DVD Review: Freddie Mercury - Freddie Mercury: The Great Pretender

DVD Review: Freddie Mercury - Freddy Mercury: The Great Pretender

Eagle Vision

All Access Review: A-

Freddie Mercury - The Great Pretender 2012

At death’s door, Freddie Mercury decided to reveal in a press release that he, indeed, had full-blown AIDs and that he wasn’t long for this world. The news wasn’t surprising. In public appearances around that time, Mercury appeared gaunt, as if he was simply wasting away to nothing. The rumor mill had been spinning out of control for a while, with many speculating that Mercury was in the throes of the deadly disease, and when the end came, the vultures descended to viciously pick his bones clean. Mercilessly, the British tabloids savaged Mercury and his personal life, taking him to task for his reckless promiscuity and his libertine lifestyle. Judgment day had arrived for this modern-day Oscar Wilde, only it was the armchair moralists and the gossipmongers rendering their verdicts, not Mercury’s maker.

Coming to his defense, Queen’s Brian May and Roger Taylor went on TV to attempt to restore his good name and talk about the Freddie Mercury they knew, the quiet, more reserved aesthete who was completely at odds with the over-sexed madman in press portrayals. And there was more – much more, as it turned out – to Mercury than meets the eye, as the new documentary film “Freddie Mercury: The Great Pretender” makes so abundantly clear. Mostly concerned with the extreme highs and lows – both professional and personal – that Mercury experienced between the recording of his first solo album, the disastrous Mr. Bad Guy, and his tragic ending, “Freddie Mercury: The Great Pretender,” out via Eagle Entertainment, weaves together electrifying live footage – the Live Aid stuff, with Mercury exhorting the massive crowd to sing with him, is captivating – with candid, behind-the-scenes images of the singer and impactful interview snippets from the likes of May and Taylor, as well as friends and associates such as television personality Paul Gambaccini and Queen manager Jim Beach, to manufacture a colorful narrative fabric that Mercury would wear like a royal cape.

Edited and produced by Rhys Thomas, a diehard Queen fanatic, the documentary artfully explores how Mercury immersed himself in New York City’s wild gay club life and became fascinated with disco and Donna Summer, this along with his deep and abiding love and appreciation of opera and the ballet, which resulted in his sublime 1979 performance of “Bohemian Rhapsody” with the Royal Ballet. Going further, through Mercury’s own truthful admission, Thomas reveals the extent to which Mercury felt disengaged and distanced from his Queen band mates, due to their different outside interests, and the bullheadedness Mercury exhibited in steering Hot Space into more dance-oriented territory, which heated the friction between Mercury and May to an almost unbearable temperature.

And while all this controversy and drama certainly makes for good viewing, Thomas is also careful to attend to the smaller, more mundane aspects of Mercury's life, laying bare the vulnerabilities that made him uncertain in interpersonal relationships. Loyal to a fault, as his divisive relationship with former manager Paul Prenter illustrates – in the film, Taylor dismissively says of Prenter, “The less said about him the better” – Mercury was a cat lover, who could be shy and retiring offstage and willingly lament the fact that he didn’t have many close friends, as he did in a poignant talk about his star-crossed relationship with girlfriend Mary Austin in the movie, Mercury wasn’t the arrogant superman his dazzling onstage persona would suggest. He did have his endearing qualities, though, as his giddy adoration of opera singer Montserrat Caballe – whose friendship with Mercury is treated with such tenderness and pure joy in the film – so aptly demonstrates. It was Mercury’s determination to work with her that brought the two vocalists together for one of the most spectacular collaborations in music history, as their clarion calls sent the massive international hit single “Barcelona” soaring to the heavens. Outside of Queen, it was Mercury’s greatest triumph; more than that, it washed away the bad taste left in his mouth from Mr. Bad Guy, the result of a bloated contract with Mercury as a solo artist that caused excruciating financial pain to his record label.

