Questar
Home Video | Review by Dan Taylor
Each
generation has its own "Where were
you when?". In the 60s it was the assassination
of JFK and the murder of Lee Harvey Oswald.
I suppose kids today will talk about the
death of Princess Di, though I can't for
the life of me figure why. For those of
us who were mired in adolescene during the
mid-1970s, the best we can do is the death
of The King of Rock & Roll.
I know where I was the day
of Elvis' death -- Tenby Chase Swim Club
for you Danté Trivia Fiends -- but
I don't remember caring. It was 1977 and
I was an 11-year-old into the likes of Kiss,
the Kinks, David Bowie, Hall & Oates
and the little bit of Frank Zappa that my
brother smuggled to me on cassette tapes.
Elvis was a fat hillbilly who appealed to
blue-haired old ladies, thrust his lumpy
body through a couple "kung-fu"
moves, made bad movies and had ferocious
sweat glands.
Years later I "discovered"
Elvis, starting with the Kitsch-Factor.
I knew most kids in my school didn't know
CLAMBAKE, SPEEDWAY, or A CHANGE OF HABIT,
so I started watching the flicks during
the early days of cable. Pretty soon, I
had key Elvis facts down pat and could pepper
my classroom conversation with them.
I was well on the way to becoming
Mr. Pop Culture.
But it wasn't until college
that I discovered his music. A growing interest
in rockabilly pushed me in Elvis' direction,
and I learned how subversive this frickin'
hillbilly had been. Pretty soon I was pouring
through his albums at the radio station,
mixing in "Devil in Disguise"
or "I Got Stung" with the latest
from the DK's and Replacements. Fact of
the matter was, fuck, this cat could sing.
I got ELVIS: THE GREAT PERFORMANCES
from a friend where I freelanced. His tastes
run more towards country, but we've found
plenty of common ground with the likes of
Soul Asylum, the aforementioned Mats, the
Hüskers, and more recent groups like
Whiskeytown. The tape's pretty good, though
I assume it's a little dated judging from
Priscilla's haircut and wardrobe (plus an
interview with Sam Phillips...isn't he dead?!).
Nicely chronological, the
tape works its way through E's career with
plenty of footage, some of it quite rare.
I know, 'cause I'm a big fan of E specials,
and I'd never seen things like his 1956
appearance on the 'Milton Berle Show' (where
he performs on a battleship) or his screen
test for Paramount. (Speaking of 'Screen
Tests,' does anyone remember that show with
Don Adams? Man, I loved that! It was the
'Star Search' of its day...somebody should
bring that back!)
Watching this footage it's
hard to imagine the fuss that E's gyrating
hips and image caused, but his charisma
and appeal are undeniable. What's truly
sad is watching the slide that begins with
the historic '1968 Comeback Special'. That
was the Elvis I'd like to remember, looking
like he's having fun despite the fact that
all the elements for his downfall were already
in place (horns, backup singers, etc.).
One can only wonder what was going on in
his mind during the Vegas Years, especially
the sad, pathetic concert footage shot eight
weeks before his death.
A great special, and an even
greater cautionary tale on the price of
fame. Especially if you're a redneck truck
driver that was probably having sex with
your mother (either literally or figuratively).
