Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * *

Cast: Johnny Flynn, Marc Maron, Jena Malone, Derek Moran, Anthony Flanagan, Julian Richings, Aaron Poole, Monica Parker, Ryan Blakely, Gord Rand, Paulino Nunes, Richard Clarkin, Brendan J. Rowland, Jeremy Legat, Annie Briggs, Olivia Carruthers, Geoffrey McGivern, Lara Heller, Martin Askew, Dylan Roberts, Olivia Becker, James Cade, David Hubbard, Jorja Cadence, Gracie Robbin.

To be constrained by feelings of inadequacy, of guilt, or of range, to believe that your voice will be lost in a sea of thousands as they jostle for attention in the screaming void, is perhaps to understand madness, or at least fear it.

It is to the notion of madness that the audience is informed of such feelings in the Gabriel Range written Stardust, the unauthorised biopic of David Bowie’s life between 1970 and the release of The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars in 1972.

Whilst unauthorised, and battling against the inevitable fallout of curtailing detailed examination of the much-loved artist’s life, culminating in not being able to use any of the songs he had already written for Hunky Dory, The Man Who Sold The World, or the 1969 album David Bowie, Stardust does have beauty on its side, it has heart, and while that is arguably not enough to convey the same sense of appreciation that followed the Elton John biopic Rocketman, or the sensation that is Bohemian Rhapsody, it nevertheless acts as a catalyst, a conduit, for further in depth portrayals and showcases of a man who inspired millions to shed their masks and be true to their own life.

It is understandable that the Bowie estate would not give the film its glowing endorsement, control after all, belongs to those who had the artist in their life every day and to holders of the material’s copyright, but it does leave a gap in the film. Yet the makers of Stardust found a way to show how the chameleon-like Bowie started his persuasive call on constant reinvention, and by placing the dialogue against his fears of falling into madness like his brother and his aunts, of being thrust into the nightmare scenario of touring America in a way that did nothing for his confidence, even with the security of Ron Oberman by his side, the film comes off with poise and grace, even if it doesn’t possess the assurance of credibility which would have come with endorsement.

Other films have suffered such a fate, a tale after all is only as good as the material it can work with, but Stardust does at least allow the fan a peek behind the curtain of the troubled young mind as Bowie finds his way to stand out in a world which embraces conformity and orthodox behaviour.

With good performances by Johnny Flynn as David Bowie, Marc Maron as Ron Oberman and Derek Moran as his brother, the fictionalised account of Bowie’s initial trip to America at least holds its own, and for that it deserves praise.

Stardust is not definitive, nor should it be treated as gospel or with absolute reverence, but it does at least serve its purpose, and if it means that at some point the fans receive their in-depth portrayal, then it must be watched, enjoyed, and greeted as one would smile at warmly at a crowd of strangers.

Ian D. Hall