Five years after he was recalled to his home galaxy, David Bowie’s loss still feels like a major rupture, an annual cenotaph-style pause for mass mourning even in the depths of the covid crisis. On the weekend that straddles both the late starman’s 74th birthday and the anniversary of his death, these two major livestream events are welcome reminders not just of his enduring musical genius, but also his spectacular pretentiousness and gloriously overblown naffness. Often overlooked amid all the posthumous highbrow reverence, preposterous peacock poncery is a crucial part of Bowie’s legacy too.
An off-Broadway avant-musical that was playing to packed houses when Bowie died, Lazarus remains a ripe old bag of onions. It is notionally a semi-sequel to The Man Who Fell To Earth, with Michael C Hall stepping into Bowie’s screen role as Thomas Jerome Newton, an extra-terrestrial Howard Hughes tormented by long-lost love and boozy hallucination. The fairy-tale plot is an overstuffed mess, but director Ivo van Hove’s stylish production still dazzles with high-art visuals and superbly staged musical numbers. It’s the freakiest show, but full of interesting touches, especially the knowing parallels with Bowie’s own life and his looming death.