Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars - The Motion
Picture (1973/1982)
"Concerts
are easy to shoot. If it's a good show, it's a good
film. But I felt that there were very few performers
who could hold up for 90 minutes. Not that they aren't
good enough. It's just that you lose something moving
from live concert to film." -D.A. Pennebaker - in
Jerry Hopkins' book, "Bowie" (1985)
"I wasn't
at all surprised that 'Ziggy Stardust' made my career.
I packaged a totally credible plastic rock star -
much better than any sort of 'Monkees' fabrication.
My plastic rocker was much more plastic than anybody's."
-David Bowie
Director Pennebaker was right. You
do lose something moving from concert stage to film.
With the "Ziggy Stardust" concert movie, Pennebaker
loses almost everything. There is almost nothing here
to like. The film is slow and dull, the recording
is very sub-standard (audibly and visually), and the
excitement all but evaporates into the ether.
Bowie's concoction, Ziggy Stardust,
was a superstar. A seemingly gigantic, ambisexual,
spaceman rocker who swooped down on the teenage rock
kids of the early 70's and grasped them in his sweet,
hot talons. Bowie held them firmly in his grasp until
he totally and ceremoniously abandoned them in 1975
with the release of his "blue-eyed, plastic soul"
album, "Young Americans."
By 1972, Bowie had been ambling around
England's music scene for about 8 years. His first
single, a R&B throw-away called "Liza Jane," had been
released in 1964. Bowie had dabbled in folk, hard
rock, cabaret, mime and pop. Then, in 1972 he recorded
the "Ziggy" album and began one of the most elaborate
cons ever perpetrated on the record-buying public.
He became a Superstar by simply pretending he was
a Superstar. The kids bought it and ate it up like
penny-candy. The most clear perspective on what Bowie
did can be found in Carr and Murray's "Bowie: An Illustrated
Record" book, where the authors state: "How else can
you discover precisely what rock and roll superstardom
is like without actually going out and becoming a
superstar? If by some fluke or fate it had backfired
- and nobody less gifted than Bowie could have brought
it off - it would have been the most embarrassing
personal disaster in the history of the music industry."
Indeed, Bowie brought it off with flying colors.
By July of 1973, Bowie had released
"Ziggy's" follow-up LP, "Aladdin Sane," and seen much
of his past work, some of it quite embarrassing to
him just a few years later, re- released for the record-buying
masses to gobble up. The last show of the "Ziggy"
tour was July 3, 1973, at London's Hammersmith Odeon.
Bowie, along with his production company's (Mainman)
mastermind - Tony DeFries, decided to record the concert
for a live album release. They also invited director
D.A. Pennebaker to film the event. However, the live
album and film didn't see the light of day until 1982,
held up by their obvious substandard quality and by
a huge legal battle between Bowie and DeFries that
found them parting company. The film was released
by Miramax and the live album was simply referred
to as the soundtrack.
The film starts with the word "Bowie"
travelling across the screen. We get tons of credits
where Mainman and Pennebaker are mentioned several
times and then the screen suddenly shows us the face
of Bowie, plain and unadorned, as he sits backstage
at the Odeon awaiting minions to dress him and put
on his make-up.
A girl comes in with a telex from Cherry
(Vanilla), Bowie's American press secretary, to Tony
(DeFries). Bowie reads it and announces, "It's all
in code. I didn't know we did business in code." This
is particularly amusing when one knows it was Vanilla's
job to make up stories about Bowie and get them published
as often as possible. The disinformation Vanilla and
her cohorts came up with moved from the ridiculous
to the sublime. One of their best lies: Bowie was
going to star in a screen version of Heinlein's "Stranger
in a Strange Land." Odd in that it foreshadows Bowie's
appearance in Nicolas Roeg's "The Man who Fell to
Earth." (By the way, Vanilla and her crew were hired
after Bowie met them when they worked for Andy Warhol.
Most of them were actors who had been in Warhol's
stage play "Pork.") Bowie, indeed, did business in
code.
Next, Bowie's then-wife Angela enters
to rave on and on cutely about all the limos outside.
The make-up men discuss cosmetics with the Bowies
and David delivers the marvellously campy line (to
Angie): "You're just a girl; what do you know about
make-up?" It's the only amusing moment in the film.
We get some obligatory fan shots outside
the hall: Kids dressed up in make-up, glam clothes
and huge platform shoes, and then we move inside.
Bowie kicks off the show with "Hang on to Yourself."
