December 3, 1968—Call it by its official name—“Elvis”—or the nickname given by posterity—“the ’68 Comeback Special.” But whatever the name, the one-hour special airing on NBC re-established Elvis Presley as a vital rock ‘n’ roll force, seven years after his last concert appearance.
As I write this post, I’m sitting in my local Starbucks, wearing a black leather jacket. No, it’s not the one with the high Napoleonic collar created by the costume designer for the Comeback Special, Bill Belew.
But, whether it’s Elvis or Marlon Brando in The Wild One, or Bruce Springsteen singing “It’s Hard To Be A Saint in the City” (“With my blackjack and jacket and hair slicked sweet”), it’s hard to beat this clothing choice for giving you that sense of rebellious panache. If I ever hope to channel the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll, this is as good a chance as any.
The career of Presley begins and ends with a period of five or so years of consequential change. In the mid-to-late Fifties, he flashed onto the American scene as an almost dangerously electrifying presence; from the “Aloha From Hawaii” special in 1973 to his death in 1977, he declined into a grossly overweight, drug-addled caricature.
For the most part, the Sixties represented something in between: a skein of cheesy movies, made at the urging of Svengali manager “Colonel” Tom Parker, that fattened the singer's wallet but undercut any attempt to establish a career as a credible actor, as Frank Sinatra had done, and even toppled him from his throne as The King. (I mean, come on: Roustabout? Live a Little, Love a Little? Girls! Girl! Girls!???)
In late 1967, the Colonel wanted to make another of these movies with plots that float like helium, Change of Habit (Mary Tyler Moore as a nun? Oh, Ro-b-b-b!!!) Only this time, he sought for a slight bit of variety by packaging it with a cheesy TV Christmas special.
Eventually, the other principals involved—NBC, sponsor Singer Co., even Elvis himself—managed to convince Parker that the singer deserved something that highlighted his versatility and charisma.
And so it turned out to be, showcasing not just the Fifties hits that made him famous (e.g., “Heartbreak Hotel,” “Jailhouse Rock”) but also his passion for gospel music and even new material (“If I Can Dream” was inspired by grief over Robert Kennedy’s assassination a couple of weeks before the show’s filming in June 1968).
The part of the Comeback Special that I liked the best was the jam session with bandmates Scotty Moore and D.J. Fontana. The trio made for a Springsteenesque band of brothers, loose and funny. (Watch Elvis goof on his trademark upper lip!) The small, intimate setting is practically a blueprint for MTV’s great “Unplugged” series a couple of decades later.
Now I know who to thank for that segment: producer Steve Binder, who picked up instantly on the positive vibes emanating from Elvis in the company of the two musicians following long, grueling rehearsals. (Incidentally, this was the second landmark TV musical special that year in which Binder was involved. British songbird Petula Clark’s, back in the spring, caused no end of silly controversy when the camera caught her briefly touching guest Harry Belafonte’s arm. Thank God for changed racial attitudes in the years since!)
When the show finally aired, five months after the original taping, the “Comeback Special” was seen by 42% of the viewing audience, making it the highest-rated TV special of the year.
Watching the special a decade ago, I found it hard to believe that this still-young, ferociously vital entertainer would be dead in less than a decade. Elvis’ physical and mental problems during this period have been all too well documented and don’t require any repetition or elaboration on my part.
As I write this post, I’m sitting in my local Starbucks, wearing a black leather jacket. No, it’s not the one with the high Napoleonic collar created by the costume designer for the Comeback Special, Bill Belew.
But, whether it’s Elvis or Marlon Brando in The Wild One, or Bruce Springsteen singing “It’s Hard To Be A Saint in the City” (“With my blackjack and jacket and hair slicked sweet”), it’s hard to beat this clothing choice for giving you that sense of rebellious panache. If I ever hope to channel the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll, this is as good a chance as any.
The career of Presley begins and ends with a period of five or so years of consequential change. In the mid-to-late Fifties, he flashed onto the American scene as an almost dangerously electrifying presence; from the “Aloha From Hawaii” special in 1973 to his death in 1977, he declined into a grossly overweight, drug-addled caricature.
