THE MIXER | EDITORIAL
According to Baz Luhrmann, Elvis was killed not by pills, not by Colonel Parker (his fraudulent manager), not by time, but by his eternal antagonist – love. Love for all of us.
Therefore, the Elvis movie is unlike, for example, the biopic about Morrison by Stone. It is not about drugs, not about a painful relationship with a mother or the shadow of a twin brother who died at birth, not about the injuries inflicted by the entertainment industry, which sell so well. This film is only about music and an integral part of it – the show.
Austin Butler, who plays the king of rock ‘n’ roll, at first only poses with his mouth slightly open (and resembles Justin Bieber), symbolizing either confusion or lust. It seems that the actor does not know how to play at all, but this is only at first. When the director gives him a guitar, and B.B. King a couple of philosophical tips, then it becomes clear that he is the anointed of the Muses. Priscilla is also good, looking like a dead bird. Tom Hanks is grandiose, though unrecognizable in makeup.
Luhrmann is clearly at his best. The author’s courage is hardly restrained by the facts of Elvis’ biography. In the end, Baz, of course, puts documentary footage from Elvis’ final performance in Vegas. “Unchained Melody” plays, Presley’s face already resembles a mask, but not his voice, not the passion that thunders inside of him. The earthly captivity is over, the king is ready for the Lisa Marie jet to take off towards eternity, just like a superhero.
I don’t know if it’s possible to die of love, but if so, it reconciles us with the fact that time goes by so slowly. Time can do so much.