Review: Moonage Daydream

Image courtesy of Neon.

Brett Morgen's "Moonage Daydream" is less your typical music bio documentary about an incredible artist and more an attempt to capture its subject's essence through sound and vision. As such, it's an almost otherworldly experience for much of its running time before settling into some more familiar documentary beats in the final 30 minutes. 

Personally, I preferred the original approach - which is an aural and visual feast of old movie clips, psychedelic imagery, David Bowie concert footage, archival stock footage of all manner of things and some images that border on the unexplainable and felt seared into my brain.

Morgen's approach is an ambitious one, but it makes sense. There are some artists that can't be explained through a simple talking head-style documentary in which we follow the rags-to-riches rise, fall and rebirth of a musician. Honestly, what would you prefer - people telling us what made Bowie unique or an absolute mindfuck of a movie set to the tune of some of his best music? I'm glad that Morgen chose the latter.

The film has less of a narrative structure than a stream of consciousness informed by images of Bowie dressed in outrageous outfits performing onstage as screaming fans wait for him outside of auditoriums, and visual clips of everything from his childhood to surreal visions and clips from both films in which he starred - Nicolas Roeg's essential "The Man Who Fell to Earth" and Nagisa Oshima's "Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence," for instance - to others than clearly influenced him (everyone from Bunuel and Bergman to Kubrick and "The Wizard of Oz" are visually name checked).

Rather than throwing around dates or seminal events, the story is mostly told in order by the music. Although it kicks off with a stunning montage to his lesser-known 1990s song "Hallo Spaceboy," the music of Bowie informs us as to which era we're in, whether it's his "Ziggy Stardust" and "Aladdin Sane" years, his groundbreaking work in Berlin - "Sound and Vision" makes a joyous appearance, and we get a terrific live version of his incredible "Heroes" - or his later, pop-influenced work in the 1980s.

For a movie that involves little talking about the artist by others, this is a film that actually unveils quite a bit about its subject. Interspersed throughout the phantasmagoric audio-visual onslaught are a handful of interviews in which Bowie tells us quite a bit about himself through suggestion - for instance, that his constant creation of work (music, film, painting, etc.) are a form of therapy, or that the outrageous personalities he created early in his career (Ziggy, Aladdin Sane) are extroverts providing cover for a deeply introverted person.

Bowie's nomadic nature - he travels, seemingly alone, to everywhere from Vietnam to Africa in search of artistic inspiration; and his much-vaunted stint in Berlin, which was meant to be a respite to kick a bad drug habit, resulted in some of his most groundbreaking work - is also of great interest. 

In the film's few interviews, Bowie notes that he wants to connect more with others but his obvious discomfort with revealing much about himself - always a wry interview subject, my favorite is when asked about his childhood, he notes it was "normal" and, when pressed for more detail, he says, "I went to school, I ate" -  speaks of a possible loneliness.

As I'd mentioned, the film's final quarter takes a more straightforward approach, ironically, as it covers his 1980s work, which was more commercial. We get brief mentions of his relationship with Iman and a clip of a commercial he did with Tina Turner - and this section of the film feels a little less daring than its previous sections. 

Regardless, "Moonage Daydream" is a fascinating and unique dive into the aura of one of rock 'n' roll's most original performers, songwriters and personalities. Much like Todd Haynes' remarkable Bob Dylan film, "I'm Not There," it understands that rather than try to explain an artist who can't be put into a box, it allows you to experience their essence and, as such, it's all the better for it.