For the most part, the Sixties represented something in between: a skein of cheesy movies, made at the urging of Svengali manager “Colonel” Tom Parker, that fattened the singer's wallet but undercut any attempt to establish a career as a credible actor, as Frank Sinatra had done, and even toppled him from his throne as The King. (I mean, come on: Roustabout? Live a Little, Love a Little? Girls! Girl! Girls!???)
In late 1967, the Colonel wanted to make another of these movies with plots that float like helium, Change of Habit (Mary Tyler Moore as a nun? Oh, Ro-b-b-b!!!) Only this time, he sought for a slight bit of variety by packaging it with a cheesy TV Christmas special.
Eventually, the other principals involved—NBC, sponsor Singer Co., even Elvis himself—managed to convince Parker that the singer deserved something that highlighted his versatility and charisma.
And so it turned out to be, showcasing not just the Fifties hits that made him famous (e.g., “Heartbreak Hotel,” “Jailhouse Rock”) but also his passion for gospel music and even new material (“If I Can Dream” was inspired by grief over Robert Kennedy’s assassination a couple of weeks before the show’s filming in June 1968).
The part of the Comeback Special that I liked the best was the jam session with bandmates Scotty Moore and D.J. Fontana. The trio made for a Springsteenesque band of brothers, loose and funny. (Watch Elvis goof on his trademark upper lip!) The small, intimate setting is practically a blueprint for MTV’s great “Unplugged” series a couple of decades later.
Now I know who to thank for that segment: producer Steve Binder, who picked up instantly on the positive vibes emanating from Elvis in the company of the two musicians following long, grueling rehearsals. (Incidentally, this was the second landmark TV musical special that year in which Binder was involved. British songbird Petula Clark’s, back in the spring, caused no end of silly controversy when the camera caught her briefly touching guest Harry Belafonte’s arm. Thank God for changed racial attitudes in the years since!)
When the show finally aired, five months after the original taping, the “Comeback Special” was seen by 42% of the viewing audience, making it the highest-rated TV special of the year.
Watching the special a decade ago, I found it hard to believe that this still-young, ferociously vital entertainer would be dead in less than a decade. Elvis’ physical and mental problems during this period have been all too well documented and don’t require any repetition or elaboration on my part.
But at least in this final decade, because he returned to the medium that made him a star in the first place, he had the opportunity to remind audiences how he had remade the American musical landscape as a young man.
Two last points:
1) In researching this piece, I came across this post by Chris Parton on CMT’s blog, alerting me to something Id’ never known existed: the “duet” of Martina McBride with the King. Parker is right: it is uncanny how the space surrounding Elvis in the original special was vacant, as if awaiting a singer of tangible gifts such as McBride to fill it. Somewhere, Col. Parker must be smiling: “Blue Christmas” was Elvis’ sop to his original idea of a TV Christmas special.
2) My Irish heritage, I think, gives me a special affinity for Elvis. You doubt me? Then check out that seminal rock ‘n’ roll movie, The Commitments. What’s in the home of Dublin band manager Jimmy Rabbitte? Framed portraits of Pope John Paul II and Elvis. And of the two, guess whose portrait hangs higher on the wall?
Two last points:
1) In researching this piece, I came across this post by Chris Parton on CMT’s blog, alerting me to something Id’ never known existed: the “duet” of Martina McBride with the King. Parker is right: it is uncanny how the space surrounding Elvis in the original special was vacant, as if awaiting a singer of tangible gifts such as McBride to fill it. Somewhere, Col. Parker must be smiling: “Blue Christmas” was Elvis’ sop to his original idea of a TV Christmas special.
2) My Irish heritage, I think, gives me a special affinity for Elvis. You doubt me? Then check out that seminal rock ‘n’ roll movie, The Commitments. What’s in the home of Dublin band manager Jimmy Rabbitte? Framed portraits of Pope John Paul II and Elvis. And of the two, guess whose portrait hangs higher on the wall?
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