are always welcome
The show before the show
Elton show puts trust in 'Stick'
Watch Red Piano fans sound off
LAS VEGAS -- As soon as Elton John hits the unmistakable singular opening piano chord of "Bennie and the Jets" and the huge neon letters spelling his name begin to descend from the rafters above the vast Colosseum stage, you know you're in for something spectacular, something way beyond the regular live Elton experience.
And it's not just the red piano that sits at the front of the stage and gives the show its name, its identity and its special allure.
It's the whole Vegas vibe -- the rowdy Caesars Palace casino-goers filing into their seats with buckets of beer, the way-over-the-top set design and powerful movies by legendary photographer/filmmaker David LaChapelle, the crowd rushing the stage and dancing along on "Saturday Night's Alright (For Fighting)."
Here are my immediate thoughts and reactions on seeing the 16-song Red Piano show for the first time, concentrating on what I considered the best moments:
"Bennie and the Jets": It's a great choice for the opener, with late-comers arriving to pack this classy joint just in time to rock out a little bit, and Elton stretching the limits of sanity with a mind-bending piano solo. The set design grabs you immediately: a "boneyard" of old Vegas casino and storefront signs with their last gasps of neon blinking on and off. One says, "Annulments: $15.95," and another reads, "24-hour Botox." Classic Elton and classic Vega$$$. Then there are the gigantic E-L-T-O-N signs, individually coming down from the ceiling and flashing more and more neon on the crowd, all in different styles and colors. It's a perfect way to start and get everyone's appetite kick-started.
"Philadelphia Freedom": The entire back wall of the enormous stage comes to life as the movie screen and takes us right into David LaChapelle's creative soul as he interprets Elton's music and Bernie Taupin's words. Empire State Buildings turn into rockets and launch into a psychedelic explosion of colors and images of the free-love, whirlwind 1960s and 1970s when Elton began to rise to the top of the music world.
"Believe": Elton prefaces this one, as always, by saying that love is the most important thing we have, especially in these difficult times. And since it's a slow song with a meaningful message, all that's really needed is the accompaniment of the "L" from Elton's name lit up in pink and descending above the piano, but there's a retro film of a man dancing that resonates as well. Simple but strong.
"Daniel": If you've ever wondered what this classic song is about, Elton helps explain. Apparently there was a last verse that revealed it all, but that verse was scrapped and the paper Bernie wrote the lyrics on was torn to pieces. But now we have LaChapelle's powerful film to give us a clue, and it works perfectly, superimposing a resting, possibly dying soldier in Vietnam in the foreground of a screen flooding with devastating imagery of war. Ultimately, "Daniel" finds his version of "Spain," however, and it's a peaceful, sun-dappled vision that LaChapelle leaves us with, much like the loving, longing tone of the song.
"Rocket Man": My first reactions to the movie, which takes an early-1970s-era Elton, crazy shades and all, meandering in slo-mo through the labyrinth of a typical backstage rife with drugs, weirdness, celebrities and hangers-on minutes before showtime: 1. "Is that Justin Timberlake?" and 2. "Is that Pee Wee Herman?" The answers: Yes and yes. Timberlake looks and acts the part, as does Paul Reubens, a.k.a. Pee Wee, playing Elton's manager. As the band extends "Rocket Man" into an all-out, spacey jam, we can feel Elton's career taking off into the proverbial stratosphere, and having a night sky full of stars on each side of the smaller middle screen works well to communicate this. Finally, as the song ends, Elton shakes away from the dizziness and finds the stage door and his true calling.
"I Guess That's Why They Call it the Blues": A rolling blues number enhanced by visually arresting black-and-white photographs of ordinary people: lovers, small-town folks of different racial backgrounds, old people, young people and weird people. I figured that this was life through the lens of a famous photographer, but I didn't know which one. During the credits, I found it out it was Mary Ellen Mark. Now I want to see more of her stuff.
"Someone Saved My Life Tonight": Elton said this is one of his favorites, and the passion for it came through in the movie, which was LaChapelle's most surreal of the show. There's a ton of color and strange symbolism here, but it's based on a true story -- a half-assed -- maybe even quarter-assed -- suicide attempt during a stressful period of Elton's life and how he came through it.
"Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me": LaChapelle really shines here, with a one-camera look into a cheap apartment or motel room as two quarreling lovers act out their violent give-and-take, back-and-forth relationship through dance as the TV in the corner broadcasts Elton live at the red piano. It's not for the faint of heart, but it's also not easily forgotten.
"Pinball Wizard": Pure Vegas and pure Elton. The only cover tune in the set shines brightly with non-stop images of the Strip, the casinos and the excess. I couldn't help but hearken back to my own experiences on my college buddy's very own vintage Elton John "Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy" pinball machine, photos of which are featured prominently in this blizzard of LaChapelle-plucked images and colors as Elton balloons rained from the rafters.
"The Bitch is Back": This might be the ultimate Elton-in-Vegas song, and the movie of Pamela Anderson pole-dancing in a bikini is nothing short of perfect. And then there are the inflatables: LaChapelle's enormous on-stage expressions of sex and decadence. Inflatable legs in a garter spring up toward the rear of the stage. A lipstick tube shoots up from the floor. Gigantic boobs -- perhaps based on Pam's artificially enhanced beauts -- pop up in the front right of the stage. No doubt all fans will leave with the musical mammaries of a lifetime.
"Saturday Night's Alright (For Fighting)": The fans in the first few rows are allowed to rush the stage, and they all crowd around the red piano as Sir Elton rocks on. But while they're watching him tickle the ivories, inflatable insanity is erupting all over with phallic fervor. There are huge bananas, apples with protruding, erect cores, an upside-down ice cream cone, a crushed cigarette, the lipstick tube, a rocket, and, yup, those monster knockers again, this time with the nipples shooting confetti. Now THAT'S a show-stopper.
The last tune, Elton's classic thank-you to the crowd in the form of "Your Song," is performed solo as huge red inflatable letters and neon spell out his favorite word, L-O-V-E.
It's a fitting end to an amazing production and a great Elton John show, and I'll let David LaChapelle describe it because I can't say it any better.
"I believe in love. Love is the theme of the show. We used the color red to symbolize love. Very easy, simplistic symbolism that anyone could understand."
Bravo.
