Who murdered Elvis Presley? Was it the medication, the excessive workload, or the hamburgers delivered by air? Or was it his unhealthy connection with Colonel Tom Parker, his clumsy manager? The new biography from Moulin Rouge! director Baz Luhrmann looks into all of it, although it mostly concentrates on the latter, offering us a greatest hits tour of the King’s life through his jailer’s perspective.
Who killed Elvis Presley? Was it the prescription medication, the excessive workload, or the hamburgers that were flown in from a distance? Or was it his troubled connection with his clumsy boss Colonel Tom Parker? The new biography from Moulin Rouge! director Baz Luhrmann looks into all of it, although it mainly concentrates on the latter, offering us a best-of tour of the King’s life through his jailer’s perspective.
This prologue is followed by a time jump to 1940s Mississippi. Elvis jumps through Presley’s impoverished beginnings in a quick-cut, glitzy montage scene that is classic Luhrmann. We learn about his difficult upbringing in a remote area, his intense love for gospel music, and his eventual relocation to Memphis. It slows down for a brief early performance that sets the tone and features shouting girls and scowling men (and introduces the hip-swiveling Austin Butler), but then picks up speed and covers the rise of Elvismania, his trip to Germany for national duty, and his marriage to Priscilla (Olivia DeJonge). As the movie progresses toward a terrible conclusion in Vegas, the focus shifts to Elvis’ Hollywood aspirations and ensuing financial difficulties.
Elvis serves as a much-needed lesson about American cultural history even if it appears to be a glamorous musical in the style of Bohemian Rhapsody. The celebrity interacts with some of his major influences in some of the best scenes, such as when Little Richard belts out “Tutti Frutti” in a seedy basement bar or when B.B. King offers him a peaceful haven and some wise counsel when the spotlight gets to be too much. Elvis owes his legacy to Black music, and Luhrmann makes care to mention as many of these rock and roll pioneers as possible, frequently with well-cast cameos (Big Mama Thornton, Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Arthur Crudup).
Naturally, this strong heritage filters through to the soundtrack, which boasts an almost festival line-up’s worth of modern chartbusters paying homage to Elvis and his predecessors. There’s all-conquering pop-rapper Doja Cat, who refits ‘Hound Dog’ with a fiery, trap-flavoured beat, as well as clever reworkings from the likes of Eminem, Kacey Musgraves, Stevie Nicks and even Euro-glam gladiators Måneskin. They aren’t strictly needed – Butler’s impressive vocals are worth a covers album on their own – but the modern sounds help freshen up a decades-old discography.
As with any biographical film, some incidents have to be omitted. We don’t get to witness much of Presley’s early career as he learned his trade; there is no meeting with The Beatles at his Bel-Air home; certain significant relationships are not shown. Perhaps this is due to Butler’s riveting performance as “Old Elvis.” He lies in his pitch-black, top-floor hotel suite, bloated from overindulgence, popping medicines to dull the ache and more to stay awake for those never-ending casino performances.
A emotional ending montage combines footage of Butler with Presley’s real performance, which was captured just before his passing. He has to have a helper hold the microphone as he plonks away at the piano because he is obviously drunk. Sadness dominates, yet oddly, admiration is also present. Elvis remained fully committed to performing for his fans even at his lowest points. Parker might still be performing right now if he had been that devoted.