A Tribute to David Bowie's Influence on Films

Dakota Johnson in The Runaways

There's a moment early on in director Floria Sigismondi's The Runaways in which Cherie Curie (Dakota Johnson) dons the familiar pink lightning make-up of her idol David Bowie. As a crowd jeers at her ridiculous, flamboyant get-up, she sings as if in protest. It was the birth of her discovering her identity, and is likely the story of how many artists and outsiders found their voice. To many, Bowie was the strange alien of who made people feel less alone. He was flamboyant, heady, and unlike anything before. It is fitting then that following his death on January 10, 2016, the world now dons the pink lightning make-up for a more understanding audience. He was a pioneer that made the world a more interesting place. While it does seem fitting to directly address what made him interesting, I have decided to make my tribute to him in something more telling of his influence. I'm choosing to dedicate this piece to how he impacted cinema.

One would be mistaken to cover this without acknowledging that he was an actor, who worked with a lot of fine voices over his career. Whether you remember him for his momentary cameo in Zoolander or his impressive work in The Prestige, you were aware that this was an artist through and through. He brought passion to everything, even if it required him pushing buttons in the process. However, in the way that many would borrow Bowie's iconography, the singer borrowed from pop culture. While his most iconic creation, Ziggy Stardust, owes its look in part to director Stanley Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange, his most recognizable film role as Jareth the Goblin King in Labyrinth borrows from something more obscure. During the song "Dance Magic," he recites the lyrics:

"You remind me of the babe with the power. What power? Power of voodoo. Who do? You do. Do what? Remind me of the babe."

As immediately catchy as those lyrics are, one would be forgiven for not knowing that it's a play on an ongoing joke in the 1948 Cary Grant/Shirley Temple comedy by director Irving Rels called The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer, which replaces "babe" with "man" and "voodoo" with hoodoo." For a man whose influence was mighty, it's astounding that he would choose to reference such an obscure film and turn it into a pop hit. While this is one example of how cinema has influenced Bowie, the remainder of this piece will hopefully explore how Bowie influenced cinema away from his control, where the artists who listened to him turned to choice tracks to make their art more distinctive.

Scene from Velvet Goldmine

It would only seem right to start at director Todd Haynes' Velvet Goldmine. It may seem inopportune, especially since it wasn't the first film to incorporate Bowie. However, it's likely a very puzzling selection, largely because of how much Bowie detested the script - even contemplating a lawsuit due to various similarities. While the film is unable to use his music, other glam rock standards that populated 80's culture were present. Despite this, the protagonist mirrored a lot of Bowie's own culture during the Ziggy Stardust era. The fake band's names and music shared vague similarities. The vibrant, colorful outfits could possibly seen at knockoff stores. Legally, the film is loosely based on Bowie. Otherwise, it's arguably the film that highlights what he meant to a subsection of individuals.

One cannot look at the film without understanding why that was. It's most notable in Arthur Stuart's (Christian Bale) embrace of the culture. As he points to a Bowie-esque man on TV, he claims the flamboyantly dressed man as his identity, treating him almost as a savior. The film only continues to delve into the identity of glam rock culture, throwing away pretensions slowly until it's left with the heart of why the music was so appealing to outsiders. Much like Cherie Curie in The Runaways, it was that defiance against societal (and even gender) norms of the time. It was okay to be bisexual and dress provocatively. For a film that doesn't intend to be about Bowie, it does a great job of expressing why he was loved. He was that icon for which people could embrace their inner beauty queen and be themselves.

It may not be the only film to address Bowie's influence on glam rock, but it's the perfect barometer of why Bowie was a singular sensation. Of course, he was important to the straight creative artists as well. It didn't always matter if you dressed colorfully. It was always about keeping audiences guessing, especially as he transitioned between periods with such ease. Even if he never had one as recognizable as Ziggy Stardust, one cannot help but feel like artists including Lady GaGa and Bjork owe some credit to him with their own weird sensibility. However, to stop at the appearance is to ignore what else Bowie brought. His music could be alien, but it could also be some of the most passionate work on display.

Among the more harrowing uses was in director Lars von Trier's Breaking the Waves. The film itself is about the unfortunate relationship between a woman and her paralyzed husband. It is also broken up into chapters, where 70's rock songs play over static scenes of European landscapes. Bowie's song comes in the section titled "Epilogue: The Funeral," in which the film reaches its bleakest. With his 1971 tune "Life on Mars?" playing, it is hard not to feel immediately transfixed by von Trier's juxtaposition between a song about media and his own story of self-sacrifice. While both have disparaging differences, there's something beautiful to how it serves almost as a prelude. Bowie's voice becomes haunting as it proceeds into his song about a "God awful love affair." Even if you're unable to see parallels in story, one cannot help but notice how Bowie's song works against a static shot of a river. It's beautiful, yet jarring. Much like Bowie himself.
To go down the entire list is to notice how great his impact actually was. For a man whose most known album features "Spiders from Mars" in the title, he has resonated in unsuspecting ways. He isn't just the gay icon for Velvet Goldmine, he was able to have his music serve as both comedic fodder ("Space Oddity" in Mr. Deeds) and the search for a deeper identity. One doesn't have to look further than 2015's final season of Mad Men to see how this works. As protagonist Don Draper hitchhikes across America, "Space Oddity" kicks in. While the song is about Bowie's "Major Tom" going into outer space, it metaphorically manages to be about Draper's freedom from his shackled life as an ad man. There's nothing spacey about this Mad Men scene, yet it fits perfectly into the story's tone. 
To say the least, it's impossible to fully appreciate Bowie's impact on film, largely because he has become like Frank Sinatra. His music has felt like it always been used. Between his many periods, he has written songs for outsiders wishing to have a voice. He has also just made really effective pop music, challenging the conceptual game in ways that Pink Floyd or The Who weren't doing fast enough. Most of all, he never sounded conventional. Even during the most traditional of songs, his voice would either sound off key or the rhythm would be a little askew. Even if he had many that he influenced, it's impossible to mistake his work for someone else's.

His influence was in more than America. He was an icon for cinema to use in countries around the world. For instance, French director Leos Carax famously used "Modern Love" to depict a jubilant moment for his protagonist (played by Denis Levant). As he runs, he dances. It's possibly one of the most joyous scenes of life in film, made more incredible by Levant's flexibility and the strangely effective backdrop. It manages to visually encapsulate freedom and life in ways that words couldn't. If this scene looks familiar, it's because director Noah Baumbach incorporated it into his 2013 film Frances Ha - which also uses "Modern Love" to depict a joyous shift in its protagonist's (played by Greta Gerwig) life. Baumbach's use of Bowie didn't stop there, as it also served as a motif in the 2015 film While We're Young (this time with "Golden Years"). Director Wes Anderson's film The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (co-written by Baumbach) also features Bowie's music, this time in a cover of "Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars." 

It may seem unfair to judge Bowie by how others used his work, but it's inevitably what made him great. For everything that he did, it wouldn't seem as significant if there wasn't some sense of reception. So while this tribute has barely scratched the surface of his appeal, it's impressive of how broad it went. His music was used in films both straight and LGBT; in English and foreign; and most of all, it was used to depict the spectrum of emotions. So while we have lost an icon, it is likely that his pink lightning bolt will continue to grace our cinema for decades to come. He transcends categorization, and for that we should be grateful. He was an artist who pushed creativity beyond its understood bounds. For that alone, he deserves the respect of his peers, most of whom likely wouldn't be where they are without him singing to them through headphones.