Brian Slade Identity

y advancements into stardom. Towards the end of the film we also see another subtle hint that Brian Slade has resorted to another alter-ego in his pursuit of stardom, this time as the much more conservative Tommy Stone (Alastair Cumming). Brian Slade has formed an interesting habit of re-incarnation by wearing his different identities when he feels it befits him. He does this, however, without truly opening up about the psychological changes he faces as he adopts these new personas, leading to an element of falsity or disingenuousness in the manipulation of the outward identity. In another examination into the politics of the performative and the body we see how Velvet Goldmine plays with the idea of theatricality and self-expression at its

The film itself does make many references to the concept of idea theft or cultural plagiarism, some examples of this include sections of dialogue in the film that hint at Brian Slade’s use of influences to create his persona. One instance early on in the film’s storyline is when Brian Slade is speaking to a Mod female who asks him the question: “So what are ya, mod or a rocker?”, Slade responds: “I'm six of one, half a dozen of the other, really”. Another moment is when Jerry Devine (Eddie Izzard) mentions how: “Every great century that produces art is, so far, an artificial century, and the work that seems the most natural and simple of its time is always the result of the most self-conscious effort”. In fact, Jerry’s entire role within the film is to promote Brian in a less traditional approach, he is responsible for the conception of the decadent and debauched queer identity that followed Brian Slade, an identity that was then internalized for interviews and audiences. In the film, during a scene where Devine dines with both Wild and Slade, Devine sees the literal, superimposed love hearts in Brian Slade’s eyes when he interacts with American superstar Curt Wild, and in turn, the scene cuts to a close up of Devine’s eyes, now similarly superimposed with a symbol - the dollar sign. Looking at Brian Slade’s real-life cultural counterpart, David Bowie, we can further extend the conversation of artifice and commercilisation of the queer identity. When Bowie decide to borrow from subcultures that are identifiable as queer creations (specifically facets of drag culture and camp) and when he allowed himself to be fashioned by openly gay figures such as Andy Warhol and Lindsay Kemp, he effectively became a queer