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An oddball film that chronicles the rise and topple of an early 1970s glam rock star, Velvet Goldmine almost defies categorization. While separating fiction from fact can be tricky, the anecdote is based graceful great on the life of David Bowie; some details have been tweaked for dramatic execute, but there’s surprisingly itsy-bitsy deviation from fair about any biography that’s ever been written about him. The non-linear story takes the viewer into the glittery world of one Brian Slade (Jonathan Rhys-Meyers) and the entourage surrounding him. Slade had created an alter-ego for himself called Maxwell Demon (as Bowie created Ziggy Stardust), and the character had almost reach to eclipse Slade himself. After an on-stage stunt literally backfires, Slade’s fans revolted against him, and the singer vanished into drugs and obscurity.
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His myth is conveyed in flashbacks when, in 1984, journalist Arthur Stuart (Christian Bale) is assigned to write a tenth anniversary retrospective on Slade and perhaps expose the singer’s ultimate fate. Arthur interviews Slade’s first manager, Cecil (Michael Feast) and then his bitter ex-wife, Mandy (Toni Collette), and from them pieces together Slade’s early background as a musician, including the players who proved crucial to his career: maverick second manager Jerry Devine (Eddie Izzard), unstable proto-punk rocker Kurt Wild (Ewan McGregor), and deceptively horrified wardrobe mistress Shannon (Emily Woof) . Arthur of course is no mere bystander to all these events; the unfolding anecdote reveals that he was a large fan of Slade, turning to music as an hasten during his stupefied adolescence. In digging up Slade’s past, he also unleashes a lot of his hold demons, and the account is honest as worthy Arthur’s as Brian’s.
Although the film stands as a loving homage to glitter, it also doesn’t hesitate to sing that the core of the phenomenon was essentially empty. Somehow, Velvet Goldmine manages to both celebrate and condemn glam rock: Slade starts his career as a naive singer-songwriter with some exciting and fresh ideas, but once Devine’s corporate machine takes over, Slade’s creativity is stifled to the point where he’s a prisoner of his bear artifice. Ultimately, the pre-fabricated exterior is all that’s left of him.
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Teasing out the memoir thread is no easy feat. Velvet Goldmine is liberally draped in yards of trappings: musical interludes, documentary sequences, images that often go unexplained and don’t add much; there’s characters, scenes, and area threads that relieve no purpose other than window dressing. Some of this proves effective (a hold on early music video is a trusty hoot), but worthy of the excess could’ve been trimmed away in the interests of tightening the sage. While Arthur’s investigation into the Slade mystery is handled well, other region elements needed more attention.
Bowiephiles will spy every phase of their idol’s early career: the smart mod, the curly-haired hippie, the cross-dressed singer-songwriter, the flamboyant glam rocker (there’s even a very fun scamper at Serious Moonlight-era Bowie that cleverly ties into the main place) . The characters mirror exactly those in Bowie’s orbit, but viewers who don’t know the characters and don’t gain the jokes/ references are obedient to gain themselves baffled, not to mention do off by the film’s excesses.
Anyone willing to sift through the spangles and feathers, however, will be rewarded with some terrific acting. Ewan McGregor is mostly wasted as the unstable Kurt Wild–he has a couple of knockout performance sequences, but Wild otherwise spends most of his scenes drugged out and exploding in inflamed diatribes; although McGregor gets top billing, Wild is really a supporting player. Izzard is a lot of fun as the oily Devine; Woof handles Shannon’s transformation from innocent schoolgirl to shrewd operator with aplomb; Feast is terrifically funny in his work as the ignominiously discarded Cecil. Bale is utterly doughty as Arthur: he has to assign across a lot of weakness and shyness and self-doubt, as well as Arthur’s sexual awakening. Many actors wouldn’t have touched this character with the proverbial ten-foot pole, but Bale handles the material–including one humiliating moment in Arthur’s life–without the slightest hint of self-consciousness. Toni Colette is a marvel, taking her character from naive party girl to cynical rock wife to jaded, washed-up ex–she’s amusing and subtle and nefarious, suggesting a deep and great appreciate for Brian, afflict and betrayal when he essentially dumps her for Kurt, and finally weary bitterness that the world at great has forgotten her. Of all the characters, Mandy seems to have truly loved the wild circus of glam rock, and she longs for the past with a touching sense of nostalgia.
