‘Moonage Daydream’ Tries to Capture David Bowie’s Sound and Vision in Impressionistic Video Album

Like Jesus, Elvis or Obi-Wan Kenobi, David Bowie seems bigger in death than he was in life (and yes, he was a pretty big deal when he was alive too). Heroes may win the day but legends live forever, and Bowie has now ascended into legend, becoming the “archetype messiah rockstar” (his words) he molded his Ziggy Stardust persona after. Since his January 2016 death at the age of 69, I can think of at least two other Bowie documentaries that have come out, along with reissues, retrospectives, and tributes from those who knew him or merely copied him. 

The 2022 film, Moonage Daydream, is the latest celebration of Bowie’s life and work, and is currently available for rent on a variety of streaming services. It was directed by Brett Morgan, who’s previous documentaries The Kid Stays in The Picture and Kurt Cobain: Montage of Heck fused animation and live action to tell their stories. The first film to be officially authorized by Bowie’s estate, it features previously unreleased footage from Bowie’s archives, including rare live performances and home movies. Not exactly a bio-doc, certainly not a concert film, its collage of sound and vision attempts to explain his greatness while charting his presence here on Earth.

From “Space Oddity” to “Blackstar,” outer space was always a popular color on Bowie’s painter’s palette. The film begins with a voiceover of Bowie discussing God, time, memory and desire while graphics of moon scapes and dead astronauts appear on screen. We then travel back to London in the early 1970s, where wee English lasses cry outside his shows while Bowie and the Spiders from Mars have a rave up with the recently and dearly departed Jeff Beck on the Beatles’ “Love Me Do.”

Without getting bogged down in chronology, Moonage Daydream covers the basics of Bowie’s life through archival interviews and photo montages. Bowie credits his sense of otherness to his upbringing; the stifling boredom of the London suburbs and his parents’ loveless marriage. His older brother offered a lifeline, introducing him to art, jazz and literature, but succumbed to mental illness leaving scabs Bowie would tend to and then rip off throughout his life. 

Bowie’s bisexuality is briefly discussed, though in truth he lived as a heterosexual man for the majority of his life. Even if it was just lip service, however, his gender-bending image – his proclivity for make-up and the odd dress – created a beachhead for women, members of the LGBTQ community and others to find their footing in the often-macho environs of rock n’ roll. Reflecting later, he says he was trying to invoke those “Greek gods who could procreate themselves” and had “both feminine and masculine attributes.” Well, how about that?

After achieving fame and stardom, Bowie moved to L.A., “a city I detest,” as some sort of psychological endurance test and got increasingly wacky. Footage from the time shows him looking truly alien, rail thin with reptilian eyes bugging out of his head. Seeking renewal, he relocated to West Berlin where he collaborated on a series of albums with Brian Eno which placed him ahead of the new age he had inspired into existence. Ironically, while Bowie talked about experimentation and process, the era resulted in some of his most beloved songs. With his emphasis on visuals and ear for new musical trends, Bowie was made for the 1980s. 

After years at the cutting edge, he felt the need to connect with people, and found acceptance in the American mainstream. He speaks of making music that is warm, simple, emotional, and positive. When not filling stadiums, he worked as an actor and created paintings and sculptures in his free time, good ones by the look of it.  Change, was of course, the only constant in Bowie’s life and art. Fending off accusations of sell-out, the ‘90s saw him starting new projects and collaborating with younger artists.

While Bowie felt at home in the decade, footage shows him struggling to look current, wearing leather pants and a duster decorated with the Union Jack. For the first time in his life, he looks not strange but silly.  In his late 40s, Bowie married the model Iman. Madly in love, he was longer willing to put his career before his relationships. The tours came less often but the work never ceased. Video showing Bowie feverishly laboring over a giant canvas which features the head of a minotaur, and a dancer dressed in kind, speak to some project I’m unaware of but was obviously near to his heart. Bowie would work up until his death, releasing the album Blackstar two days prior, a final farewell before returning to stardust. 

Moonage Daydream has much to recommend it but may only appeal to hardcore Bowie fans. The live footage is stunning, reminding you that besides his high-minded ideas and fashion sense, Bowie was a gifted vocalist and performer that always stacked his bands with exceptional musicians. But there isn’t enough of it and the performances are often obfuscated and overwhelmed by voiceovers and graphics. As a bio-doc, it’s impressionistic at best, which isn’t necessarily a problem, but even at over two hours long, much is rushed over. The end result is akin to a video album of “Bowie’s Greatest Hits” without enough substance to completely satisfy. 

Benjamin H. Smith is a New York based writer, producer and musician. Follow him on Twitter:@BHSmithNYC.