If you only know Elvis Presley through your own foggy memories or those even murkier of your parents or grandparents, I’m happy to direct you to a vibrant Elvis, who will foster a new or renewed appreciation of the entertainer in a surprisingly potent Netflix documentary called “Return of the King: The Fall and Rise of Elvis Presley.”
Filled with music, some rarely seen old film footage and told in powerful narrative fashion, peppered with a number of smart, perceptive and contemporary voices, this is one of the best documentaries I have seen in a long time.
It centers on an event I had all but forgotten, the program that aired on NBC on Dec. 3, 1968, which was initially titled “Singer Presents Elvis,” brought to the screen by the sewing machine company. It would come to be widely known as the “’68 Comeback Special.” This show would jet-fuel a career that many deemed done and over, and now acts as a powerful reminder of the transcendent talent of this man, the cultural force that he was.
Many of the years and details leading up to that TV evening necessarily revisit familiar chapters in the Elvis story: the impoverished childhood, how he was influenced by Black music, the early and frenzied concerts; his weird relationship with promoter (and master manipulator) Colonel Tom Parker, the string of hits and TV appearances that made Presley of the 1950s the most popular performer on the planet.
Then we watch him get shorn of his sideburns — a la that famous haircut given to Samson — and leave the country in 1958 to fulfill his Army obligations, most of which he did in Germany, just as a bunch of other Europeans in the form of The Beatles and Rolling Stones began to invade the U.S.
He came home in the early 1960s but it was not to concert halls, but rather to movie screens. Parker locked him into a multi-year movie studio contract that saw him featured in films that were little more than cash-grabs of ever-decreasing quality. There is one particularly painful clip from one of them, with Presley sitting on a pickup truck surrounded by animals and singing “Old McDonald had a Farm.”
It’s easy to understand why he grew frustrated with the scripts he was being offered, angrily so too, as his longtime friend Jerry Schilling says in the film, “One day (Presley) was reading a script, and he threw it across the room and said, ‘I’m not doing this.’”
And so Parker put together a TV special, his idiotic idea to feature Presley in corny skits, holiday songs and other schtick. Presley, with the considerable aid of producer/director Steve Binder, turned the tables and was determined to be true to himself and his music.
It’s fascinating to watch how this happened, and to see outtakes from the special and to see what it became, which is impossible not to admire.
Need company in your regard? There’s plenty, in the form of a fine cast of talking heads.
One is Priscilla Presley. She first met Elvis in Germany when she was 14 and he was 24 serving his Army hitch. They kept in touch, began a relationship and were married in 1967. She was aware that the career stakes were immense, since he had not performed in a concert setting in seven years. As she says, “He was definitely aware of (that), yes. And he knew that this could be a failure, and that would be it. … It could ruin his career.”
Though she had yet to see him perform live, she was knew of his stature, telling a fascinating story of the night she and Elvis were visited at home by The Beatles, saying, “They were so nervous. Elvis sat down on the couch and John Lennon and Paul McCartney just stared at him. Elvis basically (said), ‘Well, if you’re not gonna talk …’ He turned on the TV. They were just mesmerized by him.”
Lennon eventually would tell Schilling, “We wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for him.”
The TV special show goes on with Presley assembling such old bandmates as guitarist Scotty Moore and drummer D.J. Fontana, donning a leather outfit, delivering powerfully his hits and charming the predominantly female audience.
This documentary, directed by Jason Hehir, assembles a remarkable group of commentators. In addition to Priscilla and Schilling we hear from a couple of smart authors; singer Darlene Love; Baz Luhrmann, the director of the 2022 feature film “Elvis”; the late Robbie Robertson, who watched the original broadcast with Bob Dylan; Conan O’Brien, wise and witty; and, most prominently, Bruce Springsteen, who says that he was inspired by the TV show to pick up a guitar for the first time.
He also, as if it had happened yesterday, recalls watching the show on a small television in his family’s kitchen, saying, “This was (Presley) going where his destiny was leading him. … It was the rebirthing of Elvis Presley … a reintroduction not just to who he had been, but to who he could be.”
He did become a tragic figure, sullying himself and his unique talent in lengthy Las Vegas residencies, on concert tours, bloated and drug-addled in bejeweled white jumpsuits. His last concert took place on June 26, 1977 at Market Square Arena in Indianapolis. Six weeks later, he was dead at 42.
Musician Billy Corgan puts it neatly when he says in this show, “We sit here and judge how he handled normal life. The pressures of marriage, fatherhood, celebrity, Colonel Tom Parker’s (expletive). But in the midst of this … lightning strikes. And all we’re left to do is sort through the pieces and go, god, I wish there was more. Why isn’t there more?”
What we see here is enough. Col. Parker wanted to turn Elvis Presley into Bing Crosby but what we got was Elvis, the one and only and, in its way, forever.
rkogan@chicagotribune.com
