NEW YORK — Billie Eilish is levitating. Or so it seems.
When the pop star first emerges on screen in the mouthful Billie Eilish — Hit Me Hard and Soft: The Tour (Live in 3D), she is suspended above a cube built of LED screens, surrounded by a sold-out crowd of over 23,000 fans in the centre of the UK’s largest arena — Manchester’s Co-op Live.
She launches into the midtempo Chihiro, a house experiment from her latest album, and the 3D magic begins.
In the contemporary pop music landscape, Eilish is a rulebreaker — and so is this work.
The new concert film, co-directed by Eilish and three-time Academy Award winner James Cameron, was his idea.
Cameron emailed Eilish’s mother, Maggie Baird — a friend of his wife via their shared interest in plant-based diets and environmentalism — and suggested they shoot Eilish’s Hit Me Hard and Soft tour in 3D.
It is new territory for Cameron, in some ways, and old hat in others.
His production company has done a number of concert films, including one with Eilish’s musical hero Justin Bieber, but Cameron hasn’t sat in the director’s chair of a project like this one.
A 3D concert film also brings up a number of technical challenges — a passion of Cameron’s, as anyone who has seen the blockbuster Avatar franchise could attest to — and as a fellow outlier of industry, the pairing succeeds.
Eilish, too, is no stranger to film: She’s the subject of the 2021 documentary, Billie Eilish: The World’s a Little Blurry, and a concert film released that same year, Happier Than Ever: A Love Letter to Los Angeles.
This, however, is her first time co-directing a feature.
And where The World’s a Little Blurry served as a composite of her come-up and various successes, Hit Me Hard and Soft is dedicated to the concert film format while pushing its boundaries.
While no movie can serve as the perfect replica of a transformative live music experience, Billie Eilish — Hit Me Hard and Soft: The Tour (Live in 3D) works an immersive magic.
Every seat is the best seat in the house in these shots; common issues with concert films find solutions. Audience members are celebrated like additional characters.
When the camera is on them, their voices are heard loud — sniffling, screams, cheers, off-key sing-alongs get their shine, sometimes above Eilish in the mix, mimicking the experience of swaying in the crowd.
In 3D, her minimalist set is given a visceral tangibility.
Fans see Eilish jump through trap doors, hook into safety harnesses, chug water, dance off screen, become teary eyed and embrace her band mates.
At nearly two-hours of runtime, it passes like zephyr, a thrill ride so fun it feels too short.
There is also new insight for the Eilish fan: Cameras escort the pop star backstage and underneath it.
In the beginning of the film, viewers experience the tour’s opening scene — and then they get to see it again, from Eilish’s perspective.
In other moments, Cameron is on screen with Eilish as she co-directs, giving the film the intimacy of a behind-the-scenes DVD extra detailing how the movie was made… in the middle of it.
It’s a compelling watch and demonstrates a deep understanding of a dedicated pop music audience, where accessibility is the most valuable cultural currency.
“You’re like a tuning fork,” Cameron says to Eilish in one scene. “And they’re hitting the same beats.”
There is little narrativising, what often ruins a fine film, turning it into a vanity project.
Eilish is shown backstage strengthening her ankle after suffering a sprain, mostly to highlight the physicality of her performance.
In another, she plays with puppies, a brief reminder of her animal rights activism.
They’re welcomed breaks, but not totally memorable. The strength of the film is Eilish on stage — not in its interview interludes.
For years, Eilish has chosen to perform solo on stage.
In this movie, fans will learn it is because she has long wanted to mimic a hip-hop performance, where a rapper can command a stage with just a microphone, the strength of their songs and charisma.
“I just wanted the freedom of being a guy running around,” she tells Cameron.
The performance that follows is Bury a Friend from her first record, a song with production that pulls inspiration from hip-hop — a masterful exhibition of influence creating innovation.
The only place where the structure falters is in a candid conversation about desirability and femininity followed by the Oscar-winning Barbie theme What Was I Made For?
Other songs in Eilish’s discography would’ve driven the point home with more subtlety and acuity.
But the moment comes and goes.
What is left are big songs and bigger emotions.
When a fan in the front row is heard wailing, “Billie! Billie! Billie,” with tears in her eyes and a handmade sign asking for a hug, the viewer has no choice but to hope she gets that embrace, that Eilish makes individual eye contact with her, that a connection can be realised in some brief, healing moment.
“I understand that need and that desperation,” Eilish says in one scene, describing herself as a superfan like the ones before her. “I want to be the artist I would want to be a fan of.”
Concert films are engineered for loyal listeners: To relive the night, or experience it for the first time, or to revel in the joy of being a face in the crowd. That goes for Eilish as well.
“To get to see these close up, beautiful, 3D shots of these fans who I would never have gotten to see have that emotional reaction,” from the stage in the middle of her performance, Eilish told The Associated Press last month, “I feel really grateful for that gift.”
Spoken like a true fan.
[[nid:735370]]
Read the full article here
