In the 1970s, David Bowie was asked on British television how he was able to maintain that flawless English accent after two years in Los Angeles. “I don’t talk to anyone,” the artist replied. In this Bowie came together a genius of boundless creativity (for music, yes, and he also produced videos, painted, acted, sculpted, wrote) and an introverted character prone to isolation, the result of family trauma. It wasn’t what you’d expect from this chameleon, the king of glam, cross-dressing and theatrics, the nomad who moved without stylistic, sexual or geographic boundaries. He defined himself as a collector of personalities. It would be worth telling characters: we only see him in his costumes.
A major figure in 20th-century culture, the artist is portrayed with his own voice (and what a voice!) in the documentary Moonage Daydream, which has just hit theaters and is available for rent on Apple TV+. Brett Morgen’s production is not a biography on which he hardly puts a brushstroke. Nor does he need it. It is an immersive and mesmerizing experience that attempts to delve into the mind of the creator. To be so shy, he talked a lot about himself: he had intelligent speech, not at all superficial, loved to explore the transcendent. The story follows his most evocative statements, chosen from hundreds of interviews, as we are dazzled by his songs, his shows and his masked parade.
The narrative is not chronological and omits key passages, but its development is noted. The boisterous and avant-garde Bowie of youth is another late eighties: he overwhelms the radio formulae, finds affective footing in Iman (in one of the most beautiful couples we know) and says he’s already comfortable in his role as an actor. In the end, you don’t know if you know who Bowie was, but you sense that maybe no one ever knew.
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