Spirited and earnest the many documentaries of David Bowie may be, not one of them comes close to identifying the man at the heart of it all. That is too big a task to undertake. Bowie shifted his image so many times over a near five-decade career that it is impossible to chart his longevity. His presence was always there, but Moonage Daydream hopes to chart it all. How can man kill the space where God once was, is what Bowie once asked of his audience. Such a bold question opens up Moonage Daydream as an interpretation not of Bowie’s music but of the man himself, the person which held so much talent and the lucid desire to understand it.
An agonisingly broad montage creates a visual and material soundscape that captures just about everything and anything Bowie could and should stand for. Documentarian Brett Morgen takes on the ultimate challenge and comes through with a documentary as undefined and intense as the artist it makes no attempt at dismantling. It is hard to figure where the line is drawn between Bowie discussing himself earnestly and Morgen’s deep delve into the archives that could project what he believes the artist would perceive. Pairing unseen footage, truly gorgeous, glorious and lucid moments with live performances from Bowie is a natural way of displaying the story, but how much of that relies on the conjecture found on the cutting room floor is unknowable. Having the Bowie state seal of approval certainly helps.
Even if Morgen is depicting what he hopes Bowie was as an art entity, Moonage Daydream is still far beyond that of most contemporary documentaries on music. Experimental in a way that is still reliant on the fundamentals of the genre. Morgen relies on the emotion Bowie’s music can conjure rather than the anecdotes and memories so many surely have. Powerful collection is far better than having a friend of the family rattle off what Bowie meant to them. Morgan does well to capture the slight moments that interviewees offer up. Even if these are Bowie’s own words, interpretation is so important to Moonage Daydream and how it presents the major strokes of a legendary career. Credit to Morgen though, his timekeeping and pacing for this feature is intense, touching on all the right moments that deflect media perception or fan culture for who Bowie was behind the scenes.
Doing so is integral in not understanding Bowie, which would be impossible, but in noting his influence. Moonage Daydream shows the state of reinvention as a conscious and intense choice that Bowie would often throw himself into. There is clarity in that exploration that comes from Morgen and his tireless effort in stitching up a decent assembly of never-before-seen footage. That is the draw for the more dedicated Bowie fan. Beyond that though is a broad feeling of actual understanding, of some refined point to be made over the legacy of Bowie’s work. It may not be correct, but it cannot solidify the claims it makes and nor should it because the work of Bowie is at its most interesting when it is displayed for what it is. Morgen makes inferences throughout Moonage Daydream, but never commits to the act of commenting specifically.
