Before he became Vegas-ized and the campy target of every wanna-be impersonator (at a recent party, I spied an "old Elvis" in deep conversation with a "Vegas Elvis"), Elvis Presley was to rock 'n' roll what Robert Johnson was to the blues—he certainly didn't invent it, but he absolutely defined its terms.
Elvis himself did much to help us forget his place in the rock pantheon. He followed his groundbreaking Young Elvis period in the '50s with 29 of the most insipid movies to ever star a star. Ben Affleck can sleep easy; no matter how bad Gigli was, it was no Harum Scarum. And then there was the Fat Elvis era that everyone seems to remember most, even though it marked his sad descent in the final years.
But in between Movie Elvis and Fat Elvis was one of the most musically fertile periods of his career, beginning with the startling comeback he made in 1968 and ending around 1973 when his wife divorced him and he compensated by consuming drugs like candy. It is fitting that BMG Entertainment would simultaneously release DVD "deluxe editions" of the two television shows that book-end that era: Elvis: The '68 Comeback Special and 1973's Aloha From Hawaii.
The three-disc 1968 set may not be the Holy Grail for Elvis fans, but it's close. At the time, Elvis had been away from live audiences for seven years while he pursued his movie career. Imagine if Michael Jordan had played minor league baseball for seven years, then came back to the NBA to win the championship. It's easy to forget that, like Jordan in his prime, at one time there was Elvis and then there was everybody else. Only when he tried to become something he wasn't, a movie star, did he become decidedly human.
When Elvis contracted to do a December 8 special for NBC in 1968, the plan was to have him come out and sing 26 Christmas songs. Steve Binder, who was hired to produce and direct the show, thought that would be career suicide for Elvis. Early in the rehearsals at a studio on the Sunset Strip, Binder challenged Elvis to walk across the street and stand in front of a strip joint called The Classic Cat. He did, and nobody recognized him; people were literally bumping into him and apologizing. For the King of Rock 'n' Roll, it was the ultimate wake-up call. Binder saw the special as a chance for salvation, and he sold it to Elvis on those terms. "I realized, here's a guy who's totally frustrated," says Binder. "He didn't know if he had it any longer. But I never doubted him. Ever."
Binder put him in front of a live audience, and told him to be Elvis. Dressed in black leather with his hand shaking as he reached for the microphone for the first song, Elvis transformed the special into high drama. Here was a man reaching out to recapture his essence, to be the man he used to be. From the opening moments when he practically snarled his first lines ("If you're lookin' for trouble / You came to the right place") there was a sense of danger and purpose and even desperation that Elvis had never shown before. It fueled the best performance of his life. Elvis would never again sing with that much passion, that much command, with so much on the line. He prowled the tiny stage with the nervous energy of a panther eager to hunt. Elvis also invented the concept of MTV Unplugged on the comeback special, jamming on old blues songs and playing better rhythm guitar than anyone has ever given him credit for.
By contrast, the 1973 special was Elvis' last. It was a momentous occasion, the first concert beamed live worldwide via satellite, and it drew the second largest audience in television history. Elvis had shed 20 or 30 pounds and looked great. The show was entertaining enough, but the King sang and moved like man walking underwater. All semblance of vitality had vanished, and it was a harbinger of things to come.
No recording star has been more ill-served by his record label than Elvis. His albums were usually hodge-podges in shoddy packaging that lacked even essential information such as the musicians, and these DVDs are no exception. If you already own the Aloha show on DVD, the new "deluxe edition" doesn't offer much you don't already have. And the opportunities were endless: how about interviews with his band, especially legendary lead guitarist James Burton? How about a commentary by Peter Guralnick, Elvis's esteemed biographer? How about some imagination?
While the "deluxe edition" of the '68 special offers the complete unaired footage (some of it revelatory, much of it deathly dull), the sound and video quality is only marginally improved from the original DVD. And why not offer an interview with Elvis's other legendary lead guitarist, Scotty Moore? Or, better yet, a director's commentary from Binder? Binder says he wasn't asked, and he bristles that two men from Elvis Presley Enterprises take producer and director credits for the DVD edition. "All they did was transfer the two-inch masters and put them on digital," he says. "The DVD is great for hard-core Elvis Presley fans, but the general public ... it would have been wonderful to have been able to clue them in with a commentary."
And Binder has wonderful stories to tell. Elvis was supposed to close the '68 special with a Christmas song, but Binder wanted something more dramatic. So he told the musical director, Earl Brown, to go home and write the song of his life. Brown came back the next day with a song called "If I Can Dream." The backing musical track was pre-recorded, and Elvis was to sing it live in front of the camera. After the band cut the track in the studio, Elvis asked if he could put a practice vocal on the recording. "We turned all the lights out, and Elvis started to sing," says Binder. "He ha a hand mike and the next thing I know, he's down on the floor in a fetal position singing. It was goose-bumps time. It was an amazing thing to see."
After the special, Elvis told Binder that he was never again going to sing a song he didn't believe in. Seven months later, Elvis returned to live performances at the International Hotel (now the Hilton) on Paradise Road with eye-popping shows that continued the resuscitation of his career. That period of his comeback is chronicled on the brilliantly conceived DVD Elvis: That's The Way It Is—Special Edition which, not coincidentally, came from Turner Classic Movies and not Elvis' label. "The first time I saw Elvis in Las Vegas, he had all the energy," says Binder. "I went back a few months later, and it was horrible. You could tell the passion was gone. The tragedy of his life is he became a Las Vegas performer rather than climb new mountains. I personally think he ultimately died of boredom."
The Aloha From Hawaii show has its moments, but it is not essential. Elvis '56 (also just re-released), The '68 Comeback Special and Elvis: That's The Way It Is are all you need to know about Elvis Presley. And if it came down to one moment, it would be the '68 special.
"He had such raw talent," says Binder. "We wanted to do a show that nobody else could do if he didn't do it. That was our goal. We had no clue that in 2004 it would still be so significant."
Steve Binder caught magic in a bottle. And what? He didn't think anyone would notice?