Velvet Goldmine

I first learned of Todd Haynes with the release of his 2002 drama "Far from Heaven", starring Julianne Moore as a 1950s housewife who develops a relationship with her African-American gardener after discovering her husband kissing a man. It turned out that Haynes had been making movies for some years by that point, including 1998's "Velvet Goldmine". This Academy Award-nominated spectacle is a look at the glam rock era, with Christian Bale as a reporter trying to find out what became of a glam star from the early '70s. This movie has it all: drug use, orgies, sexual fluidity, and everything else that was characteristic of the era.

It's not a masterpiece, but damned if the cast members don't put their all into the roles. I recommend it, but mind you, this is NOT a fluffy, "Almost Famous"-style look at '70s music; there are some shocking things here.

A presumptuous movie that hasn't grown old well.

It could have been more bold or daring, but it is just sentimental and nostalgic in a strange way: I got the impression that the movie doesn't fully respect it's characters or their actions, which is not a problem if it creates a feeling of objective distance, but such detachment is broken by the sentimentalism: should we miss glam rock or laugh at it? The movie is about glam rock as a musical and a social movement, as an attitude, but the general tone is closer to an elegy than to a defense without actually being neither.

I liked the movie, though, specially Ewan McGregor and the performances by bands highly influenced by glam rock.

Even if I didn't think this movie was fantastic (which I do), I would have to be impressed with the incorporation of Oscar Wilde, his fascination with the decadence of pop culture, and his brilliant philosophies concerning art.

At the end of the film, when Arthur Stuart sits to have a drink with Curt Wylde (Oh look! A play on Oscar!, Wylde looks up and tells him that, "The true artist creates beautiful things, and puts none of his own life into them". This is one of the several scenes in which Oscar Wilde is referenced subtly, seamlessly and beautifully.

Curt is not simply Iggy Pop. He is Oscar Wilde. He is the true artist of the crowd, because he creates music without using the art as a form of autobiography.

Brian Slade is Dorian Gray. He invests all of his persona into the public, and into his songs, trapping himself in an expectation. The alter-ego Maxwell Demon is eternal youth. It is the embodiment of Slade in a single moment. Unfortunately, he traps himself, and leaves no room for growth. The shooting accomplishes two things. Slade arranging this pseudo-murder is Dorian gray destroying his portrait. At first Dorian was intrigued, even excited by the changes he saw in the painting. Then it began to wear on him. So with Slade/ Demon. The hoax liberates Slade the way death does Gray. Also, This secures Maxwell Demon a place in history. Brian Slade was a pop-star who was too controversial and too personally naked in his work to have any real longevity. The hype would have faded, and if he changed or grew as a person, that would have meant changing everything about his art (as they were so interlocked) and would have led to cries of "sell out". Either way, he would have faded out and been likely forgotten (the way Britney Spears will hopefully do one day). By enacting this faux death, Slade guarantees Maxwell Demon some form of eternal youth, trading in his career to do so (selling his soul).

There's more, as well. Jerry Devine, for instance, is Lord Henry. Mandy is Sybil Vane. They aren't exact, of course, and there are other veins running through them that make them unique, but one can see the influence.

Beautifully done, and a well paid tribute to the genius of Oscar Wilde!

I saw Goldmine years ago and it remains one of my favorites. Everything about this movie is amazing- from the music, to the costume and the actors.

Here we get a young Christian Bale as a struggling kid trying to grow up in the age of glam rock. The confusion of trying to be who you are and the confusion of trying to figure out who that person is, something that is understandable to anyone who has ever been a teenager. Like so many, he finds himself in music- that of Brian Slade. Meyers is outstanding as a lowly boy who makes it with the big boys. He plays the climb to fame brilliantly and the demise of glam rock with emotion. Toni Collette adds the flare that is necessary and shows the true strength in what a woman will do/put up with for love. She is a delight and she plays well with Meyers. Ewan McGregor is also terrific as Curt Wild, the perfect half to Slade's glam.

The music is what Goldmine is really all about. Meyers and McGregor sing some of the tunes themselves, but the addition of Radiohead's Thom Yorke to the mix as well as the boys from Placebo are an excellent addition to an already great soundtrack. Adding Lou Reed seems like over kill, but I'll take it- if there is anything that I learned from watching Goldmine many times- is that the bigger the better.

This is a great coming of age movie- it is a bit adult. There are heavy issues here such as drug abuse, alcoholism, adultery, homosexuality, orgies...be aware-

Todd Haynes' fantasy rethinking of an era in rock history, as a David Bowie-like singer in the early '70s burns out and disappears, and one of his most ardent young fans--now a music journalist--interviews friends and colleagues hoping to get at the truth. Past-and-present collage isn't given a very pointed treatment (once the narrative has gone a certain distance, a flashback dating back even further in time drains the immediacy out of the proceedings), though the design of the picture and the personalities involved are very colorful, as is the soundtrack, a mix of newly written tunes and classics. The U.K. truly got a colorful slice of the glam-rock era (as opposed to the U.S., which pretty much missed the boat--and the musical point), and the film, mostly set in England, nails that distinctive time and place with embracing accuracy. Haynes is also shrewd enough to remember the particular talents impersonated here were not the originators of the scene--that all musical trends date back, and nothing is ever truly original or lasts forever. The cast is uniformly excellent: sexy, decadent, kinetic, nervy. Haynes isn't a master of the outré (like, say, Ken Russell), but neither is he a junky or disrespectful filmmaker, and even in the lowest moments of their lives, this crazy collection of hedonists still look and sound pretty great. **1/2 from ****