Advantages: Elton is human Disadvantages: Elton is also Kevin The Teenager
...somewhat staged, but as other tantrums would show... This. Is. Elton.
His home, the English one, is as magnificent as you would expect although it has been cleared of the paraphenalia and junk that he cluttered up the house with during his drug-addled, sexually ambivalent (and subconciously infinitely lonely) life. The bedroom is romantically sumptious, although thankfully not in pink, and surprisingly old-fashioned. All of this is ... ...thinking "Gawd bless 'im" at the end of it.
Facing personal demons is a daunting and mountainous task. Parading them on a film to your adoring or sniping public takes guts. And maturity.
Elton John's documentary could not have a more apt title.
The consent for the filming of him during his 1995 world tour only came because it would be done by his lover, David Furnish, and he would prove to be vital in the making of the film.
I knew when I saw it advertised that this would sate my appetite for people-watching, especially as it's the more exciting version, celebrity-watching. The time when we get the chance to see whether our chosen heroes have feet of alabaster or clay. With Elton John you get the latter but they're strapped into outrageous platforms with the nails prettily painted.
Had someone asked me why I thought the documentary had been made before I'd seen it, I'd have put money on it being to promote the positive side of a reasonably controversial man. And indeed the start is sprinkled with laughing conversations between him and his work colleagues, full of the Polari banter enjoyed by Kenneth Williams in his exuberant camp comedies.
We are then treated to Elton John in full and petulant flight. He'd arrived in New York to film a music video, which is something he detests, only to find that the chauffeur had driven off with his change of clothes. Stamping, swearing and overly dramatic he procedes to flame everyone in the room, threatening to walk off the shoot. At first it's so childish I felt that this was either wind up or it's being somewhat staged, but as other tantrums would show... This. Is. Elton.
His home, the English one, is as magnificent as you would expect although it has been cleared of the paraphenalia and junk that he cluttered up the house with during his drug-addled, sexually ambivalent (and subconciously infinitely lonely) life. The bedroom is romantically sumptious, although thankfully not in pink, and surprisingly old-fashioned. All of this is pointing to a new sort of Elton. Not a feather boa in sight.
There are interviews with his mother, who cried when talking of how she despaired of his life, and he is filmed with his Grandmother who lives in a house he had built for her on his estate. There is a touching bond of the ordinary sort of family love between them all, which seems far away and so trivial in comparison to the world adulation that he receives, but is infinitely more powerful for a man like himself.
This film captures a vulnerable man. It's like he deep froze himself with the drug abuse and he can't cope with the raw feelings of thawing out, and so he rages against it. He buys and shops and shops and buys like a depressed woman with severe PMS and a brand new credit card. Clothes, Art, Glasses. Nothing is safe from him.
During his attempted holiday stay at Cap Ferrat in Southern France he takes you on a tour of his wardrobe. This is a room and a half of racks upon racks of suits, jackets, shirts and trousers, 6 drawers of glasses - arranged according to colours - and 2 tiaras. There is also a table full of vitamin pills and a large fridge/freezer stocked with his own food, especially M&S breakfast muffins. He admits to taking all this with him when he goes on holiday because it makes him feel at home. Y'know, like <singing> "Wherever I lay my 65 suits, 50 trousers and 43 silk shirts, that's my home."
There are more tantrums, more interviews, songs, footage of him having severe breathing difficulties during a stage performance, yet going back on to complete the remainder of the show with the audience being none the wiser.
Perhaps the biggest revelations come with from talks with Beechy Colclough, recovering alcoholic and psychologist to the stars, who answers David's questions on film as to why he thinks Elton behaves like he does, why he finds relationships difficult? The answers upset Elton when he views them later, but seeing as how I'm watching all this in the completed documentary, the magical David Furnish had woven his spell once again and the scenes were kept in.
This was a satisfying film. My desire to be a celebrity voyeur had been rewarded handsomely. Elton talks candidly, swears effectively, behaves like a complete tart but still had me thinking "Gawd bless 'im" at the end of it.
Facing personal demons is a daunting and mountainous task. Parading them on a film to your adoring or sniping public takes guts. And maturity.
