Funtime

Rating: 10/10 (23 January 2006)

I ignored this movie upon its release due, solely, to Roger Ebert's assertion that David Bowie deserves better. I regret my decision to avoid Velvet Goldmine for so long because, frankly, David Bowie doesn't deserve to have a movie made about him. Do not misunderstand: I love the Thin White Duke, Ziggy, and A Lad Insane, but, frankly, his life is probably not interesting enough to recreate on screen. HOWEVER, a fictionalized version of that life, amalgamated with the lives of similar rock stars and taken to the most imaginative limits, is worth it. It's totally enthralling and utterly breathtaking, and, from one point of view, wholly faithful, if not deferential, to Mr. Bowie. Plus, by eschewing reality to a certain extent, Todd Haynes can make the movie he wants rather than bend his ideals to a real life.
So, basically, I avoided one of the most brilliant movies of the last 15 years based on a single point of view. As much as I value Mr. Ebert's opinion, he was sorely mistaken when it comes to Velvet Goldmine. His gravest error? That would be thinking this movie is supposed to be about David Bowie. Yes, to a certain extent it is. Brian Slade is, very much, an emulation of that man. Maxwell Demon is analogous to Ziggy Stardust; his bouts with cocaine addiction are comparable to Bowie's mid- to late 1970s travails as well. Curt Wild can stand in for Iggy Pop, whom David Bowie helped during his glammy hey-day (he produced, horribly, the Stooges final studio record, Raw Power). BUT not everything adds up, nor is it supposed to. Brian Slade is a melange of everyone from David Bowie to Marc Bolan to Brian Eno to Brian Ferry to David Johanson to... Curt Wild calls to mind Iggy Pop, clearly, but he's more sensitive and with stringy blond hair that clearly recalls Curt Cobain. Jack Fairy could be Brian Ferry or Marc Bolan or Andy Warhol. The fact is that everyone is everyone, on some level. They're all mixed up and they're supposed to be.
The movie isn't about people, but rather about a movement, which these people happen to demonstrate. The movie is about the abandonment of the pansexuality embraced by glitter. Those who rode the glam wave--who supported being gay or bisexual--made an about face. Brian Slade, in the film, becomes the straight man, pun intended--the lackey of a fascist government in an alternate 1984. Isn't that, sort of, what glam did? Didn't the ambiguous Bowie become the Iman's husband and bury his make-up and dress wearing ways in favor of making in extremely lucrative, but artistically vapid, records? Didn't Marc Bolan sputter out in a ball of cocaine? Didn't David Johanson, the gorgeous man/woman on the cover of the NY Dolls first record become Buster Poindexter? Didn't Brian Ferry choose to become a lounge singer? Didn't Brian Eno choose to... Well, no Brian Eno didn't change so much as remain weird in a different way. In any event, like Curt Wild says in the film, not everyone who says they're bisexual is; they're just doing it because they think it's cool. Velvet Goldmine is Todd Haynes's slap in the face of those artists who abandoned a truly challenging path for something a little less curvy.
Of course, it's not just the weighted ideology of the film that's brilliant. It's also the colors and the acting and the atmosphere. This movie is candy colored and wonderful to look at. It feels like Alladin Sane or The Slider sounds. It's like ingesting the warm jets. It's glam. And the acting's top-notch too. This is, quite simply, a splendid motion picture with quite a bit to say about artistic backtracking. It's just great.