇÖ. ItÔÇÖs a stark depiction of how the Colonel ensured that Presley was excluded from a role in the creative sandpit of 1960s culture. His creepiness was well-acted ÔÇô his slow-burning manipulation of Elvis, deep in the eyes behind his grins, as he twirled his walking stick like a cattle prod, was doubly unsettling.
The film falters a little in its confrontation of the biggest controversy of the Presley legacy: race. The argument that Elvis appropriated music without the credit is an easily debunked myth, but the film seems mishandled in its unnecessary reassurance to audiences new to Elvis that he was unprejudiced; youÔÇÖd be forgiven for thinking the filmmakers were bluffing. The opening moments of a young Elvis discovering gospel music in Mississippi are inspiring, yet certain scenes feel like a carousel of famous black musicians portrayed as props before the film zips along to something else. However, it’s approach to Little Richard is a much-welcome outlier. Les Greene is unbelievably arresting in a rendition of ÔÇÿTutti FruttiÔÇÖ; so much so, getting a film of his own is a no-brainer.
Soon comes my personal favourite era: his reinvigoration due to the ÔÇÖ68 Comeback Special, a TV performance to remind America – and himself – of his formidable skill. I was almost punching the air at the sheer triumph: the camera rotates to a defiant Elvis and twenty-foot-tall lights of his name, with the spine-tingling opening of ÔÇÿIf I Can DreamÔÇÖ. There was not a dry eye. The tragedy takes shape; a superhuman personality prevented from following his instinct and passions at every turn. Luhrmann delivers on depicting every chance Elvis gets to decide his life for himself, making it even more soul-crushing to admit to yourself the ending you know so wretchedly well. You wish it could end any other way.
Watching Elvis ÔÇÿcaught in a trapÔÇÖ of a Las Vegas residency through the 1970s, I felt so terrible for him. Though here the film features surely the most impressive sound-editing my ears have ever been treated within a cinema, Butler depicts the plight of depression after losing everything excellently. Nothing can prepare you for the emotional impact of the last fifteen minutes: itÔÇÖs a stunning ending pitched with complete respect and admiration for its focus. I had lost it: a total blubbering mess. Sitting there next to my girlfriend, I thought of how Elvis had been there for me when the thought of anything like that in my life was hilariously unobtainable: first through my ÔÇÿElvis 30 #1 HitsÔÇÖ CD, then dancing to my ÔÇÿReturn To SenderÔÇÖ 7ÔÇØ single in my room, thinking about how it was always my favourite to perform in the school choir, then everywhere else ÔÇô I had listened to him so much, I wanted to be like him, even, and felt right to the core of the heart every word he sang about the power, purity, and resilience of love when I didnÔÇÖt know it all that well. He was always a friend. I cried for my friend. I have never once seen people stand up and applaud for a film before, but they did when I saw ÔÇÿELVISÔÇÖ: it was absolutely deserved.
