Overblown, gimmicky, stylised – and utterly mesmerising. Baz Luhrmann harnesses the visual power of cinema to take us on a whirlwind journey through the life of Elvis Presley…

Director: Baz Luhrmann

Screenwriters: Baz Luhrmann, Sam Bromell, Craig Pearce and Jeremy Doner

Script sources: Script Slug / Deadline

Summary

An ailing Col. Tom Parker (Tom Hanks) narrates the story of how he transformed Elvis Presley from small time singer into the world’s biggest star.

Review

Early in the film, we are introduced to the mesh of influences that informed the musical life of Elvis: the sexual power of rock ‘n roll; the spirituality of the black church and gospel; and the soul of blues and r ‘n b music. We are also introduced to Col. Parker, whose background was in the carnival and the novelty acts that were there to draw in the punters and separate them from their money (or ‘snow-making’, as Parker calls it). Luhrmann infuses all these influences to bring us a fantastical tale wrapped in showmanship that perfectly captures Presley’s aura, while showing us a little of the man beneath the persona.

Bookended by a bejewelled black screen, the film offers up full sensory overload, driven by the spectacular musical performances. Lots has been made of Butler’s full-on Elvis transformation and all the praise is well deserved. As well as looking the part, he captures the excitement, energy and edginess of the younger Elvis, as well as his later complexities, insecurities and contradictions. This is no mean feat, given the whistle-stop nature of the film that whips us through the whole Presley saga – from his humble roots through to the gruelling Vegas years that precipitated his death at age 42. Along the way, we get a fantastic tour of Beale Street, as Elvis absorbs the music and comes into contact with a young BB King (Kelvin Harrison Jr) and a magnificently flamboyant Little Richard. We also see him draw inspiration from the likes of Arthur ‘Big Boy’ Crudup (Gary Clark Jr), Sister Rosetta Tharpe (Yola), and Big Mama Thornton (Shonka Dukureh). Elvis may have helped to make black music mainstream, but the film never lets us forget where that sound came from. It also underlines Elvis’ social conscious, as he reacts to tragic events taking place in the US at the time, such as the assassinations of Robert Kennedy and Dr Martin Luther King Jr.

If there are negatives, the cacophony of overlapping images and sound is sometimes a little too ‘noisy’ and, for a film that runs over 2.5 hours, some of the pitstops are a little too brief. For example, the ‘Elvis in Hollywood’ years are a mere footnote, which is fine, except when Presley reveals a deep desire to be a great actor, in the vein of James Dean, there’s no real context for this. It’s been well-documented that being forced to make frothy vehicles for his singing instead of quality movies was soul destroying for Elvis. However, here the frivolity of Hollywood is instead juxtaposed with the death of Dr King.

Wider criticisms of the film seem to fall into two categories: the shallow nature of the narrative; and the use of Col. Parker as the narrator (albeit an unreliable one). Given the stylised nature of the film and the fact it covers so much ground, it’s not surprising that it has attracted accusations of superficiality. However, outside of the flashiness, the film actually cuts through the Elvis mystique to give us hints of a complex man; at once confident and shy, determined and lost, musically gifted but uncertain of his place in the entertainment world. The quick cutting of the film mirrors his unpredictable, unfocused nature, as we see Elvis dreaming of stardom, embracing the controversy of his ‘lewd’ movements, and enjoying his power over his audience, including the female adoration, then later expressing his longing to become a serious actor, and then of returning to his gospel-inspired roots. The film captures it all, showing us how Elvis became a brand, complete with the paid hangers-on and tacky merchandise, with Parker as the driving force and Presley at the centre. The craziness of the presentation is ideally suited to the craziness of the Elvis universe, with the money flowing like water, Graceland becoming an adult playground, and the next snow-making scheme always brewing.

The second criticism is that presenting Parker in a sympathetic light is problematic, given the accusations that he was largely responsible for Elvis’ breakdown and demise. However, it’s important that we (or at least Elvis) believe Parker was personally invested in Presley, rather than just seeing him as a cash cow. The Elvis presented here is not a weak man, as has been suggested, who was under the thumb of Parker. The best example of this is when Elvis teams up with a couple of hippy-type producers – one of whom candidly tells Presley his career is ‘in the toilet’ – to put together the ’68 TV special, which resurrected him as a performer. Meant to be a festive family special, Elvis goes rogue to present his music in his way. All the while, Parker tries to finesse the sponsors, who have been promised a cosy Christmas show and balk at the black leather and social activism. Ultimately, Elvis gets his way.

While Hanks’ performance as Parker has been called annoying and distracting, questionable accent aside, his portrayal of him as a slightly ridiculous grandfatherly character ensures he comes across as sly but benign, a façade that belies his true motives. Parker doesn’t ‘get’ the music, but from the first sexually-charged performance, he sure gets the audience reaction, and the snow-making possibilities it offers. If Parker was presented as an out-and-out villain, it would be less believable that Elvis would keep him around. The Parker in the film is manipulative but not overtly controlling, getting what he wants but making Elvis believe he’s working in his best interests.

Indeed, one of the best sequences happens in Act III, when Parker sets Elvis up at the newly-opened International Hotel in Vegas. His early performances at the venue were full of life and energy. Elvis enjoyed an unlimited budget and the freedom to create his own show, complete with an orchestra and two back-up groups. However, this is intercut with Col. Parker doing a deal with the hotel’s owners that torpedoes Elvis’ dreams of touring overseas and locks him in to the International for what turned out to be 800+ gruelling shows that ruined his creativity and his health. Seeing Elvis at his peak as a performer, while watching Parker sign away his future on a napkin so he can pay his own gambling debts and (as an illegal alien) avoid travelling overseas is a simple yet emotive sequence that highlights the ‘complex simplicity’ of the narrative and the power of the moving image.

Throughout the film, Elvis is not afraid to confront or defy Parker but was ultimately tied to him financially, to the point where cutting him loose would have ruined Presley. In a telling scene, towards the end, we see Parker dictating his list of ‘expenses’ that date back over 20 years to the beginning of their relationship, including a few bucks for gas money. When the bill of $8.5m is presented, Elvis realises he’ll never be free of Parker and acquiesces to the brutal Vegas schedule.

Overall, the film is not a scathing exposé of Elvis, nor is it an unmitigated love letter. We get a glimpse of the extra-marital affairs and how he drove his wife Priscilla (an effective if underused Olivia DeJonge) away, and we see Elvis’ downward spiral, paranoia and drug abuse. Ironically, given the bombastic nature of the film, Elvis’ demise is handled subtly and briefly, with the intercutting of the fictional and real Elvises (again, highlighting Butler’s awesome transformation, which, it should be noted, never strays into mere impersonator territory).

Likewise, this is not a sympathetic portrait of Parker. He’s a master of the spiel and that’s what he spins us in his voice-over narration. He sells us his side of the story but the focus of the film is Elvis, whose life is juxtaposed with Parker’s actions and comments. This allows us to judge for ourselves whether the fake colonel (aka Andreas Cornelis van Kuijk) really is the bad guy or just a small-time carnie with a dodgy past whose ultimate novelty act got far bigger than either of them could have dreamed.

In the end, the film is really a love letter to cinema itself and the sheer visual spectacle that results when a visionary director like Luhrmann takes on a unique, almost mythical, subject like The King of Rock ‘n Roll, Elvis Presley.

Go further:

Peter Guralnick’s two-volume set of non-fiction books, Last Train To Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley & Careless Love: The Unmaking of Elvis Presley, flesh out the Elvis story in such an in-depth way that they make the perfect companion to the movie.

You can also take a look at the Elvis trailer: