INTRODUCTION

There are moments in a music lover’s life when the ordinary rules of time seem to loosen their grip. Sitting in a darkened theater, watching Elvis Presley fill a screen taller than a house, is one of those moments. For those of us who have spent decades studying, collecting, comparing mixes, debating edits, and memorizing set lists, the arrival of Baz Luhrmann’s latest large-format presentation felt less like a screening and more like a reckoning.

Let us address the title head-on: EPIC Elvis Presley in Concert Review: How much new footage? That is the question echoing across fan forums, collector circles, and living rooms from Memphis to Melbourne. And it deserves a thoughtful answer.

I. The Big Screen Shockwave

Watching Elvis in a cinema is not merely nostalgic — it is transformative. I still recall my first theatrical viewing of Elvis: That’s The Way It Is during its 2014 limited run. I walked out whispering to myself that it felt like the front row at the International Hotel in Las Vegas. The sheer scale of his presence — the tilt of his head, the flash of the TCB lightning bolt, the way the stage lights bounced off his rings — simply cannot be replicated on a laptop screen.

So when this IMAX experience was announced, anticipation ran high. A new generation had discovered Elvis through Baz Luhrmann’s 2022 dramatic feature. Now they were promised something even closer to the source — the real man, in restored clarity, towering across an enormous screen.

And in many respects, the film delivers on spectacle.

The sound design is thunderous without being distorted. The restoration work is meticulous. Every rhinestone sparkles. Every bead of perspiration becomes a detail of humanity rather than myth. For longtime fans accustomed to worn VHS transfers and grainy bootlegs, the visual upgrade alone feels like a gift.

But spectacle is only part of the story.

II. A Career Spanning Decades in 98 Minutes

Baz structures the film as an emotional journey rather than a chronological documentary. Audio interviews from throughout Elvis’s life serve as narration — including familiar moments like the 1956 press conversations, the Houston Astrodome press conference, and the Madison Square Garden exchange in 1972. These interviews are not new to collectors, but they are woven here into a cohesive emotional arc.

The effect is something closer to a cinematic collage than a traditional concert film. Performances from the 1950s sit beside 1970s rehearsals. A snippet from The Ed Sullivan Show flows into footage reminiscent of Elvis on Tour. The editing is kinetic, sometimes deliberately fragmented.

Baz himself declared that “it’s not a concert film, it’s not a documentary, it’s EPIC.” That description is accurate. This is interpretation, not preservation.

And that distinction matters.

III. The Golden Jacket Revelation

For early-era enthusiasts, one moment alone justifies the ticket price: the restored glimpse of Elvis in Honolulu, 1957, wearing the gold lamé jacket. The brief excerpt of “Don’t Be Cruel” appears in far greater clarity than most have ever seen. For decades, that footage circulated in muted, low-resolution copies. Here, it gleams.

You can see the texture of the jacket fabric. You can observe the physicality of his movement — not just the famous hips, but the athletic footwork, the nervous energy, the youthful fire.

It is fleeting. Too fleeting. Many of us wished for more.

But for those few seconds, history feels newly alive.

IV. The New Footage Debate

Now to the heart of EPIC Elvis Presley in Concert Review: How much new footage?

From one careful viewing and conversations among serious fans, estimates suggest approximately 20 minutes of previously unseen or newly assembled material within the 98-minute runtime. That includes rehearsal fragments and certain performance angles not widely circulated before.

Is that substantial? It depends on your expectations.

If you entered the theater believing you would witness an entirely unreleased full concert, disappointment may follow. If, however, you hoped for curated revelations — enhanced angles, sharper edits, glimpses into rehearsal dynamics — you will find satisfaction.

One controversial decision involves “Burning Love.” The visuals are compelling, yet the original concert audio is replaced with the 2015 orchestral version from the Royal Philharmonic collaboration. Purists may bristle. The rawness of the original mix carried a certain urgency that the orchestral layering softens.

This creative liberty reflects Baz’s overall philosophy: emotion first, archival purity second.

V. The Human Elvis Between the Songs

Where the film truly shines is in its rehearsal footage. Elvis joking with backup singers. Elvis imitating a bandmate’s protest — “I’m not doing it tonight!” — in playful falsetto. These glimpses remind us that behind the jumpsuits and headlines stood a man who thrived on camaraderie.

Another moment captures a fan tugging hard at the fringe of his jumpsuit, prompting Elvis to plead, “It don’t come off! It’s attached to my suit.” The humor, the patience, the quick wit — these are not staged. They are spontaneous.

For seasoned observers, these fragments are gold.

I personally would have welcomed more extended behind-the-scenes exchanges. Those informal minutes often reveal more about the artist than the polished performance itself.

VI. The Colonel Shadow

No Baz Luhrmann project would be complete without commentary on Colonel Tom Parker. A montage underscored by “Devil in Disguise” serves as pointed editorial critique. It is not subtle.

This perspective aligns with the 2022 dramatic film’s interpretation — positioning Parker as both architect and obstacle. Whether one agrees entirely or not, the inclusion reinforces the narrative tension that defined Elvis’s career: genius versus control.

VII. Bono’s Poetic Epilogue

The film concludes with a segment of Bono’s poem “American David.” Only a portion is used — notably the lines that cast Elvis in a more conflicted light. Some viewers question that choice. The poem contains passages of admiration and reverence that might have balanced the tone.

Still, the intent appears to be complexity rather than canonization. Baz seems determined to present Elvis as human — flawed, immense, contradictory.

VIII. The Song Selection Experience

The musical selections span decades: “Never Been to Spain,” “Polk Salad Annie,” “Hound Dog,” “That’s All Right,” “Walk a Mile in My Shoes,” “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling,” and more. Highlights include rehearsal renditions of The Beatles’ “Yesterday” and “Something,” moments that illustrate Elvis’s musical curiosity and adaptability.

However, songs are often spliced from multiple performances. Rarely do we witness an entire number uninterrupted. For fans who crave the immersive continuity of a full concert — Hampton Roads 1972, for example — this approach can feel teasing.

Many leave the theater exhilarated yet slightly hungry.

And perhaps that is intentional.

IX. Restoration as Revelation

Let us not overlook the technical triumph. The color grading is rich without artificial gloss. Close-ups reveal the TCB emblem on sunglasses, the EP ring in brilliant detail. Textures once blurred now appear tactile.

For archival scholars and collectors, this restoration may prove as significant as the new footage itself. Preservation is a form of respect.

X. Final Verdict

So where does that leave us?

If you measure value strictly by the quantity of unseen material, expectations should be moderated. Roughly 20 minutes of new or newly assembled footage within a 98-minute runtime may not satisfy the most insatiable collectors.

But if you measure value by emotional immersion, cinematic power, and the rare opportunity to see Elvis dominate a modern giant screen, the experience earns high praise.

This film is not a museum exhibit. It is a reinterpretation — bold, stylized, occasionally controversial, but undeniably passionate.

In the end, the debate itself reflects something profound: nearly five decades after his passing, we still argue, analyze, and return to the footage. We still lean forward in darkened theaters, hoping to see something we missed before.

That enduring hunger is the real headline.

And perhaps the final question is not simply how much new footage exists — but how many new ways we are still discovering to see him.

If Baz has more material waiting in the vaults, a sequel would not surprise me. The appetite remains strong. The archives remain deep.

Until then, EPIC Elvis Presley in Concert Review: How much new footage? may not answer every longing — but it reminds us why we continue asking.

Because when the lights dim and the first chord rings out, time bends again.

And for two hours, the King lives large.