Driving right through that intersection where art and life collide, “Freddie Mercury: The Great Pretender” pulls no punches, and yet it is a warm, wistful eulogy to an artist who never stopped creating, even as AIDS ravaged his body. Startlingly honest and forthright about Mercury’s failings and his grand ambitions, the film introduces the world to Mercury’s flawed humanity, and through Thomas’s multi-faceted portrait, the once-blurry and undefined picture of Mercury, the man, comes sharply into focus. Near the end, as is outlined in Thomas’s heartfelt liner notes to the DVD, Beach once asked Mercury what he wanted done with his legacy and all that he’d left behind. Mercury responded, in typical devil-may-care fashion, by saying, “You can do whatever you like with my image, my music, remix it, re-release it, whatever – just never make me boring.” Mission accomplished.

-            Peter Lindblad

DVD Review: Queen - Greatest Video Hits

DVD Review: Queen - Greatest Video Hits

Eagle Vision

All Access Review: A-

Queen - Greatest Video Hits 2012

Donning a studded, black leather jacket in the video to Queen’s “Crazy Little Thing Called Love,” Freddie Mercury vamped around the air-brushed set like a cabaret version of Marlon Brando from “The Wild One,” strutting down a runway with a smoldering quartet of sexy male and female dancers in tow. In paying homage to rock ‘n’ roll’s envelope-pushing past, the always dramatic Mercury cut a very Elvis-like figure, coyly straddling that line between innocent, fun romanticism and explicit sexuality – much as Elvis did.

Where the King was only filmed from the waist up in certain TV performances, Mercury and his “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” playmates only hinted at the lascivious desires boiling up inside of them. Two years later, when Queen needed a visual accompaniment to “Body Language,” Mercury – largely responsible for the video’s steamy content – held nothing back, letting all of his deepest, darkest sexual impulses loose in a writhing orgy of sweaty skin and nubile bodies . As Roger Taylor and Brian May reveal in the surprisingly candid commentary included with “Greatest Video Hits,” the engrossing new compilation of Queen videos from Eagle Vision, the racy imagery was reflective of Mercury’s extreme nature and his increasingly reckless immersion in a homosexual subculture that laughed at prudish convention. And while that side of Mercury’s life may have provided titillating fodder for tabloid exploitation, there was more – much more, in fact – to Queen’s ever-evolving marriage of musical and visual artistry than stylized carnal fantasies, as “Greatest Video Hits” so magnificently illustrates.

Spread across two discs, this collection gathers 33 of Queen’s most inspired cinematic adventures – “Flash” and “A Kind of Magic,” influenced by the movie “Highlander,” being two of the most brilliant – vividly restored and fit into a widescreen format with remixed sound. There’s the lighthearted comedic romp “I Want To Break Free,” an infamous cross-dressing parody of the British soap opera “Coronation Street” directed by David Mallet that was banned by MTV, and the highly conceptual “Under Pressure” and “Radio Ga Ga,” which mixed vintage shots of Queen’s past and scenes from the visionary 1927 science-fiction film “Metropolis.” Evidence of Queen’s cheeky nature is found in “Bicycle Race,” featuring clips of comely naked lasses riding 10-speeds around a track without a care in the world, while the simple, straight-forward performance video of Queen playing “Hammer To Fall,” “Killer Queen,””Friends Will Be Friends” and “Another One Bites the Dust” – in all its grainy 16mm glory – remind one and all of the power and majesty of Queen’s prowess as a captivating, dynamic live band.

And we’re just scratching the surface here. Iconic videos of “We Will Rock You,” “We Are the Champions,” “Bohemian Rhapsody” and, of course, the aforementioned “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” are included, as well as later works from when Queen tried to hold it together through May’s marital problems and Mercury’s disintegrating health, such “Breakthru,” which sees the foursome enduring a rather dangerous ride atop a train, and the joyously adorable “The Miracle,” with young children enthusiastically mimicking the roles of May, Mercury, Taylor and John Deacon.

