In the end the human being born David Robert Haywood Jones in Brixton, England on Jan. 8, 1947 was shooting for the stars �" even if he had to ditch his surname, dye his hair, learn an instrument, switch countries, and tell the Queen to go stuff herself. Indeed, a star he became, complete with a symbolic star on Hollywood Blvd.
The man who became David Bowie, a.k.a. Ziggy Stardust, didn't actually make all that many movies �" the whole process was a tad slow for his liking �" but the ones he deigned to appear in are, on the whole, a cut above the ordinary. Topping the list is 1976's The Man Who Fell to Earth, directed by Nicolas Roeg and featuring a 29-year-old androgynous Bowie as an alien who visits our wet planet in hopes of finding water for his very dry one.
The Man Who Fell to Earth would prove to be the Bowie film template: he portrays an otherworldly creature who inspires a perilous mix of lust, envy, and S/M control issues �" ultimately, it's the perfect paradigm for the science fiction world's ongoing warnings of doom for our species. The movie is a good adaptation of Walter Tevis' novel. Descending upon Earth like a comet, Bowie's alien quickly discovers a group of curious humans and makes them an offer they won't refuse: the financial rewards from nine basic patents that outstrip existing human technology in several distinct areas.
The movie benefits enormously from the quirky charisma of two oddball character actors: Rip Torn as an avuncular quasi-mad scientist-academic, and veteran screenwriter Buck Henry, known for his huge contributions to The Graduate and Catch 22. A witty subplot involves Henry's character being married to another man who's curious and extremely nearsighted. Henry reportedly wondered out loud why his character was gay.
With Candy Clark as the nattering love interest for the alien, The Man Who Fell to Earth remains a highly watchable science fiction drama, whose only rival comes from the work of Spielberg and Lucas.
Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence (1983) This English language debut feature from Japanese master Nagisa Oshima plays on the surface as a kind of hipster remake of David Lean's multi-Oscar POW camp classic The Bridge on the River Kwai. The film is essentially a battle of cultures and wills between a stiff-necked Japanese camp commander and a steadfast British major (Bowie). Supporting player Tom Conti steals some of the dramatic thunder as a bilingual prisoner, but the film is evidence of just how good Bowie could be if he were cast for his acting abilities, as opposed to his pop-celebrity freak status.
Labyrinth (1986) One of the strangest entries on the Bowie film resume, this Jim Henson (of the Muppets) -directed kids' tale involves Bowie as a "King of the Goblins" creature who abducts a teen girl's baby brother. Good of a kind.
The Hunger (1983) Director Tony Scott's stylish female vampire movie really bugged mainstream movie-maven Leonard Maltin, but for those who don't find a Catherine Deneuve/Susan Sarandon bed scene to be an appalling excess, there's a great Bowie aging scene that's a worthy showstopper.
Prestige (2006) Christopher Nolan's multi-star (13 good names) drama about a turn-of-century (19th into 20th) magic show (adapted from Christopher Priest's novel) is again a matter of taste, and represents the last major screen outing by Bowie.
There's a revealing Bowie quote from 1983, found on the Internet Movie Data Base (IMDB), that succinctly sums up the dilemma facing "Ziggy" as he fielded film offers. "I get offered so many bad movies. And they're all raging queens or transvestites or Martians."
From 2002: "I had no problem with people knowing I was bisexual. But I had no inclination to hold any banners or be a representative of any group of people. I knew what I wanted to be, which was a songwriter and a performer, and I felt that bisexuality became my headline over here for so long. America is a very puritanical place, and I think it stood in the way of so much I wanted to do."
Much of what he wanted to do was his music, 26 albums in all. The films were an extra treat, hopefully the basis of a future Castro Theatre retrospective.