52 Pick-Up # 31 – Velvet Goldmine (1998)

Welcome back to 52 Pick Up.

First up, I'd like to extend an apology for the delay on this one. This summer has had some unexpectedly busy spikes off and on, particularly as planning with family went and it wound up catching up with me.

With that said, consider this the start of a catch up run of multiple entries in short succession to get back up to speed.

So, without further ado...

I had considered a number of tasteful ways to start this entry up.

Considered, and then realized I couldn't not do this instead - 

Well, Uncharted Waters is over. It's been a good run. But though the John Waters films may be done in this project, their spirit lives on in other filmmakers' ambition, creativity, and in cases such as today's full frontal nudity.

I know, that's not the primary point for this movie. In fact, there's a lot to recommend in this movie in general. This is just one where I had to make some joking acknowledgment of this, given how several people, including my wife who referred to herself as a 'pervert gremlin teenager' (her words) came to this movie – the promise of being part of Ewan McGregor's early cinematic reputation for dropping trou.

I'm sure there's a weirder way to set up that this week's entry is for Todd Haynes's Velvet Goldmine, but damned if I know it.

But, as I said before, this is a movie that has a lot more going for it beyond the notable celebrity nudity, though if that's your thing, yes, it is here. For my part, as someone who had known Haynes before this for his Sirk-coded Far From Heaven and 2023's May December, the idea of him taking on the glam rock era had me intrigued. It also has me realizing I need to see more of his movies, but that's for another time.

For today, let's get to the pitch.

The movie starts us with an introduction to the very theatrical (and yes, very David Bowie-coded) glam rock artist Brian Slade (Jonathan Rhys Meyers) an artist on a meteoric rise that culminated one night at a fateful concert where he predicted he would be assassinated. From there, the movie jumps in time and perspective to the 1980s and journalist Arthur (Christian Bale), a man who was among those following the glam movement Slade was part of – so much so that he witnessed the notorious concert in the prologue, where the attack was revealed to be a staged publicity stunt that effectively destroyed Slade's career. Years later, Arthur has been given an assignment to try and find out just what happened to the embattled singer following his disappearance from public life. What follows is a movie very much in a vein akin to Citizen Kane, as Arthur learns more of the story of the real Slade from the singer's ex-wife (Toni Collette) and his manager (Michael Feast.)

In terms of what stuck out for me, the Kane comparison was a big point – less so for the parts that are similar as the areas where Haynes differs and how that works to this movie's benefit. Both start, as established above, in a similar area – a fictional figure of fame overtly inspired by a real life individual (in this movie's case, Haynes takes from a number of artists for inspiration for Slade, but Bowie is easily one of the biggest, additionally Ewan McGregor is playing a role who is an amalgamation of Iggy Pop and Lou Reed) and hang a mystery over them that drives the story. Said protagonist slowly pieces together the famous person's life from those who knew the person directly, peeling back the celebrity story for the complicated, messy figure underneath. From this point, Haynes makes two particular deviations from what Welles did before (and I should give a heads-up, one of these will get into a spoiler, I will mark accordingly.)

The most pronounced split in this case comes in the form of the investigative figure, Arthur. In the case of Kane, the reporter is ultimately a framing figure. He's the one tasked with solving the mystery of Rosebud, but the story itself starts and ends with Charles Foster Kane. The reporter is there to get people talking about the man beyond the newsreels. In the case of Velvet Goldmine, Haynes makes this story as much about Arthur as it is about Slade. In fact, the movie even starts from the premise of their journeys being intertwined in the decision to introduce us to Arthur on the night of the fateful concert that sent Slade into self-imposed exile. As Arthur digs into the story, we are also treated to flashbacks into his own life and how his own interest in Slade led him to the concert that changed it all. In particular, we see how the advent of the glam rock scene became a sexual awakening for Arthur, eventually leading to him leaving his past behind and finding himself through the music. That their connection comes to a head on the fateful night that destroyed Slade's career even adding to it in a way as a sort of 'rising and falling' contrast. Granted, one can't quite call Arthur's trajectory a rise on the level of Slade's, but as he comes more into his own, it still works. Especially for the part that comes next.

Because, like many of my generation, my brain is wired for
The Simpsons quotes:
"He's not dead!"
"No, but his career is."

Okay, here's something I haven't had to do in a while, but like I said above, there was a bit of a spoiler point. I had considered how to write around this, but there was no way to really do it without becoming maddeningly vague, so I'm just gonna go for it. For those who've seen the movie or don't mind the spoilers, read on. For those who haven't and are interested but don't want the spoiler, just scroll down till you see...well, I can't show you McGregor letting it hang out, but I can at least give you the lead-in. Then you can tag back in.

Okay?

Okay.

So, going on the idea of the compare and contrast with Arthur and Slade, there is one particular detail that really stuck out to me, even more so as I wrote this out. This is referring to the movie's final reveal – Arthur discovers that, following his exile in disgrace, Slade returned to the music scene with a new name and face – as a conservative pop idol by the name of Tommy Stone. This in itself is already one Hell of a reveal just as far as Slade's story goes, both for the question of if this complete 180 was simply the one way he could come back without any suspicion or, much more likely, the question of how much of the Brian Slade figure was a case of a chameleon adjusting himself to the needs of his art and career and Tommy Stone is just the latest cynical development of this. It's an interesting question, particularly with regards to Arthur and the one figure in particular who links him to Slade more than anyone else – McGregor's Curt Wild. Playing off the question of Slade's authenticity, Wild serves as another sort of counter figure – a man incredibly at peace with who he is and what he does and, as pertains to this, who he loves.

Both Slade and Arthur have life changing encounters with Wild. While Slade's is the longer relationship, it's also the more erratic, with the breakup marking the beginning of the end of his career career. By comparison, Arthur only has one night with Wild, but it is presented as not a flashy affair, but a moment of genuine emotional connection as well as physical – Wild makes Arthur feel seen, validated on a whole other level than he did as a fan of Slade, and even though they only have that one encounter, it further lends to the idea of this chapter in Arthur's life being where he truly discovers himself.

Again, going back to the rise and fall, it is interesting how Wild inadvertently helps usher the destruction of one personality in one man and then helps the other come into his own. It also helps add to the ending for me in the light of the Tommy Stone revelation. Yes, the implication is that Slade sold out the ideals that he helped to define in the 70s in exchange for getting back into the limelight. At the same time, this doesn't make a bitter or cynical end for Arthur, because even as Slade the person is compromised, it doesn't diminish the impact his music had on Arthur and helping him figure himself out.

Okay, everyone back in.

Saying I was pleasantly surprised by this is an understatement. Like I said above, I came into this for the glam rock and overall good past experiences with Todd Haynes movies. Even with that bar, I really was taken with how what this movie did, particularly with the ideas of the art, the artist, and how both can influence people. There's a lot to unpack here, and I feel like I'll be coming back to this one down the line, and I'm glad I gave it a shot.

I'm also adding some other Haynes titles that I'd been putting off on this list as well, so let's see if any of them come up in the months ahead.

But, like I said up top, it's time for the end of summer catch up as I intend to get everything up to speed in time for September, so other next title is coming up fast on the heels of this.

We're taking a major shift next time in era, themes, and language here. I'm coming back to a director I first crossed paths with during an earlier write-up run here a few years back. Part of me would be tempted to leave that as a hint, but I feel like the turnaround is too short and, frankly, it would be breaking format here, so let's just say it.

I'll be back here real soon with Ousmane Sembène's 1968 follow-up to Black Girl, Mandabi.

Till then