Elvis is Baz Luhrmann’s biopic of Elvis Presley and it’s cradle to grave but told at such a gallop you’ll be willing it to stay put even if it’s just for two minutes. You may even be begging: Baz, come on, just hold still. But no, we’re off again. I’ve had fever dreams that have been less delirious. But on the plus side, even if it’s never deep or enlightening, it has a fizzing energy, and because it doesn’t dwell on anything, we don’t dwell on fat, sad Elvis at the end. Which is a relief.
The film opens as it means to go on. That is, flashily. Even the Warner Brothers logo (WB) is sparklingly rhinestoned. The framing device is Elvis’s manager Colonel Tom Parker, played by Tom Hanks with a horrific combover, a ton of padding, and those big trousers Robert Maxwell used to wear, and Ian Paisley too.