As terrific as all these performances are, the film belongs to Jonathan Rhys-Meyers, whose turn as Bowie is nothing short of riveting. A kind of raw sexual energy seems to pour out of him; he’s magnetic, and powerful like Bowie himself, it’s impossible to purchase your eyes off him. The physical resemblance is particularly uncanny, and Rhys-Meyers gets all the miniature details down perfectly: the expressions, the posture, the body language. Like Bale, he tackles the role head-on, and it’s a testament to his skill that he conveys such depth of emotion through layers of costume, wig, and makeup. Even his reedy enlighten evokes the young Bowie, and yes, that’s him singing in four different numbers (two of them were left off the movie’s soundtrack CD) . This role, more than any of his others, brings home the depth and extent of JRM’s talent. Everyone in the film is stellar, but only Rhys-Meyers seems touched with safe prodigy. Anyone who admires him as an actor shouldn’t miss him here.
Velvet Goldmine’s other sizable strength is its music, which consists of classic tunes from the era, as well as songs specifically written for the film. The overall enact is of a long-lost Bowie album, and it’s a pity that two or three show-stoppers were left off the soundtrack. Music is of course inextricably linked to narrative in this type of film, faded to illuminate character and propel the yarn. A couple of position pieces don’t work, but mostly the music is fantastic, melding perfectly to the visual images and adding depth to each scene.
Velvet Goldmine plainly isn’t a movie for everyone, and almost certainly some would rep it unwatchable; mileage will vary greatly depending on one’s tolerance for cheerful characters, men in straggle, and a heightened sense of camp. There’s also a *lot* of sex (ecstatic, straight, group, and solo) and corpulent frontal nudity (male and female) –the film is rated R for a very favorable reason. Velvet Goldmine can probably be summed up as a diamond in the rough–the viewer may need to do some chipping, but the glittering facets that are revealed accomplish the exertion worthwhile.
Many of this film’s critics construct the mistake of taking it too literally – though based on Bowie’s life, it’s not intended to be legal or biographical. It is a glam fantasy, both shapely and painful at the same time. The legend is very complex, but every bit of it is worthwhile, so if you didn’t “glean it” the first time around, try watching it again! I have seen Velvet Goldmine many times, and every time there is something modern that I gape, or something else to reflect about. Todd Haynes’ script and direction and pure genius, and that’s all there is to it!
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I can not gather fault with a single of the actors – each of the stars gives a astounding performance. Toni Collette, Christian Bale, Jonathan Rhys Meyers, and Ewan McGregor give depth and emotion to characters, so that even at their harshest or most brutal moments, one can’t aid but feel for them. Micko Westmoreland (aka The Bowling Green) is a standout as Jack Fairy, who is glamour personified. There is improbable chemistry between the male leads, who truly bring to life the movie’s elated romance. Their on-screen kiss is more passionate and blooming than any I have ever seen on film, cheerful or straight.
But before you open taking the movie too seriously, it’s also titanic fun! You can analyze it, which is worthwile, or you can pop it in for a night of fluff and glamour. Everything is visually fascinating… feathers, sequins, spaceships, and glitter everwhere. Not to mention the music! Perhaps the most famous thing I gained from this movie was an introduction to a genre of music I knew nothing about. How did I survive for so long without Roxy Music?
I HIGHLY recommend this movie!
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“Once upon a time, not so long ago, the children of the revolution looked up into the sky. And there, hovering amid a boulevard of stars, was a vision of the future as curious and delicate as any dream. What they saw that night no one can ever say. But what they heard can quiet be heard today.”
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