Moonage Daydream: A Fan’s (Me) Love Note to Another Fan’s (Brett Morgen) Masterpiece

I am so grateful for experiencing “Moonage Daydream” yesterday (Sept. 16) at a local iMax Theatre. It’s something I will never forget for many reasons. For one thing, it brought me out of a self-imposed exile; I can count on one hand the number of movies I’ve attended in the past 20 years, but was determined to not allow my fears and inadequacies to keep me from seeing this one. So, when matinee times were announced, I selected one that proved to be a great choice for someone like me who can’t tolerate crowded spaces, as there were fewer than a dozen people in attendance. Most importantly, it brought me a joyous, insanely intense sensory experience leading me closer to knowing and understanding the man who helped to shape and ultimately save my life over 40 years ago.

Let’s get the very minor concerns with the film out of the way. First, it ended (with the exception of references to Blackstar) in the 90s. The aughts were barely mentioned, if at all. The other concern is that to a casual fan, or someone learning about Bowie, the “The Man Who Fell To Earth” clips interspersed throughout the film could be very misleading. Without a point of reference, they could be misconstrued for actual clips of Bowie’s day-to-day life. His life was bizarre enough during that period without adding any more to it. But again, just very minor blips. Overall, it was absolutely sublime.

“Moonage Daydream” Trailer

My expectations were simple: to spend 140 minutes with the man who helped show me the way through a world in which I felt alienated, and to fully absorb everything offered. Brett Morgen, the film’s creator, masterfully and poetically shares the essence of Bowie with us in an artistic and gorgeous manner. Morgen allows us to remember and experience Bowie in a personal way by providing us with visuals and music that help us along that special journey. We are free to recall and re-live in our own unique fashion.

If, on the other hand, you’re expecting a documentary in the true sense, don’t waste your time. Go back and re-watch “David Bowie: Finding Fame,” or “David Bowie: The Last Five Years” or any other number of films that surfaced shortly after his death. There, you can find numerous friends and musicians who self-congratulate on how important they were to Bowie and his music. Here, in “Moonage Daydream,” the focus is strictly on the man himself.

Prepare to be emotionally overwhelmed from the onset. Two minutes into the film, all it took was glimpses of Ziggy to get my tears flowing. I was both grateful and disappointed the theater was pretty much empty: Grateful, because I didn’t feel awkward crying or singing quietly along, and disappointed because I really want this film to be a blockbuster. There was so much to take in that this is definitely something to be viewed and embraced over and over again in order to absorb all the film has to offer.

Brett Morgen is a genius for being able to artfully cram in as much of Bowie’s 50-year career as he did within the time constraints he had. Let’s face it: commercially, a longer film would flop immediately in a society where people worship sound bites. I never once looked at my watch and was the only one who stayed until the credits ended (which I highly recommend), but it was easy for me because of how much I love and respect Bowie, and how much I enjoyed and appreciated Brett Morgen’s film.

In closing, I have to say I don’t quite understand those who claim to be disappointed in this unique and artistic visual statement. A question for the naysayers: What if you were given the chance to sit with Bowie face-to-face for 140 minutes while he talked about his life? Would you walk away dismayed and dissatisfied because he may have missed a story here and there due to time constraints? Would you complain to your friends that Bowie’s conversation was disjointed and underwhelming?

No, I didn’t think so.

When Heroes Die ~ David Bowie (January 8, 1947 – January 10, 2016)

Admittedly, I am adding my voice a bit late to the millions of others expressing shock and grief over the death of David Bowie (nee David Robert Jones) on January 10. My reasons include the inability to come to grips with my emotions and to make sense of the flood of confusion and depression that has washed over me, the likes of which I haven’t felt since losing Daniel, my beloved husband, over 3 years ago.david-bowie-174

There have been sad, hateful people who have belittled those of us in the throes of grief, not understanding the powerful hold this man held over us, and the positive influence he brought to lives wracked with hopelessness and despair. I feel sorry for those wastes of space and oxygen, for they will never know the joy that a lyric, the bend of a note, the croon of a voice, the sight of magnificent oddity can bring, when all a lost soul is looking for is some light toward which to travel with hopeful anticipation.

400full-david-bowieMy own story involves musical salvation from the darkest period of my life that included an inexplicable and debilitating addiction born of self-loathing. Something in Bowie’s music hit me at a time (late 70s/early 80s) when I could very easily have checked out on life in a drug-induced haze of oblivion. It spoke volumes to a lost soul who felt very different in an uncaring world. Suddenly, “different” was OK–acceptable and cool, even–and the earth shifted back on its axis, instead of tumbling haphazardly toward reckless destruction.

David Bowie taught me to have the courage to face down my demons, much as he had accomplished with his move to Berlin. He held my fragile psyche in his arms night after night, as I fell asleep in huge headphones, plugged into the stereo piled high with his vinyl platters, lulling me into fitful sleep and the healing needed to get back on track. His words lifted me, his music inspired me, and his lion-like courage was the model that I used to find my own way back to a world that no longer seemed as cold and full of rejection as I had once perceived it to be. I felt validated, renewed, and determined.

Mr. Bowie gave me back my life. And Daniel, when I met him years later, continued to anchor me and gently guide me along all the right paths. How can one damaged-yet-renewed soul thank another soul for a second chance? I’ve never felt that I adequately thanked either one of these brave and brilliant men during this physical phase of existence, but I hope to have another chance when I, too, begin life among the stars.david-bowie-2013-superpride

Rest in peace, David Robert Jones Bowie (and Daniel, my true love). You’ve both earned your wings and the opportunity to shine your love radiantly, beautifully, and eternally upon us all as we somehow attempt to navigate the rough seas of life without your physical presence. Every tear we cry waters the tree of your memory. Long may it grow tall and strong, sheltering us all with branches made of the endless beauty and joy you gave to the world.