Excellent Performances Buoy Predictable Nostalgic Ride Through Past in ‘The Bikeriders”

Excellent Performances Buoy Predictable Nostalgic Ride Through Past in ‘The Bikeriders”

By Alex McPherson

Richly atmospheric and suspenseful, yet frustratingly conventional, director Jeff Nichols’ “The Bikeriders” can’t quite connect its engaging performances and visceral thrills with a story that’s on the same level.

Nichols’ film is inspired by a book of the same name by acclaimed photographer Danny Lyon (a version of him is played here by Mike Faist). It begins in the mid-1960s and charts the story of the Vandals, a fictionalized Chicago motorcycle club of ragtag, chopper-loving misfits.

They come together to drink, fight, and assert dominance over their territory, like an idiosyncratic family that’s alternately affectionate and combative. As they ride down the open road, engines blasting in their ears, they’re in their own powerful element.

Led by the brooding and volatile Johnny (Tom Hardy), a truck driver and family man who was inspired to form the group after seeing Marlon Brando in “The Wild One,” the Vandals aren’t an outright “gang,” although threats of violence are ever-present if anyone’s ego is threatened.

Rather, they’re  like-minded souls looking for a sense of community and freedom from what mainstream society expects of them. They’re just willing to engage in the occasional beat down and destruction of property if the mood or situation calls for it.

Their makeshift brotherhood simultaneously satiates a need for togetherness and an outlet to embrace their (often misguided) sense of “manliness.” The rough-and-tumble crowd includes, among others, a mechanic named Cal (Boyd Holbrook), a perpetually drunk outcast named Zipco (Michael Shannon), and a man named Cockroach (Emory Cohen) who prides himself on eating bugs.

There’s also the tatted-up, enigmatic, and stereotypically handsome chap named Benny (Austin Butler), who mild-mannered Cathy (Jodie Comer) – the film’s narrator – falls for after stumbling into him and the Vandals at a local bar and marries soon after.

“The Bikeriders” largely unfolds through photographer Danny’s interviews with Cathy and various members of the Vandals. Cathy, with a sarcastic, amused, but exasperated attitude, brings us into the Vandals’ orbit as an outsider.

Through flashbacks, she takes us through her experiences from her initial lusty courtship with Benny, to the group’s evolution and de-evolution over time, as a new generation — partly symbolized by The Kid (a frighteningly effective Toby Wallace) —  threatens Johnny’s reign and risks transforming the Vandals into a different beast altogether. 

Cathy also battles with Johnny over Benny’s soul, as Benny (a wildcard prone to impulsive behaviors) is forced to choose between his life as a Vandal and his future with Cathy. All the while, Nichols presents a nostalgic vision of the past, attempting to help us empathize with a troubled but misunderstood group on the margins of American society.

Indeed, “The Bikeriders” tries to tackle quite a bit during its 116 minute runtime — perhaps too much for its own good. For all the immaculate scene-setting, compelling performances, and armrest-gripping moments of suspense, Nichols’ film is ultimately a surface-level portrait of its subjects. 

Despite this, however, the film is consistently entertaining, coasting on the strength of its performances and  “Goodfellas”-lite conceit to deliver scenes of smoke-filled machismo, camaraderie, and wry humor mixed with bursts of startlingly graphic violence that keeps us on our toes moment-to-moment. 

Julie Monroe’s editing is alternately breezy and jagged, reflecting the film’s juxtaposition of fantasy and reality, confidence and vulnerability — letting us sit in on exchanges that could go from peaceful to shocking at any given moment.

These scenes are counterbalanced by Kathy’s narration that finds absurdity, childishness, as well as poignancy in the Vandals’ efforts to maintain a semblance of control over not only their territory but their individual lives.

Nichols clearly has a reverence for the Vandals, but he’s careful to not overly romanticize them; their fierce dedication builds a group identity that’s both freeing and limiting, should they ever decide to leave.

The actors, across the board, take big swings that almost always pay off, barring some questionable accents that veer into cartoonish from time to time. Comer definitely goes for it, and while her performance will likely prove divisive, her delivery and narration is a good fit for Nichols’ screenplay, which buoys its darker edges with sarcastic humor that effectively takes the Vandals down to size. Cathy, naive though she sometimes is, takes no bullshit, and is willing to stand up to Johnny to fight for Benny’s safety.

