Director Baz (Moulin Rouge!/The Great Gatsby '13/Jehanne d'Arc) Luhrmann, who brought us the Austin Butler mega-hit, Elvis, now gives us EPIC: Elvis in Concert.
EPIC is marketed as a documentary, and to a degree, it is just that: a document of Elvis Presley's charismatic moves and vocalizations, but then as most know, other sources have already touched upon such at great, adoring length: Elvis: That's the Way It Is, Elvis on Tour, This is Elvis, Elvis '56, Elvis: '68 Comeback Special, Elvis - Aloha Hawaii, Elvis Presley: From the Beginning to the End, He Touched Me: Elvis Presley, Elvis Home Movies, Elvis Presley Lives On, among others.
So, is Lurhmann's take a mere elongation of the aforementioned? Maybe, but not entirely. Like those mentioned movies, the director does incorporate behind-the-scenes and lead-in segments (many culled from the once lost reels of That's the Way It Is and Elvis on Tour) to bracket Presley's presiding stature (i.e. his humility, humor and dedication to his craft). However, the juxtaposing footage for this IMAX extravaganza creates a distinct, if not surreal structure, similar to Brett Morgen's David Bowie: Moonage Daydream, where the past flows into the future and back again (in this case, from rehearsal to concert to rehearsal...), building an ebbing tapestry of different phases that's more an overriding impression than what one would find in traditional documentaries.
Though EPIC is meant for IMAX projection, some footage does seem to slip from its promised, colossal proportions, but the unorthodox formatting isn't as jarring as one might think. If anything, the switching invokes a living-breathing scrapbook, which Presley's fans will appreciate, since many of them have constructed such compilations of their idol over the years, though this scrapbook is pasted by Elvis' actual words (and on occasion, intersected by the always omniscient Colonel Tom Parker).
The movie hits its real stride when Presley and his backup performers take full, cinematic charge about midway through the colorful procession. That means his face, his gyrations, his costumes become ubiquitous, as if the combination has been bestowed by a Mt. Olympus god or superhero (and we all know how much Presley appreciated Captain Marvel Jr.), who wishes to flaunt his sublime skills with his faithful admirers, whether they're Vegas gathered or viewing his feats from some unassuming grandstand. Simply put, Presley stuns one and all.
By the end, Presley's mesmerizing draw becomes all the more obvious in light of the below-average "musical" performances that are peddled as creme de la creme these days. If you don't believe me, check out the bulk of this year's bland, Grammy contenders. And what should appear to drive home this profound point? Ah, yes, EPIC!
Presley, in popularity and impact, isn't fading away, ever. That's been obvious since his death, which launched his legend to even higher heights. EPIC is but another entrenched case in point, and like Luhrmann's acclaimed, 2022 biopic, it proves that, while most performers tend to fade into obscurity, the King remains eternal.
