Don’t Be Cruel: A review of Elvis

MPAA Rating: PG-13
USCCB Rating: A-III
Reel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

When examining the life of a very popular or legendary figure, it is often best to look at him through the lens of a third-party observer. Thus, Baz Luhrmann’s new biopic on the King of Rock and Roll is told through the dying breath of Elvis Presley’s longtime manager Colonel Tom Parker. History has not been kind to Parker, and he knows it; he is desperate to convince the audience he is not “the villain of this story.”

What emerges is a mostly linear but always exuberant look at one of the great pop culture figures in American history. It’s not always pretty but it is always impressive.

Elvis Presley (Austin Butler) grew up in a poor Mississippi neighborhood where most of his friends were black Southern Baptists. As a child, he loved music, gospel revivals, and comic books. Parker (Tom Hanks) was a low rent P.T. Barnum, collecting various circus acts in a traveling show, when he came by Elvis singing locally with his family. He immediately recognized the potential and convinced the impressionable youth to let him manage Elvis’s career – for a healthy cut of the profits. Things move quickly as Elvis becomes the most successful solo musical artist of all time.

At first, Parker encourages Elvis’ creativity and indeed exposes him to the larger world. However, he quickly becomes exploitative, choosing easy, lucrative projects – no matter how inane – over vibrant opportunities to explore musical talent. Elvis starts to rebel, but far too late as he descends into a spiral of drugs, sex, and despair, all leading to his premature death at forty-two.

Baz Luhrmann is one of the most distinctive directors working in Hollywood whose style is so unique it almost constitutes its own genre. He relishes in excessive attention to lavish mise-en-scene including costumes, sound, art direction, camera movement, makeup, editing, and lighting. This loud and deliberate style was almost tailored made to Elvis, who wore huge sunglasses at night and gave away solid gold necklaces to perfect strangers. Especially during the musical performances, the camera dances around freely, colors flash vibrantly, and extreme close-ups are juxtaposed with huge wide shots. Yet during the more intimate scenes, Luhrmann becomes subtle and less ostentatious, underlining the tension between his lavish lifestyle and desire for spiritual wholeness and family life.

Initially, Elvis just wanted to sing what made him happy. He wanted fame and money, but just enough to live well for himself, his momma, his wife, and his daughter. Yet the trappings of success – the worst drug – were too much. This is one of the oldest cliches, but rings genuine as Elvis’ life is one of the most prominent case studies. He led an incredibly sad life, and it seems a miracle that he was able to produce such a large amount of incredible music through it. Yet suffering is often the impetus for creative expression. As the rabbi Abraham Heschel says, “the man who hasn’t suffered – what could he possibly know?”

Elvis’ spiritual life is an interesting topic, and it gets a few mentions here, although less than I had hoped. He clearly loved God and believed he had a divine purpose. This seems to be rooted in his birth, as his twin brother was stillborn minutes before he was delivered. “God gave you two hearts,” his mother tells him. There’s a prominent scene early in Elvis’ life in which he encounters a Black Pentecostal revival. Enthralled, he enters the tent, beginning to shake and dance. “Don’t stop him,” the pastor yells, “the Spirit is with him.” This experience is juxtaposed with a couple gyrating to blues music, later imitated by Elvis’ famous hip thrusting.

There is a danger for blasphemy here. It would be easy to take a Freudian interpretation that sees religious fervor as a socially acceptable way to release sexual energy. Yet there is also a legitimate theological connection. Both sexual and spiritual ecstasy are ways of getting outside ourselves, freely giving our essence to another “in mutual love…a compound of sense and spirit” (Humanae Vitae). It’s hard, however, to see this in a culture tainted by both Puritan censorship and pagan excess. Elvis provides a surprising but worthwhile insight into how art, even through romantic expression, can lead our eyes Heavenward.

The film ends with Elvis’ famous last performance, and it perfectly sums up his life. Weeks before his death, Elvis is fat, racked with pain, and desperately sad – significantly caused by the cruelty of his manager. Yet, he takes the suffering and sings a beautiful rendition of “Unchained Melody.” His body was chained, but soul was still flying high. Hopefully, he is singing with the true King today.