Butler provides the bulk of the film’s eye-candy as Benny, portraying the film’s mysterious rebel-without-a-cause. We don’t learn much about Benny or his past, but he’s clearly damaged, looking for a way to express himself and make his mark on the world, a troublemaker with a thirst for danger whose worldview is slowly shifting with the introduction of Cathy into his life.

Benny is pulled back and forth between fantasy and reality, danger vs. safety, the thrill of the unknown vs. the security of Cathy. Butler suitably commands attention even with his limited dialogue, brimming with pure, unadulterated star power that Nichols happily emphasizes, particularly in his sizzling first scenes with Comer.

Johnny, with a nasally drawl and intimidating physique that Hardy expertly embodies, lashes out against any threat to his power, partly because he knows the Vandals cannot last without his guidance, and that his reign is nearing its end. There’s much pathos to be found here, brought to life by Hardy, as Johnny fights (scarily, in some cases) to hold onto the group as it threatens to slip through his fingers.

Hardy gives the film’s standout performance, lending Johnny a melancholy beneath his tough exterior and communicating his inner turmoil in a much subtler fashion than the screenplay permits the rest of the characters.

Through Johnny’s arc, “The Bikeriders” reveals itself to be a meditation on masculinity, on the affectionate yet unsustainable bonds that hold these men together as they attempt to outrun their problems on the open road, motorcycle engines blaring, even as reality and changing times are right on their heels. 

With Nichols’ confident, classically-inspired direction in full swing — featuring freeze frames, time jumps, and tactile, lived-in cinematography by Adam Stone that admires the motorcyclists without shying away from their brutality — “The Bikeriders” is always engaging in-the-moment, but, when the sheen of star power wears off, the story’s ultimate simplicity is revealed. 

It’s disappointing that, in the rearview mirror, so many side characters are reduced to archetypes that function more as ideas and symbols than tangible human beings. This is made more frustrating by a screenplay that lacks the depth necessary to explore their psyches and help us feel their motivations on a more memorable level. 

It’s difficult, for example, to buy Kathy’s continued devotion to Benny. Framing the film through her perspective (at a remove) also misses an opportunity to explore the Vandals’ heights and struggles with more depth. The film claims to celebrate Lyon’s journalistic efforts (with a one-note performance from Faist that’s more irritating than involving) whilst cramming the diverse stories of its subjects into a neat, tidy, sub two-hour film for a mass audience. 

Viewers well-versed in crime film tropes can predict beat-for-beat where the plot is headed, sending its individually compelling (but largely underdeveloped) characters down a formulaic road, as well as zeroing in on a relationship that’s difficult to become fully invested in. This is all at the expense of a more balanced portrait of characters worthy of closer looks that wouldn’t want to be pigeonholed into convention in the first place.

These issues hold “The Bikeriders” back from greatness, and make it somewhat superfluous in the crowd of films of its ilk that have come before. But there’s enough directorial craft and potentially awards-worthy acting on display that it’s still difficult to resist.

‘The Bikeriders’ is a 2023 crime drama directed by Jeff Nichols and starring Tom Hardy, Austin Butler, Jodie Comer and Michael Shannon. It is rated R for language throughout, violence, some drug use and brief sexuality, and the run time is 1 hour, 56 minutes. It opened in theatres June 21. Alex’s Grade: B.

The Son Rises In Enthralling, Massive Sci-Fi Spectacle ‘Dune: Part Two’

The Son Rises In Enthralling, Massive Sci-Fi Spectacle ‘Dune: Part Two’

By Lynn Venhaus

A masterful melding of massive spectacle, heartfelt high-stakes performances, and astonishing visual artistry, “Dune: Part Two” expands the mythic hero’s journey to its full potential.

After the global embrace of “Dune” in 2021 as a stunning adaptation of Frank Herbert’s 1965 book, considered the best-selling science fiction novel of all-time, the sequel has been highly anticipated to complete the first book on screen.