These treasures alone would make “Greatest Video Hits” essential viewing, although what renders it priceless is that savagely honest and witty commentary track. So full of great anecdotes, unflinching opinions and rare insights, it goads May and Taylor into discussing the unvarnished truth behind every single video and song in the collection. Taking viewers behind the curtain, they are brutal when assessing “Scandal,” with Taylor admitting he was bored silly while making both the song and the video and May wishing it would have been more substantive considering how emotionally invested he was in the subject matter – namely, how gossip and rumor can damage not only reputations, but lives as well, as his was by the English press. Even more scathing when the subject turns to the staging of the ridiculously decadent “It’s a Hard Life,” May and Taylor can’t help chuckling at how “stupid” they look in ostentatious costuming that made a horse of Taylor and a colorful bird of paradise of Mercury. Even Queen, evidently, knew when things had gone too far.

Providing the perfect coda to “Greatest Video Hits” is the rousing anthem “One Vision.” Directed by Austrians Rudi Dolezal and Hannes Rossacher, the video is memorable for its innovative morphing of Queen’s famed 1975 pose from “Bohemian Rhapsody” into an updated portrait of the band in 1985, but, in “fly on the wall” fashion, it also peeks in on recording sessions for the track at Musicland Studios. While May remembers the sort of bunker atmosphere of the place being rather drab and depressing, the guitarist points out how galvanizing the song was for the band and what a unifying message it had for fans, as well. Even if it’s not entirely thorough – the videos for “Innuendo” and “The Show Must Go On” are missing – “Greatest Video Hits” is, in a sense, a similar vehicle for that communal vibe May found so appealing. Watch them all and bask in the warm Queen-related nostalgia that, chances are, someone else is also experiencing in a place that, suddenly, doesn’t feel so far, far away.

-            Peter Lindblad

DVD Review: Queen - "Days of Our Lives"

DVD Review: Queen - "Days of Our Lives"
Eagle Vision
All Access Review: A

Striding slowly across the stage in 1986, draped in a royal velvet robe with a gold crown on top of his head, Freddie Mercury, his head slightly tilted back, certainly bore a regal countenance. Preening to a packed stadium crowd, his arms spread wide in an ostentatious display of kingly arrogance, Mercury addressed his subjects, numbering in the thousands. As the waves of adulation began to subside at one of Queen’s final concerts, Mercury, laughing and smiling as if he didn’t have a care in the world, playfully places the crown on Roger Taylor’s head, as if abdicating his throne. To everyone, he looked as healthy as a horse. In secret, Mercury was already battling AIDS, and perhaps on some level, he knew then that he was inescapably doomed.

“I think he had an idea that he was not terribly well,” says Taylor, in between shots of the exultant audience, their arms raised to heaven in praise of Queen and the extravagant, theatrical rock and roll spectacle they were about to witness. That bit of foreshadowing from Taylor sets the stage for a moving narrative on Mercury’s last days and the touching elegy for this electric performer that encompasses much of Episode 2 of “Days of Our Lives,” an authoritative, engrossing and emotional two-part DVD documentary on Queen released on the last day of 2011, the 40^th anniversary of Queen’s birth. “Days of Our Lives” originally aired in May on BBC in the U.K. over two nights. The DVD release, also available on Blu-Ray with loads more (almost an hour’s worth of interviews and additional scenes) bonus material, includes Episodes 1 and 2, plus a clutch of seven newly created videos for some of Queen’s greatest hits and deleted footage that make for absolutely essential viewing.

