“All people no matter who they are, they all wish they’d appreciated life more. It’s what you do in life that’s important not how much time you have and what you wish you’d done.”
-David Bowie
Moonage Daydream is the unusual music documentary in that it’s not terribly interested in the biography or timeline of its’ subject. Director Brett Morgen doesn’t want to tell the story, beginning to end, of the great David Bowie in a conventional manner that would reveal little more than reading a wikipedia bio. No, what he’s interested in is who David Bowie was in his own words. And so his movie dispenses with any formal documentary structure: no framing device, no interviews with those who knew him, no disingenuous narrative arc imposed. Instead he presents an intoxicating kaleidoscopic journey through Bowie’s career utilizing only archive footage, interview clips, and other like primary sources -some never before seen- interspersed with a cacophony of reference points to his varied inspirations or trains of thought and imagery of cosmic beauty which had always been a vital element of his otherworldly aesthetic. Blended together, it is an evocative piece of art, revealing and enigmatic in its’ approach to Bowie and his unique place in history.
This film is notable in being the first movie produced with permission of the Bowie estate –which means that unlike that awful biopic Starman, it can actually use full versions of his songs. And it does so, Bowie’s music of course providing the soundtrack for the entire picture, starting with a live and energized performance of “All the Young Dudes” in the 1970s and ending on “Starman” sometime in the 2000s. The songs colour the movies’ atmosphere in a way that might be Morgen making an auteur claim to Bowie’s body of work. For as strange and diverse as it was, it all can be imbued with a transcendent dreamlike quality that accentuates Bowie’s own thoughts on life and the universe. Of course the premise of the movie itself is operating under a certain degree of authorship applied to Bowie, as it follows him into other artistic pursuits that compelled and challenged him. But while the music is there, it is not in much of a sense a focus. Nowhere does the movie delve into Bowie’s creative process behind his songs or follow his hits in much more than a loosely chronological way. The music behind his fame and identity is treated as a given. And because of this films’ unique structure, based entirely around Bowie’s own accounts and comments, its’ fascinating that little is gleaned of him directly talking about his songs.
Rather it is notions around image and transformation that seem to dominate the interviews and artistic, existential ideas that come from his own musings. If there is a three-act structure to the movie it seems to be divided between his early glam rock superstar days -the Ziggy Stardust phenomenon, his Berlin period and exploration of other arts, and his return to the mainstream in the 80s as a more refined artist. But these periods intersect with one another, always a part of him and his personal drive. His awe of paintings began in childhood, likewise his love of literature and movies and the expressive possibilities of all mediums. His efforts to experience them thus come with no sense of indulgence but as a genuine pursuit of self-discovery. To some level he seems as compelled with his own enigma as we are. The clips we see of him in these endeavours or travelling in solitude, stripped of any persona and often to meditative quotes on his experiences, open up new facets of the man. One moment I found particularly interesting was how one of his paintings that seemed to depict a boy at a country house bore an astonishing resemblance to a scene out of Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence, which he would film a few years later. In general, the doc doesn’t much touch on his film career, which is a disappointment, although moments from his filmography do get incorporated into the greater miasma of cultural hallmarks displayed.
Bowie’s voice weaves in and out of the movie with that calming, thoughtful air so indicative of his character, and the character the movie attributes to him. But it’s clear from his early days to his final years, the big questions were on his mind, and Morgen takes them seriously –opening with a quote from 2002 in which Bowie mused on the famous Nietzschean proverb of “God is dead and men have killed him” by turning it inward. The matter of what could take the place of God within us is something he speculated on, and one can only assume concluded that art is the answer. But even with all of his artistic success, he still sought to question, discover, experiment. He identified as bisexual in an interview with Michael Parkinson in the early 1970s –and while his sexuality has ultimately been debatable, his open curiosity was something wonderfully audacious. In this interview he is glammed up perfectly as well, in gaudy spotted coat and trousers, bright long orange hair, notably yellow teeth and fancy earrings. The presentation is part of the act but with the documentary’s eye it is also this clear mode of expression –Bowie experimenting with who he is, what he is capable of. He seems to have been as driven by this compulsion as by his greater curiosities in art and life.
It is only fitting that the documentary is just as thrilled by experimentation of form as Bowie was, immersive and edited with exceptional potency by Morgen himself. He crafts the movie as a beautiful collage of not only Bowie’s life, but those things that informed it and were likewise reflected by his art. The presentation of footage of concerts in radiant hues without the Peter Jackson effort to revitalize their quality, and in careful juxtaposition has a deep effect. There’s a certain soulful ambience to it of a kind I’ve never seen in a documentary before –genuinely conveying the feeling a lot of the time that you are in Bowie’s head-space. One part of the movie, consciously or not an aspect of this perspective and that is almost a bookend, is comprised of new film footage: a woman on some barren moon discovering the body of an astronaut –an allusion to Major Tom most likely. It is both haunting and oddly comforting, as though one of Bowie’s alter egos is being found and whisked away.
Even six years later, his death hangs over the movie and is sombrely felt. But there is a sense of serenity with how it is treated. The last moments of the film don’t stick in a performance or single moment –rather montages are followed up by cosmic imagery. He is a part of the cosmos now if not in a spiritual sense than in that of his legacy. But he would leave encouraging us to discover ourselves in our art and our world, so to better live our lives fully. It’s what he did.
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