Part Two chronicles the novel’s second half, which follows a feudal interstellar society in a galaxy far, far away. At this time, while seeking revenge against the conspirators who destroyed his family, Paul Atreides (Timothee Chalamet) unites with Chani (Zendaya) and other Fremen. Forced to make either a personal choice or save the fate of the known universe, he endeavors to prevent a terrible future only he can foresee.

While it’s more riveting because of the whole picture, there could always be further character development due to its gigantic scope – nevertheless, the entire arc’s lucidity is much improved here.

In the first’s attempt at world-building, the narrative was largely unwieldy. However, no one could deny its mesmerizing grand-scale wizardry. (A second viewing really helped sort out the planets and houses).

Now that we are familiar with the desert wasteland Arrakis, the risks between the warring dynasties are made clearer. That is, for those of us who didn’t read Herbert’s first novel (or the other five in the “Dune” series).

‘Spice,’ the most precious resource in this universe’s existence, spurs the malevolent forces who want to control its extraction in Arrakis, because it is necessary for space navigation and its multidimensional awareness and foresight properties.

By picking up where the first left off, this second part effectively ties up loose ends, and deepens what is at stake. The focus narrows on young Paul Atreides, who must grow from an unseasoned boy, without his royal father to guide him, into the man he needs to become. Sacrifices must be made, and he continues to manifest his future in visions/dreams.

The religious and political implications of whether he is fulfilling a prophecy is what makes for propulsive viewing. The screenplay, co-written by director Denis Villeneuve and Jon Spaihts, contains requisite bombastic and brutal confrontations, but also includes sincere intimate moments that give the film its beating heart.

To that end, all the actors in this finely-tuned sprawling ensemble bring their A game, but Chalamet discernibly takes the reins – and without question, has come into his own as Paul.

It’s an emotionally charged turn, as he conveys a range of feelings, tormented by the burden of expectations and the challenge of learning ways to survive, especially conquering fear. As he notably rises above the pressures, his brooding Paul summons a strength that is exhilarating to watch.

Chalamet is fully invested as the gifted heir of the noble house of Atreides, who saw nearly everyone he cared about massacred. As the Harkonnen sharpen their attacks, Paul, who escaped Caladan with his mother to find refuge in Arrakis, is aided by the Fremen so that his people, and his family, have a future.

Whereas in the first, he was a blank slate “to the manor born,” and being groomed to take over. He accepted his duties, although reluctantly. But now, it’s urgent that he ascend into this pre-ordained role, and the question looms about his readiness. So far, he’s demonstrated heroic bravery and fierce loyalty, and must believably transform to meet the moment.

Now called “Usul,” or “Muad’Dib,” the Fremen respond to him with reverence – if they believe he is their savior. There are skeptics, though.

His mother, Lady Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson), becomes a Reverend Mother, and has a more fully developed role, steering her son towards his destiny and acting mysteriously as she prepares for the birth of her second child, a daughter. Ferguson is shrewdly alert and misses nothing as Leto’s widow.

Zendaya is more prominent as well, as Chani, a devoted and fearless Fremen warrior. Paul, a nobleman, is everything she has previously despised, but admiring his derring-do, they fall in love. That, of course, is complicated, and the two become a dynamic duo. Now bona fide movie stars, the camera loves both actors.

Also given more heft is venerable Javier Bardem as the courageous and wise Stilgar, who becomes a mentor and protector of Paul, fully believing that he is the next Messiah “as written.”

In a spellbinding scene pitting man against “a grandfather” sandworm that is one of cinema’s most astounding ever, Paul wins over a majority of Fremen. This is the money shot folks will be talking about for a long while.

Bardem is terrific, and so is Josh Brolin, who returns as brawny Gurney Halleck, the war master of the House of Atreides, who is one of Paul’s trusted advisors. Noteworthy, too, is Souheila Yacoub as Shishakli, a powerful Fremen sandrider.

On the dark side, a hulking, menacing Dave Bautista rages as Beast Rabban, part of the ruthless Harkonnen House, never to be trusted, and Stellan Skarsgard is a slimy and treacherous baron, a grotesque cross between Jabba the Hut and Palpatine in the “Star Wars” universe.

