From its opening moments, Gabriel Range’s “Stardust” vows to do things a little bit differently, kicking off with both a warning and a promise: “What follows is (mostly) fiction.” The shape of it is true-ish enough: set in 1971 after the release of his “The Man Who Sold the World,” a still-struggling David Bowie (an explosive Johnny Flynn) has yet to break into the cultural consciousness. Surrounded by people who love him — and are thus convinced of his place in the pantheon of musical geniuses, even if his entree will have to wait for some future date when everyone else gets hip — Bowie is forced to swallow a bitter pill: He’s just not a star. But, of course, he is, and just needs to show the world his special brand of magic.
With the apparent freedom afforded to him by that winking announcement, it’s understandable that audiences might...
With the apparent freedom afforded to him by that winking announcement, it’s understandable that audiences might...
- 4/16/2020
- by Kate Erbland
- Indiewire
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