Sex and drugs and rock and roll: rewatching Nicolas Roeg's The Man Who Fell To Earth
It seems to be an iron rule of the modern world that, at any one time, there's always a David Bowie exhibition on somewhere or other. This week, for example, for the modest outlay of £27.50, you could check out the David Bowie: You're Not Alone "multimedia spectacle" in King's Cross in London. Apparently, this will allow you to "discover the creative mind, spirit and soul of one of the world's greatest, most visionary artists". Er, yeah. Though I was in King's Cross yesterday I managed to resist the allure of this offer, instead opting for another Bowie "experience": rewatching (after probably 25-30 years) Nicolas Roeg's film The Man Who Fell To Earth (1976). Sound and vision, man. Bowie's wildly-overrated music generally leaves me unmoved, but I must admit to recently enjoying Heroes (English and German versions) as used in Chris Petit's Radio On . This, I thought the other week as I bought a DVD of The Man Who Fell To Ea...