New to the story is a mind-blowing Austin Butler as the diabolical Feyd-Rautha, the baron’s cruel nephew and heir apparent. A cunning psychopath, the na-baron is imposing physically, and Butler’s transformation is startling. He proves that he is no one-trick pony after his breakthrough Oscar-nominated role as Elvis in Baz Luhrmann’s biopic last year.

Another new wrinkle is Florence Pugh as savvy Princess Irulen, daughter of the scheming emperor, smartly played by Christopher Walken. Pugh is properly regal, and while she only has one scene with her “Little Women” suitor Chalamet, it’s a showcase for all – the battle royale.

The cast serves the complexities of the characters well, we care more about their fates, and while the uninitiated might not understand all the elements at play, this trajectory is much smoother with this second helping.

Villeneuve establishes himself as a true visionary here – while I’ve enjoyed many of his films (“Blade Runner 2049,” “Arrival,” “Sicario” among them), and he is a meticulous craftsman, this is the first time I understood his fully realized end game, how the storytelling rose to the level of the visual effects.

If “Oppenheimer” is Christopher Nolan’s magnum opus, then “Dune: Part Two” is Villeneuve’s. What is impressive about both directors is their desire to create cinematic experiences, films that demand big-screen viewings because they fill the screen with wonder.

It was also smart to delay the sequel’s release date from November because it becomes the first welcome and sorely needed blockbuster of 2024. Mark my words, if “Dune: Part One” won six Oscars two years ago (original score, sound, film editing, cinematography, production design and visual effects), clear the trophy case for this latest during next year’s awards season.

The mythology’s epic scale is presented in a next-level, state-of-the-art artisanal way. Oscar winner Greig Fraser’s cinematography again dazzles with his panoramic planetary landcapes, scary sandworm eruptions, and grisly gladiator confrontations.

Production designer Patrice Vermette has created eye-popping worlds distinguishing each planet and house. Hans Zimmer’s stirring music effectively underscores the action and enhances the moods.

The first film was 2 hours and 35 minutes, and this follow-up adds 11 minutes, but didn’t detract. It certainly sets up an eager anticipation for “Dune: Part 3,” which is supposedly in the works, and will be based on the second novel, “Dune: Messiah.”

Villeneuve’s “Dune” series is the most successful to date for the devoted fan base. Filmmaker Alejandro Jodorowsky attempted a film adaptation in the 1970s but was cancelled after three years in development. Then David Lynch made a complex adaptation in 1984, which was not well-received, although fans were receptive to a Sci-Fi Channel miniseries in 2000.

With its breath-taking and jaw-dropping visuals and big-stakes bravado, “Dune: Part 2” is an enthralling cinematic marvel that we can both admire and enjoy.

“Dune: Part Two” is a 2024 science fiction action-adventure directed by Denis Villeneuve and starring Timothee Chalamet, Zendaya, Rebecca Ferguson, Austin Butler, Javier Bardem, Josh Brolin, Florence Pugh, Christopher Walken, Dave Bautista, Stellan Skarsgard and Charlotte Rampling. It is rated PG-13 for sequences of strong violence, some suggestive material and brief strong language, and its runtime is 2 hours, 46 minutes. It opens in theatres March 1. Lynn’s Grade: A.

‘Priscilla’ Is An Atmospheric Look at a Troubled Relationship

‘Priscilla’ Is An Atmospheric Look at a Troubled Relationship

By Alex McPherson

Stylistically resonant with absorbing performances from Cailee Spaeny and Jacob Elordi, director Sofia Coppola’s “Priscilla” is emotionally removed, eschewing a deeper dive into its subject’s headspace for dreamlike stasis with little payoff and, ultimately, not much of note to say.

Based on the book “Elvis and Me” by Priscilla Presley (who also executive-produced the film), Coppola’s adaptation charts the whirlwind romance between young Priscilla (Spaeny) and the insecure, hip-gyration-loving King of Rock and Roll himself (Elordi). We’re introduced to 14-year-old Priscilla (then Beaulieu) in 1959, when she’s a high school student living with her parents (Ari Cohen and Dagmara Dominczyk) on a U.S. Air Force Base in Wiesbaden, Germany. A chance encounter at a diner leads to her being invited to a house party hosted by 24-year-old Elvis, who’s currently serving in the Army.

