One
last shot at the title. A final chance at
glory before the sun sets on a career. It's
the stuff that legendary sports dramas are
made of. Except this one's about a guy chasing
his dream to be crowned The World's Greatest
Elvis Impersonator.
Irv Cass, Johnny Thompson,
Quentin Flagg, and Steve Sogura are but
four of the millions of Elvis impersonators
across this country and around the globe.
Grown men – sometimes women –
that dress in rhinestone jumpsuits, black
leather outfits or gold lame suits to belt
out the tunes of The King before adoring
women. As cultural phenomenon's go, it's
a doozy.
The flick follows the impersonators
as they compete in local and regional competitions
for a chance to get to Memphis and battle
it out in the Images of Elvis World Championships,
referred to in no uncertain terms as "The
Super Bowl of Elvis Competitions."
Which would make The Super Bowl "The
Images of Elvis of Football Games."
Along the way we meet Quentin
Flagg, the teenage Elvis impersonator from
the middle of nowhere who hangs out with
a guy who does Buddy Holly impersonations.
Bet that doesn't look strange in the high
school hallways. His parents, especially
his father, seem to have unrealistic expectations
of where Quentin's gyrating and hunka-hunka
will take him, but I'm sure Elvis would
want them to dream the impossible dream.
Johnny Thompson is a kung-fu Elvis, a real
martial arts champ who went so far as to
have his nose fixed to look more like Elvis's.
There's even Robert Washington, a two-time
"Images of Elvis" runner-up, though
some whisper that he'll never win the title
because he's black.
But none of their stories
compare with that of Steve Sogura (Custodian
Elvis). Sogura mops the halls at a rural
American grade school, hoping for the day
when he'll win a competition and get the
chance to make a living impersonating Elvis.
And though they tell us that the kids at
the school aren't mocking him, I think we
all know the truth. Sogura finally gets
his chance, breaks free from the shackles
of throwing that orange stuff on vomit when
he becomes a cruise ship Elvis. Only to
end up back as a custodian when that gig
is over.
Irv Cass emerges as the front-runner
for the title in what he says will be his
final shot at glory. A legend in the Elvis
impersonator world (we even see him signing
autographs early in the flick), Cass is
a good ol' boy, a hearty eating former male
dancer who wants to lose weight for the
competition yet doesn't want to give up
pasta, garlic toast and parmesan cheese.
The movie succeeds as much as it does because
Cass is so likable, never taking himself
too seriously, always aware that he's impersonating
Elvis, not curing cancer.
It all comes down to the big
Elvis championship in Memphis. Will Irv
go out on top? Can a black Elvis win the
title? How creepy is it to see these old
broads eyeing up the 15-year-old Quentin
like a piece of fresh meat?
ALMOST ELVIS is a fun flick,
though you can't help but think that it
could've been much better, more interesting.
We never get deep down into the motivation
of either the impersonators or the scads
of fans (mostly old women) who travel to
backroads bars, gaudy casinos, and Southern
shrines to watch their Elvis perform. Questions
still abound (like why do so many focus
on the Vegas-era E when it was really the
least impressive era of musical output?)
leaving me to wait and wonder until somebody
else tackles the subject.
