Velvet Goldmine (1998)
Directed by: Todd Haynes.
Written by: Todd Haynes and James
Lyons.
Starring: Ewan McGregor (Curt
Wild), Jonathan Rhys Meyers (Brian Slade), Christian Bale (Arthur Stuart), Toni
Collette (Mandy Slade), Eddie Izzard (Jerry Devine), Emily Woof (Shannon), Michael
Feast (Cecil).
Todd
Haynes is a director whose film often reach Kubrick-ian levels of control and
perfectionism. If anything, over the course of his career, he has been accused
(wrongly in my view) of being too cold and detached – valuing the beautiful
surface of his movies more than anything else. If there is one film in his
filmography where no one could accuse Haynes of that, it would have to be
Velvet Goldmine – which is a beautiful mess of a film. The film doesn’t make a
whole lot of sense, sure, and it seems to spiral off in dozens of directions at
once, never really settling on one for very long. The calm, authorial control
that marks most of Haynes film seems completely lost in this time hoping, study
of glam rock. The film is never boring – although whether it’s very good or not
is very much open to debate.
The
film is about Glam Rock icon Brian Slade (Jonathan Rhys Meyers), who creates an
alter ego for himself – calling himself Maxwell Demon – and becoming an icon
for gay teens the world over. But as Slade gets bored of being Maxwell Demon,
he stages a splashy, onstage murder of that alter-ego – resulting in a scandal
that pretty much kills his career and he disappears from view. 10 years later,
in 1984, one of those gay teens who idolized Slade, Arthur Stuart (Christian
Bale) is a journalist who is assigned to try and track down what ever happened
to Slade. His journey follows the structure of Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane –
including many shots that deliberately echo the “greatest movie of all time” –
just to show you how much ambition Haynes really has here. As Stuart interviews
those who knew Slade – his overly ambitious wife Mandy (Toni Collette), an old
manager who was among the first Slade abandoned, and eventually another rock
star – an American named Curt Wild (Ewan McGregor), who professional and
personal connection with Slade rose and fell dramatically.
It
is obvious who the film is inspired by – with Brian Slade being a stand-in for
David Bowie, and Curt Wild an amalgamation of Iggy Pop and Lou Reed (with
perhaps a little Kurt Cobain thrown in for good measure). But you probably
shouldn’t read too much into the real life comparisons – as I think Haynes is
using it as mainly a jumping off point more than anything else. Surely, David
Bowie is more talented than Slade ever was, and not nearly as shallow or
superficial (watching it just a few weeks after Bowie’s death, the film really
does feel like a kind of fuck you to Bowie, which stings a little bit). Not
that Velvet Goldmine is all that kind to any of its characters – but at least
the Curt Wild character is presented as an original stage presence and
musician, whereas Slade is seen as someone who goes whichever way the wind is
blowing at the that time – grasping onto whatever is popular and then stealing
from those who got there first. Rhys Meters basically portrays Slade as a
pouty, spoiled brat destroying those he comes in contact with. McGregor is
clearly having fun playing the out of control Curt Wild – especially on stage
when he screams and strips and antagonizes the audience. For much of the movie
though, Curt is seen as not quite a full character – this could well be because
of the differing points of view the film adopts – that do not include his until
the end, but it hurts his character a little bit. Christian Bale doesn’t fare
much better – you may get to see his face, unlike the reporter in Kane – but
other than establishing that he is gay – and apparently at every major concert
and incident in the film as an observer – there’s not a whole lot else to play.
The best performance is by Toni Collette as Mandy Slade – the hanger on wife,
who hangs on even after he’s disappeared for years. Collette rips into the role
in the flashback scenes, and seems just beaten down in those 1984 scenes.
All
of this may sound like I disliked Velvet Goldmine – and I really didn’t, I just
don’t love it either. The film is visual feast – starting with Sandy Powell’s
brilliant, over-the-top costumes, and extending to the excellent production
design and cinematography. Haynes also used music – of course – to great effect
(even if Bowie wouldn’t let any of his music be used), he re-creates other
songs for the era in a brilliant way. The film sexual frankness is rather
refreshing – evoking the unabashed freedom of a time before AIDS when things
would come crashing down. Brian Slade may ultimately only be a petulant child,
and then a sellout, but what he meant to people like Arthur was real.
Haynes’
approach in Velvet Goldmine is similar to what he would do – with far more
success – in his Bob Dylan movie, I’m Not There (2007). That film looked a real
life, enigmatic character, and kept that enigma intact, by presenting many
different sides of Dylan – some real, some imagined. It doesn’t work as well in
Velvet Goldmine, in part because no matter who is telling the story, Slade
seems like an asshole, and in part because Haynes seems to lose the plot thread
entirely at some points – chasing the film down various rabbit holes and
asides, that are entertaining in their own right, but don’t quite add up to
very much.
Velvet
Goldmine has become a cult favorite, because of course it has. It does have a
delirious effect that is hard to beat, and its enthusiasm is infectious.
Ultimately though, the pleasures of the film are fleeting, vanishing as the end
credits start to role.
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