The song's audio quality is horrendous, worse than
any bootleg even. The problems continue throughout
"Ziggy Stardust" and "Watch That Man." Then, as Bowie
begins a medley of some older songs (the less embarrassing
ones), the sound problems magically disappear. They
remain fairly acceptable for the rest of the show.
Bowie goes through 4 (count 'em) costume
changes throughout the show and occasionally we are
allowed backstage to witness them. It's only slightly
interesting. Most of these costumes have been seen
in numerous photos from those years anyway. The costumes
are designed by Bowie's friend Freddie Burretti and
Kansai. His make-up is designed by Pierre LaRoche.
The Spiders back Bowie with little
panache. Mick Ronson only tries to work his magic
when he performs solos so that Bowie can change costumes.
He has a wonderful time with "Moonage Daydream," but
all-in-all the lousy recording quality and his own
seeming laziness defeat him. At least Ronno gets some
close-ups. The camera almost always ignores Trevor
Bolder (bass) and Woody Woodmansy (drums). Bowie is
the star here. And like many concerts, some musicians
are behind the scenes. Some of them listed in the
end credits include Geoffrey "Mac" MacCormack (back-up
vocals), Mike Garson (you can hear his jazzy piano
riffs predominating several tunes), and - oddly -
John Hutchinson. "Hutch" played in a band called Feathers
with Bowie and his then-lover Hermoine Farthingale.
Hutch usually played bass. I don't have any idea what
he's doing here.
Pennebaker had made numerous rock films
before. He made "Don't Look Back" with Bob Dylan in
1967, "Keep on Rockin'" with Jerry Lee Lewis and Little
Richard in 1969, and had been one of the main forces
behind the "Montery Pop" document also in 1969. Bowie
wanted Pennebaker's cinema verite' style for his concert
film. Usually the style fails everyone involved here.
The most interesting moments in "Ziggy - the Movie"
are when Pennebaker focuses his camera on the audience
and the kid's shimmering faces are intermittently
exposed by the flicker of the flashing strobe lights.
This is when we really see something about what is
going on here. The concert isn't about Bowie at all,
really; it's about the fans. This idea is never more
apparent than when Bowie, accompanied only by his
own acoustic guitar, sings Jacques Brel's haunting
"My Death." The 6 minute opus has Bowie crooning "My
Death waits for me like an open door, but in front
of that door there is you." When Bowie reaches the
end of the song and begins his grandiose delivery
of this line he only gets to "in front of the door...
there is..." when a fan interrupts him shouting "Me"
before Bowie can sing the last word. Then a chorus
of "Me, me, me" fills the auditorium. "Thank you"
Bowie says and smiles, exiting as the crowd roars.
The audience had stolen the show by sacrificing themselves
up to their Superstar.
When we cut to Bowie backstage immediately
after this, he radiantly describes it to his entourage.
Whereas many artists might have been mad that the
audience interrupted a grand interpretation of a song,
Bowie is elated. It is a magical moment and an insight
into Bowie's true persona at the time. For the only
time in the film we see Bowie and not Ziggy.
Content-wise, the film doesn't give
us everything we want from the concert. We don't get
to see Bowie bow down to Ronno and lick the guitar
god's strat (feigning oral sex). This was one of Ziggy's
trademarks of the time but it is no where to be found
here. Jeff Beck had also appeared at the concert with
Bowie, sitting in on "Jean Genie" and "Love Me Do."
This appearance is not in the film. But all is not
lost, we do get the definitive moment from the concert.
Called back for a second encore, Bowie
steps up to the mike and quiets the crowd. He looks
at the kids and says: "This show will stay in our
memories the longest." The audience cheers. Then Bowie
slaps them, "This show will stay the longest in our
memories, not just because it's the end of the tour,
because it's the last show we'll ever do." Stunned
silence envelops the room as Ronno and the Spiders
rip into "Rock 'N' Roll Suicide."
When the kids had killed the man, I
had to break up the band.
End credits.
"Ziggy - The Movie" is for fans only.
There is nothing here for the uninitiated.
Notes:
The complete track list from the concert
film: Hang on to Yourself Ziggy Stardust Watch that
Man Medley: Wild Eyed Boy from Freecloud/All the Young
Dudes/ Oh! You Pretty Things Moonage Daydream Changes
Space Oddity My Death Cracked Actor Time Width of
a Circle Let's Spend the Night Together (Rolling Stones
cover) Suffragette City White Light, White Heat (Velvet
Underground cover) Rock 'N' Roll Suicide
In 1993, Pennebaker released his film
"The War Room" a documentary which chronicled Bill
Clinton's campaign for President in 1992.
Re-released theatrically in 2002 in
a remastered form.
Viewed in 1994 on VHS tape.
