The martyr theme was overwrought. If genuine life belongs to someone else, someone before that must be emulated down to the details, what can be said of its imposter? Talented? Of course. But what if his daughter chose to be Marilyn and copied her into her own early demise? Would the father still undaunted support? Given the set up of the movie, it was hard to understand whether Elvis was distraction away from real life sensibilities or was an obsession that naturally crowded out such sensibilities. Either way, the overwhelming feeling is pity and not congratulations. Maybe dusting off the blue suede shoes and applying some dark hair dye could have prolonged the memory... let alone the life.
Review of The Last Elvis