Priscilla is thrilled and, after battling her anxious, apprehensive parents, is allowed to attend. Once she arrives at the party in Bad Nauheim, which the film frames like a moody jazz club radiating from the powerful man at its center, Elvis (again, 10 years Priscilla’s senior) almost immediately falls for her; she reminds him of home. 

Thus begins their deeply problematic courtship. Elvis leaves Germany for The States, which tears the crestfallen Priscilla apart: she spends her days anxiously awaiting letters and calls, daydreaming through classes and growing increasingly jealous hearing about Elvis’s tabloid headlines involving other women. In 1963, she’s summoned to Graceland, indulging in extravagance (and prescription drugs, instigated by Elvis) with his posse of rowdy friends who became known as the Memphis Mafia. 

After returning to Germany, she and Elvis convince her parents to let her move to Graceland to finish her senior year of high school. Everything seems like a fairy tale in Priscilla’s eyes, at least at the beginning, but deep cracks begin to form in their relationship. Denied intimacy and manufactured to be Elvis’s porcelain doll of a wife, Priscilla is sapped of independence – trapped in a glossy cage with an emotionally unintelligent artist grappling with his own identity at the expense of hers, until she decides that she’s had enough.

Indeed, “Priscilla” is a depressingly bleak look at a relationship steeped in toxic behaviors and feelings of claustrophobia. While Coppola effectively conveys the story’s saddening atemporality, in which Priscilla’s lack of development reflects her captor’s attempts to mold her, the intentionally distant approach backfires. The film jumps erratically through time without meaningful buildup to Priscilla’s rebellion, or, oddly, real insight into who she is and hopes to be.

The performances, however, are difficult to fault, even when delivering Coppola’s occasionally clunky dialogue. Spaeny precisely embodies Priscilla’s wide-eyed youthfulness and growing maturity. We observe her longing, euphoria, and disillusionment with a celebrity she’s idealized and who has trapped her in cycles of loving and abuse, tenderness and chaos. “Priscilla” is largely framed through her eyes, as we watch her enduring situations where others talk at her and she, often nonverbally, emotes multitudes through subtle facial expressions and body language. Stacy Battat’s costume design further helps emphasize Priscilla’s separation from her past and from her true self, fashioned to appease Elvis’s demands. Her frustration and yearning is efficiently portrayed by an actor deserving of all the accolades (hopefully) headed her way.

Elordi is similarly effective, taking a far different approach than Austin Butler’s flamboyant (and highly entertaining) turn in Baz Luhrman’s 2022 biopic, “Elvis.” Elordi nails Elvis’s voice and physique, towering over Spaeny in an on-the-nose reminder of their age gap and power dynamic. Elordi’s Elvis is charismatic, trouble-making, and selfish, a victim of stardom grappling with his own image and expectations forced on him by people like Colonel Tom Parker. 

While “Priscilla” is more focused on his direct interactions (or lack thereof) with Priscilla, we infer outside drama and betrayal through conversations Priscilla overhears and headlines she reads. The victimization and mental struggles that Elvis experiences seep into his personal life. He might love Priscilla on some level, but sees her as someone to be controlled. Elvis holds her back to retain her purity, perhaps as a way for him to appease his own regrets and status as a sex symbol while he lives a life of stardom singing and acting in Hollywood (sleeping with many women along the way).

With such committed performances from Spaeny and Elordi, it’s a shame that “Priscilla” is such a cold viewing experience – which might be the point. This is a dark story of fantasy brought down to earth, less about empowerment than disempowerment. 

The film’s first half unfolds like a dream, hazy and ethereal, as Sarah Flack’s editing conveys the whirlwind romance with a sense of inertia that Priscilla finds difficult to break free from. What starts out as unexpected, surprising, and thrilling devolves into tedious cycles of mistreatment and placation. We feel for Priscilla, mostly thanks to Spaeny’s acting, but the film’s second half sags due to Coppola’s seeming refusal to dig deeper into Priscilla’s psyche; more based on vibes than genuine insight as the years tick by and Priscilla becomes a bride and mother. 

