by Cyrus Basharkhah
Among the legion of musicians who have tried their hand at acting, David Bowie perhaps
excelled more than any other. On a purely surface-level look, the rock star was as innately striking and compelling on camera as any person could naturally be. And in his. With that foundation, Bowie displayed genuine depths as a film actor, molding himself to different characters and supporting the visions of a handful of idiosyncratic artistic voices. Only one actor could be as tightly wounded and achingly reserved as Jack Celliers in Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence, as ethereally mournful as Thomas Jerome Newton in The Man Who Fell To Earth, and be so delightfully theatrical in Labyrinth, a dream movie if your dream, like mine, is David Bowie crooning while surrounded by a hundred ugly little ghouls. But maybe the best showcase for his acting talent lies in Jazzin’ For Blue Jean, a 20-minute music short film promoting the title single.
excelled more than any other. On a purely surface-level look, the rock star was as innately striking and compelling on camera as any person could naturally be. And in his. With that foundation, Bowie displayed genuine depths as a film actor, molding himself to different characters and supporting the visions of a handful of idiosyncratic artistic voices. Only one actor could be as tightly wounded and achingly reserved as Jack Celliers in Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence, as ethereally mournful as Thomas Jerome Newton in The Man Who Fell To Earth, and be so delightfully theatrical in Labyrinth, a dream movie if your dream, like mine, is David Bowie crooning while surrounded by a hundred ugly little ghouls. But maybe the best showcase for his acting talent lies in Jazzin’ For Blue Jean, a 20-minute music short film promoting the title single.
In a film career playing space aliens, vampires, a hallucinatory FBI agent, the Goblin
King, the sentencer of Jesus, Andy Warhol, and Nikola Tesla, romantically inept loser Vic is somehow the oddest character Bowie has ever played. Bowie trades in his usual suave and beguiling affect for a bumbling, awkward nobody. The script is loaded with dry one-liners and rambling monologues that all circle back to how ineffectual Vic is. In some line deliveries, Bowie and Temple presage the British Office in tone and shading and, by descent, an entire swath of cringe comedy and male embarrassment/pseudo-sociopathy. Vic’s attempts to talk his way into success are drawn out to excruciating lengths as the rest of the world refuses to toss him a bone. Bowie lives in Vic’s skin as a weaselly person, and he superbly plays the physical comedy as he tries to pluck a name off the guest list, only for it to immediately backfire.
In the British tradition of Peter Sellers, Bowie plays yet another character, the literary
allusive pun Screaming Lord Byron, who is a send-up of Bowie’s actual life as a musician.
Drugged out, Byron is at half-times a whimpering mess and, at others, a prickly cad to his staff. There is a strange but thrilling enjoyment to watching the camera awkwardly edit around so that an oblivious David Bowie can unknowingly terrify a cowardly David Bowie.
As directed by Julien Temple, the short film is a joy of British music video filmmaking, with its tracking shots through gray London streets and moody interiors lit with hazy colored lights. Vic meeting his date at the front of the Byron performance plays out with the moody blue of a British Edward Hopper. And the proper music video section is filled to the brim with bold filmmaking choices, with handheld cameras moving about in the middle of thronging crowds, while Bowie as Byron carries a handheld lantern that emanates blasting white light in an oddly striking manner. It’s an unusual choice that pushes away from regular ideas of slick 80s MV style into a more abstract and chaotic atmosphere.
Jazzin’ For Blue Jean culminates with an ending laden with the wry sense of humor Bowie displayed in his albums and interviews. I won’t spoil what it is as it’s such a pleasant surprise and a hysterical left-turn. But in it, as a performer, Bowie delivers one final comedic harakiri to his image with the vigor of a classical movie star. Acting can be a hard thing to judge. Bowie however, is always captivating and just as crucially, is always making interesting choices.
What more is needed?
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