If you walk into Baz Luhrmann's Elvis expecting a thoughtful biopic about The King of Rock and Roll, you'll be left sorely disappointed.
What you will be delivered is a movie designed to take threads from musical history and weave them together in a never-ending sensory overload, an experience that feels equal parts suffocating yet extremely compelling.
But if you're a fan of Baz's back catalogue, from the sublime Strictly Ballroom and Romeo + Juliet to the less well-received Australia and The Great Gatsby, it will come as no surprise to you that Elvis is an explosion of colour, lights and scenes changes that are reminiscent of Alice in Wonderland on acid.
Instead of tracing the star's life and career directly from his teenage years in Memphis to his explosion onto the music scene, his Hollywood years, and his turbulent love life, Elvis only gives chaotic glances into his world.
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A large portion of the film is devoted to the tale of his scheming long-time manager “Colonel” Tom Parker.
The Colonel is portrayed as the film's unreliable narrator, a con-man who latches onto a young Elvis on the brink of his career and then works him into the ground over decades in order to pay off his own debts. A man who also feverishly maintains, as we learn from the hospital bed scenes at the end of his life, that he is not responsible for the tragedy that Elvi's life turned out to be.
Framing so much of Elvis around the plot of The Colonel is an impressive gamble, but one that doesn't pay off when you see the final cut. What could have been a darkly interesting insight into the man who destroyed The King peters off into a cartoonish villain, an eye-rolling fat suit lumped upon Tom Hanks in one of the most forgettable roles of his career.