It’s a ripping yarn, this tale. Told chronologically by longtime fans Rhys Thomas and Simon Lupton, with Matt Casey directing, “Days of Our Lives” neatly cleaves Queen’s career in two parts, the first spanning 1970-1980 and the second picking right up where The Game leaves off, forging straight on through the inner turmoil of Hot Space and Mercury’s tragic death, and then arriving in the present, where Mercury’s shadow still looms over the lives of the three remaining members. New interviews with Taylor and Brian May, who are both refreshingly open and honest about the excesses and infighting that threatened to destroy Queen, form the core of “Days of Our Lives” – interestingly, bassist John Deacon, considered by many to be Queen’s secret weapon, is conspicuous by his absence, his contributions limited to found interview footage from long ago. Their commentary, so engaging and revealing, is patched in smartly amongst seemingly hundreds of clips of blazing, visceral concert video – including glorious Live Aid and Wembley Stadium triumphs, and South American soccer arena blowouts, with May and Taylor, as well as other Queen insiders, reliving the tension and fear arising from their appearance in totalitarian Argentina – and an abundance of other archival footage, much of it rare and unreleased. From the scandalous “Bicycle Race” promos featuring nude women bikers pedaling their ten-speeds to scintillating TV performances (starting with the band’s first-ever “Top Of The Pops” appearance from 1974, which hasn’t been seen since then – remembered with mixed feelings by May and Taylor), scrapbook black-and-white stills from their youth, piles of interview material and vintage behind-the-scenes film culled from video shoots, “Days of Our Lives” proves to be the ultimate Queen scrapbook, lovingly compiled and artfully arranged to serve a captivating story.

“Days of Our Lives” would be an incredibly vital collection for all that alone were it not for the wealth of colorful anecdotes strewn throughout its well-ordered contents. By turns devilishly funny – as when former manager John Reid recalls walking out on Mercury in a restaurant over an interview he did without Reid’s consent, and Mercury responding by throwing a brick through Reid’s window and telling Reid, in no uncertain terms, that nobody does that to him – and crushingly sad, as when Taylor tears up remembering when he heard that Mercury had died, the documentary is an illustrious history, not given to hyperbole but ever conscious of Queen’s magnificent accomplishments. Rummaging through the past, “Days of Our Lives” thoroughly vets all of Queen’s highs and lows, from the controversial Sun City performance in a South Africa still segregated by Apartheid to the gross financial mismanagement that nearly sunk them early on and ultimately, winding up with the bittersweet catharsis that was the tribute concert for Mercury. Fascinating stories abound, including the revelation that Deacon forgot the memorable bass line he’d created for “Another One Bites The Dust” when the band went out for pizza. And, of course, there are the many remembrances of Mercury the man, courageous in the face of a terminal disease and a wildly creative workaholic right up to the very end, as he tried valiantly to squeeze in as many recordings as he could for Queen before passing on. 

Sharply edited so that every scene has an impact, “Days of Our Lives” runs along at a pace that is quick but not hurried. The story of how Smile morphed into Queen is fleshed out with just enough detail to whet appetites for what’s to come, and from there, “Days of Our Lives” segues seamlessly into the making of Queen I and II, tracking Queen’s early stages of growth and development with surprising candor, humor and historical truth. On the cusp of a breakthrough, Queen kicked down the door with Sheer Heart Attack, and the sophisticated artistry that designed “Killer Queen” is dissected with scientific curiosity. The remainder of “Days of Our Lives” walks that fine line between entertainment and information delivery with relaxed confidence and clarity of vision, all while somehow controlling a gushing geyser of details related to Queen’s recording sessions – particular attention being paid to the groundbreaking multi-tracking techniques and choral-like blending of voices that sounded so angelic on “Somebody to Love” and a bevy of signature Queen tracks – and other key moments in the band’s tumultuous life.

Billed as “the definitive documentary of the world’s greatest rock band,” “Days of Our Lives” is all that and more. And while it is slightly less audacious than Mercury was onstage, it does capture all the pomp and circumstance that made Queen a stadium-rock sensation – for proof, see the deft shuffling of clips of “One Vision” brought to life through May’s cutting riffs and Mercury’s spine-tingling vocals. At Live Aid, Mercury was in rare form, whipping the masses into a writhing, joyous state of ecstasy that threatened to lift Wembley off its foundations. He truly was rock royalty, and so was the classic Queen lineup. Guaranteed to blow your mind, “Days of Our Lives” is that rare video biography that’s both grounded in reality and a completely transcendent experience. Somewhere, Freddie Mercury is smiling. 

- Peter Lindblad