i've owned the soundtrack to d.a. pennebaker's ziggy stardust for awhile now. today, i finally saw the film, playing exclusively at the film forum through tomorrow.

in front of the smallest crowd he's played since the early mod days, bowie gave his all. it was, after all, 1:00 on the next-to-last day of its run; everyone who's wanted to see it, has done so already; the rest are likely waiting until tomorrow night's 8:20 showing with pennebaker. the movie is very much a "concert film" and shouldn't be mislabeled as a "documentary": pennebaker had very little time with bowie, so, besides the onstage footage, one gets approximately 15 minutes total of shooting outside the theatre, of bowie being made up (to wife angela: "what do you know about makeup? you're only a girl"), and of bowie's costume changes (of which there were 5, not including the costumes worn under outfits that were ritually stripped off of him). and, as a concert, the sound is fantastic and the performances are nothing short of mesmerizing.

the footage of the queue outside the hammersmith is most revealing: i've always considered bowie and, particularly, ziggy to be a subversive performer. there are, of course, the lyrics:
-"time - he flexes like a whore, falls wanking to the floor..."
-"my death waits between your thighs..."
-"suck, baby, suck, give me your head..."
-not to mention a generous sprinkling of asses and bitches.

there are, also, the sights:
-bowie himself, obviously.
-poorly concealed bikini briefs.
-ronson mounting dame bowie.
-ronson and trevor bolder simulating man-love with their, hem hem, instruments.
-and all manners of gesticulation by david.

but! what panning across the fans on line demonstrates is quite another thing entirely. there are youths, gangs of them. tough looking kids, sweet looking kids, and kids who look like their parents dropped them off and will be back in exactly two hours. and then, ho ho, and then there are the families. mom, dad, sis and bro, all with identical thunderbolt face paint. a family gathering out on london town.

seeing all of this suggests to me what i discovered while watching behind the makeup six or seven times: the scene is exactly like that outside of a kiss concert, at the peak of their popularity, ca. 1976. kiss started as a fairly subversive if conventional band who found themselves embraced by the public. it began with the families in makeup, and it ended with kiss meets the phantom of the park.

much is the same, but, by the same token, much is very different. there was very little suggestion of homosexuality in kiss's schtick. (okay, peter criss's kitty-cat makeup was kinda gay) and for bowie, the story would end much differently: one of the more thrilling aspects of the concert is the fact that it was the last show the spiders from mars would ever do, as bowie pronounced quite dramatically prior to set-closer "rock 'n' roll suicide." that being the case, bowie & band pulled out all of the stops: the aformentioned costume changes, blinding lights, backstage guest ringo starr, much flouncing about by all involved...if you're on the fence regarding this film, here's the reason to see it: bowie MIMES! during "the width of a circle," he reaches all the way back to his early days. he's trapped in a box! he can't get out! finally, he finds a seam, pushes his way through the cracks, and flies away. it's everything good miming should be.

during the concert sections, onstage footage is interspersed with shots of crowd reaction, and the reactions is quite unlike anything i've ever seen. tears streaming down faces; fans jockeying for position nearest the stage; arms outstretched, always, hands forever trying to grasp a sliver of cast-off glamour or, at the very least, the folds of bowie's kimono -- boys, girls, old and young. it's like a combination of a soccer match, a southern tent revival, and a michael jackson concert: they are totally in the spiders' thrall. ronson nears the edge of the stage and is nearly consumed whole; near the end, bowie attempts the same with security's arms wrapped around his waist.

as mentioned, the show ends with "rock 'n' roll suicide," and there isn't a song in the bowie canon more suited for the purpose, the ultimate statement of unity between artist and audience. bowie sang it from the catwalk, in front of a sea of limbs, exhorting the audience to give them his hands, grabbing them where prudent. as he concludes, one fan gets up on stage, a teeenaged male, and hugs bowie before he, i.e. the fan, is tackled by security -- a perfect conclusion and a visual metaphor for bowie: always so close, but forever distant. unlike kiss, he never, at his peak, capitulated to the demands of his audience, lapsing into self-parody, though he did occasionally play to them. next up for bowie was the ill-starred "halloween jack" followed soon after by the more successful thin white duke; his audience could follow him or not, their choice. as "rock 'n' roll suicide" comes to an end, ziggy stardust says "thank you" and "we love you" before exiting stage left, taking his legion in his hand one last time, blowing them a kiss farewell, and leaving them to the whims of the wind. if you count yourself as one of those who slipped through his fingers or are merely interested as to how he acquired such a following in the first place, seeing this film is an absolute must.