Frequent Coppola collaborator Philippe Le Sourd’s cinematography is murky and cloudy, echoing Priscilla’s stagnation – never drawing too much attention to Tamara Deverell’s period-accurate set design. Coppola frequently resorts to montages to depict the passing years, emphasizing how little has changed in Priscilla’s fraught situation.

This minimalist approach to Priscilla’s rebellion is muted to a fault. There’s little crescendo to her final decision, besides viewers knowing from the outset that she eventually divorces Elvis. As a result, Coppola’s restrained approach to the material seems like checking off boxes instead of organically telling a story about one woman’s resilience in the face of adversity. The reasons Priscilla continues to stay with Elvis are complex and worthy of exploration, though the film holds her at arm’s length. 

Combined with a jarringly abrupt ending and a soundtrack that too often tries to sell emotions through lyrics (with no Elvis tunes in the lineup), “Priscilla” stays afloat thanks to the magnetic performances of its two leads. For Spaeny and Elordi, especially Spaeny, “Priscilla” is worth a look, but it remains a missed opportunity for a filmmaker capable of greatness.

“Priscilla” is a 2023 drama directed by Sofia Coppola and starring Cailee Spaeny, Jacob Elordi, Ari Cohen, and Dagmara Dominczyk. It is rated R for drug use and some language, and runs 1 hour, 50 minutes. It opened in theaters November 3. Alex’s Grade: B-

Can’t Help Falling in Love with Baz Luhrmann’s Electric ‘Elvis’ Biopic

Can’t Help Falling in Love with Baz Luhrmann’s Electric ‘Elvis’ Biopic

By Lynn Venhaus
Baz Luhrmann’s sensational and stylish spin on the man, the myth and the legend, “Elvis” restores the luster to the once fallen King of Rock ‘n Roll.

For those who may wonder why Elvis Aaron Presley is a cultural icon, this lovingly crafted film is the definitive exhibit A. There will be no doubt about how he became the rebel yell of a generation and shook up society’s norms in prim 1950s Eisenhower America. His raw, incandescent talent made such an impact as to forever change popular music.

Through Luhrmann’s trademark kinetic, frenetic method, he depicts a young Elvis (Chaydon Jay) as a church-going mama’s boy who grew up in poverty and how early black music influences shaped him into a soulful white singer.

That unique mix of rockabilly, country, Southern gospel, blues, and pop ballads that made Elvis stand out – and breakthrough racial barriers – is an aural delight, thanks to the massive teams of sound engineers and music technicians.

In a breathtaking and brilliant performance, Austin Butler scorches the screen as Elvis from teen heartthrob to red-hot superstar to Vegas comeback to drug-addled shell of his former self.

By bringing out Elvis’ humanity and how his identity was shaped, Butler puts an indelible stamp on one of the 20th century’s brightest supernovas. Dynamic in song, movement, and demeanor, the actor is mesmerizing in a classic “star is born” scenario.

Previously, he was Tex Watson, one of the Manson family, in Quentin Tarantino’s “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” and as a youth, cast in Disney-Nickelodeon television shows. It’s one of those magnetic star turns where everyone will now know who he is.

Welcome to the evolution. Luhrmann chronicles Elvis’ meteoric rise in vibrant vignettes as the singer’s sinewy sensuality electrified audiences. Oh, the scandals, the puritanical shock, and the excitement rippling through white middle-class America.

There isn’t much room for character development in the sprawling supporting cast, but the performers make the most of their brief screen time. Kelvin Harrison Jr. is memorable as a young B.B. King, hanging out with his white friend on Beale Street, while Kodi Smit-McPhee is under-used as singer Jimmie Rodgers, who helped introduce Elvis to the uninitiated.

Of significance is Sam Phillips (Josh McConville) of Sun Records, his smart receptionist Marion Keisker (Kate Mulvany) and DJ Dewey Phillips (Patrick Shearer), for without this power trio, there’d be no velvet Elvis.

Other music influences mentioned are David Wenham as country singer Hank Snow, Alton Mason as Little Richard, Gary Clark Jr. as Arthur “Big Boy” Crudup and Yola as Sister Rosetta Tharp.

