Velvet Goldmine

I know….so little…about David Bowie and his whole scene, but I know about GLAMOUR and MELODRAMA, and from someone who signed in to this loopy queer rockstar wedding as a last minute guest of Bryan Ferry, whom I’d just met at an underground throwback cabaret singing smoky torch song versions of his art pop ’70s hits, I can only extrapolate what watching this must be like for the actual Bowie glitterati. Basically, wild. Wilde, also, apparently, as in Todd Haynes’ horny glam rock fantasia Oscar Wilde who was seemingly sent to our planet like some sort of Gay-El to bless us with a line of shimmering pop idols. I mean I probably only “got” about half of it, but I did love this dazzle-eyed Orson Wellsian music video of a movie, like I would.

If you would like to guess that the deliciously mysterious Jack Fairy floating through the story was my favorite character, be my guest as you would be correct. Later when I was reading up on the originals/influences on these characters I would have cause to search “young Brian Eno”, which was an additional gift Jack Fairy provided me. I enjoyed Jonathan Rhys Meyers’ alter ego Maxwell Demon more than his Brian Slade, which was probably the point. I just enjoy Ewan McGregor all the time, full stop. That man is always getting naked and grinning in movies and I respect that. Deeply surprised by Christian Bale in this, both because I didn’t know he was, and then when he wasn’t playing a morose journalist in the ’80s frame he turned into a crushingly needy and awkward young fanboy on the ’70s concert circuit, which I would never have expected was a role he had in him!

But the biggest surprise might have been later on Wikipedia, when I learned the band covering the Roxy Music songs was, to quote a skit from the sketch comedy group at my college with a similar plot point: “fucking Radiohead.” God what an outrageous project this movie was. Good show, everyone.

One thought on “Velvet Goldmine

  1. Pingback: My Own Private Idaho | Watch Log

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