it was rugged and naive - it was heaven

Rating: Null/10 (14 May 1999)

If you aren't a huge David Bowie fan, you just won't get it. But if you are.... ahhhh.... it's like a little slice of heaven.
After a bit of a flouncy, supposedly mythic introduction, which informs us that pop superstardom was begotten by Oscar Wilde, Director Todd Haynes begins a cinematic montage set to Eno's "Needles in the Camel's Eye" which finds a gaggle of screaming glitter rock kids running down an English street with wild abandon. It's beautiful. To paraphrase the granddaddy of glam himself (Bowie), "It's rugged and naive. It's heaven."
Haynes proceeds to flip-flop around Bowie's story, embellishing where he wishes and changing things as he sees fit, to tell us a story of being true to yourself, in particular - your sexual self, and enjoying life to the utmost. Along the way, in addition to Johnathan Rhys-Meyers representing Bowie as Brian Slade, there are characters meant to represent Angela Bowie, Leslie Conn, Tony DeFries (Eddie Izzard), Iggy Pop (Ewan MacGregor), Marc Bolan, Cherry Vanilla, and more of Bowie's sphere. Then, Haynes brings himself to the story, in the character of a journalist named Arthur Stewart played by Christain Bale
What can be said? Again, if you ain't a fan of the whole scene, forget it. It will be meaningless tripe to you. Those of us in the know, love it. Haynes pops out all kinds of great stuff: Bowie in his folk rock phase, Bowie in his "man dress," Bowie announcing his bisexuality to the press, Iggy dropping his pants while performing on stage, the conception of the term "Mainman," the retreat to Berlin, Bowie's retirement announcement at the Hammersmith-Odeon, Iggy recording the "Raw Power" album, Bowie performing fellatio on Mick Ronson's strat, and on and on. It's like a documentary. But Haynes makes it one better introducing a romance between Bowie and Pop and by throwing homosexuality into the mix whenever possible.
The whole film is beautiful to watch. The 70's look like a candy colored rainbow (as the were). The glam rock boys with their fey posturing pour from the screen like sweet pink lemonade. It's spellbinding. His use of brilliant colors and his perfect use of period props make for wonderful moments. One of the finest moments in the film comes when the journalist, as a teen in the 70's, brings home his first Brian Slade record. Inspired by the gatefold of "Aladdin Sane," this record has Rhys-Meyers posed dramatically wearing almost nothing. His lithe skin pours out of a velvet drape wrapped seductively around his frame. You can practically smell the vinyl and the glossy sleeve. The teenage Arthur has no choice, it seems, but to *** furiously to this image.
Visually, Haynes also pays playful homage to himself with a scene which is acted out with Barbie dolls representing Brian and Kurt. Haynes' first film (now out of print thanks to a "Cease and Desist" from brother Richard) was the story of Karen Carpenter played out by Barbie dolls. Haynes wisely juxtaposes all of this glamour with the drab colorlessness of the 80's as the story fluctuates between the two eras. This film is a visual feast. The 70's perfectly represented by the brightest of hues and the 80's seen as all gray, black and washed out red.
If there is any problem with the film it is in the use of "new music" on the score. Haynes uses several glam rock anthems throughout the film, drudging up everyone from Roxy Music to Gary Glitter, but not a note of Bowie's music can be heard on the film's soundtrack. The one once known as Ziggy refused, he claims, because Haynes wanted to use too many of his songs. So he allowed use of none. Bowie fans know this is bull-oney. Bowie has turned his back on the public sexual outrageousness of his youth, claiming it to be anything from a phase to a publicity stunt. Haynes' film uses this as it's sharpest dagger. The film is about a rock star who kills himself, his persona, out of fear, hurt, sexual rejection and shame. This is Bowie pure and simple. Why would the man allow his music to be used in a film which blatantly says he has sold out his own true identity. Who is the real Bowie? Is the real Bowie someone who would sell out his sexual past?
So Haynes must come up with new music to fill in the empty spaces. And, for the most part, it is pretty unlikely. Most of the songs use phrases and poetics quite unlike Bowie's usual ilk. Surely there is someone around who could come up with a few tunes in the style of Bowie's 70's mode? One of the worst of these songs has Rhys-Meyers having to mouth the term, "the whole shebang" several times. Uggh.
Still, Haynes is such a forthright and poetic filmmaker here this one problem barely deters us. Todd Haynes makes glam rock the apex of style and exalted existence. He makes David Bowie's story mythic. This is a love letter, a page of purple prose from a fan who loves the man and cannot help himself from asking the star why he threw it all away. Why Ziggy? Why?
In 1972, Bowie, as Ziggy Stardust, said it all: "When the kids had killed the man I had to break up the band..." By 1975, the party was over