The technical work dazzles, with cinematographer Mandy Walker giving each decade a particular retro look. Editors Matthew Villa and Jonathan Redmond, who previously worked together on Luhrmann’s 2013 “The Great Gatsby,” wove news clippings, music, videos, period details and classic recreations for the ultimate sizzle reel.

Luhrmann’s wife and frequent collaborator, Catherine Martin, did outstanding work as both the costume designer and production designer, spotlighting the signature looks, humble beginnings and lavish lifestyle..

Tom Hanks as Colonel Tom Parker

Luhrmann shows how Elvis, nicknamed “The Memphis Flash,” created a danger zone all by his lonesome. And how the naïve working-class ‘hillbilly’ and his unsophisticated parents Gladys (Helen Thomson) and Vernon (Richard Roxburgh) were taken advantage of by cagey con artist Colonel Tom Parker, who recognized a meal ticket and corralled the innocent young kid so he could pull the strings.

Part fraud, part genius promoter, Parker’s greed, power moves and deceptive practices are brought into sharper focus here, and for this sleazier damning portrait, a nearly unrecognizable Tom Hanks adopts a distinctive voice and dramatically changes his physical appearance. It’s rare to see Hanks as a villain, and takes some getting used to, as does the unusual vocal cadence.

As mastermind of the illusion, Parker is both credited and cursed in the screenplay co-written by Luhrmann, his longtime collaborator Craig Pearce (“Moulin Rouge,” “Romeo +Juliet” and “Strictly Ballroom”), Sam Bromell and Jeremy Doner, with story by Luhrmann and Doner.

Luhrmann’s hyper-visual flourishes eventually find its rhythm and yields to a more conventional narrative. Now in the Army in 1958 to cool down his controversial gyrations– those swiveling hips on national television! His ‘rubber legs’! – his fateful romance with Priscilla Beaulieu is sweetly told.

Butler and DeJonge

Australian actress Olivia DeJonge, recently seen in the HBO limited series “The Staircase,” is a stable influence as the love of Elvis’ life. She was 14, he was 24 when they met while he was stationed in Germany. After a seven-year courtship, they were married in 1967 and divorced in 1973. Butler and DeJonge make the coupling work as the calm eye in the hurricane.

The movie really takes flight when it tackles how the social upheaval of the 1960s affected art and became a catalyst for pop stars wanting to be relevant. Elvis was on the verge of has-been territory as his popularity waned after a string of movie flops. His entourage, aka The Memphis Mafia, had grown unwieldy. But his trusted asset, talent manager Jerry Schilling (Luke Bracey), is an integral part of the trailblazing.

You can describe Elvis in many ways, but bland isn’t part of the vocabulary. The entertainer knew he needed a makeover, and he shrewdly enlisted record producer Bones Howe (Gareth Davies) and director Steve Binder (Dacre Montgomery) to recharge his image so he mattered again.

This is best demonstrated by the fascinating behind-the-scenes sequence of the “Singer Presents Elvis” TV special set for airing on Dec. 3, 1968. Can you imagine The King wearing a Christmas sweater and singing carols? That’s what the sponsor and Parker thought they were recording, but the hip cool people in charge pulled off a minor miracle – a thrilling combination of Elvis unplugged and off-the-charts charisma that cemented his live solo stature. Now known as the “Comeback” special, it was the highest rated show for NBC that year, and often imitated thereafter.

His back-on-top transformation reignited a fire within, and Elvis returned to live performances, establishing residency in Vegas.

But Elvis’ downward spiral in the 1970s can’t be avoided, and neither can what eventually led to his untimely death at age 42 on Aug. 16, 1977.

While Elvis’ remarkable life is more material that can be contained in one feature, this film delivers the key moments for a sympathetic, complex, yet tragic, portrait. With a singular vision, Luhrmann hits the sweet spot as he achieves a new appreciation for rock ‘n roll royalty. And that’s all right.

Austin Butler as Elvis Presley

“Elvis” is a 2022 biographical drama directed by Baz Luhrmann and starring Austin Butler, Tom Hanks, Olivia DeJonge and Kelvin Harrison Jr. It runs for 2 hours, 39 minutes, and is rated PG-13 for substance abuse, strong language, suggestive material and smoking. It is in theatres on June 24. Lynn’s Grade: A