There’s no better reason to visit a movie theater this month—or possibly this year—than EPiC: Elvis Presley in Concert, a rousing non-fiction portrait of the King in all his 1970s glory. And while the film’s exhilarating energy is due, first and foremost, to its legendary rock ‘n’ roll subject, it’s also the byproduct of its acclaimed director, Baz Luhrmann, who turns his latest into a breathtaking feat of cinematic virtuosity.
Currently in IMAX release (a format ideally suited for its larger-than-life thrills) and debuting across the country on Feb. 27, EPiC: Elvis Presley in Concert is a natural follow-up to the Australian auteur’s 2022 feature Elvis, itself an extravagant biopic that tapped into Presley’s megaton-grade magnetism.
Still, there’s nothing like the real deal, and Luhrmann makes clear why the singer-songwriter remains one of the 20th century’s preeminent cultural icons, using newly unearthed outtakes from 1970’s Elvis: That’s the Way It Is and 1972’s Elvis on Tour—along with a never-heard-before interview about his life and career—to celebrate Presley’s peerless artistry and charisma.
Constructed with Luhrmann’s trademark razzle-dazzle, EPiC: Elvis Presley in Concert gets up-close-and-personal with the King, be it in rehearsal studios or on stage during his Vegas residency, employing baroque, kaleidoscopic style—all giant typeface and swirling, glittering graphics—to match his flamboyant spirit. Such boldness is amplified by an editorial structure of whiplash-inducing dexterity, and it’s underscored by an intimate and revealing Presley voiceover that speaks to his lifelong motivations, ambitions, and impulses.
Less a straightforward concert film or biodoc than a galvanizing tribute to Presley’s one-of-a-kind charm, talent, and force of personality, EPiC: Elvis Presley in Concert is a frontrunner for the cinematic experience of 2026, and an ideal vehicle for its maker’s own inimitable flair.
On the eve of its nationwide rollout, we spoke with Luhrmann about visiting the Warner Bros. salt mines to search for lost Elvis treasures, the restoration process necessary to bring this archival footage to modern life, and the most surprising thing he discovered through his research.
Perhaps the most thrilling thing about EPiC: Elvis Presley in Concert is how big Elvis feels—his swagger, his dynamism, his talent, and his effect on people. Was the number one goal of this project to capture that enormity?
I know what you mean about the bigness, and the bigness is not just the performances. It’s also the heart. And I think the other thing is, the humanity. Probably more than anything, by letting him tell his story, you understand the man more than the image. I think that gives dimension. I think the bigness you’re talking about is also how goofy and funny he is.
Absolutely. He comes across as a full-bodied person who’s not just amazing on stage, but charming, witty, and personable. Was that also key—getting the rehearsal footage where you seem him in that way?
You start watching these hours of footage, and you go, look how he just hangs out. You can see that he went out of his way to be goofy. He loved humor, but it was also about disarming people who felt overwhelmed by his good looks and his talent. He goofed around, I think, just to stop people from feeling intimidated.
What was the biggest unexpected “discovery” in the footage?
Apart from the goofiness, I think it was the singular understanding that, as a musician, he didn’t just sing everything—he created it with everyone. He got them all on board, but then no one ever knew what he was going to do. Even he didn’t know. He would just feel it. And for that reason, they always had to be watching him. Everybody was just watching, thinking, what’s he going to do next? That kept them alive, and I think that is why he’s such a vibration on stage. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do. They have the material rehearsed, but they’re almost doing it in the moment.
We try to show that in “Polk Salad Annie,” how in rehearsal, he’s kind of feeling stuff. They never know when they’re going to end. He uses his body to conduct. With his body, he becomes the music, and then he’s using his body to conduct a band and the audience. That does make him a unique performer. He’s not someone who rehearses in a mirror. There’s nothing wrong with that; there are great performers who do that, rehearsing in a mirror over and over again, and getting it perfect. But he didn’t do that. I think it’s almost like we’re in the house of music, and he’s the acolyte for everyone.
One of the film’s most striking aspects is Elvis’ desire to perform others’ songs. What was the thought process regarding how to balance covers vs. originals? It felt like that dynamic spoke to his generosity as an artist.
Yes, I agree with that. I think it shows that he didn’t have a prejudiced bone in his body—and not just in terms of race. He does Bob Dylan and the Beatles. We hear all these myths about Elvis, but you can see the way he’s singing the music, he’s just going, this is great music, and I’m going to do that. What a great song.
You don’t often hear things like when Bob Dylan says, one of the great moments of my life is when Elvis did one of my songs. Bob Dylan was a giant Elvis fan. Would you think that? Probably not. I think that’s it. In the beginning, Elvis says, I like all kinds of music—I like Mexican, and this and that. It’s the stuff that grows up around you.
When he was faltering, just because he was trapped, he says in the film, I’m going to go to England, I’m going to go to Japan, but that tour never happened. We are giving him the world tour he never had. Whatever you want to say, you can’t deny that, as he says and does in the music, he just doesn’t have any prejudice. He just thinks, is this great music or not? And he makes it his own. I mean, what about when he takes Simon and Garfunkel’s folk song “Bridge Over Troubled Water” and turns it into this gospel power ballad!
What was the condition of the newly discovered material? Was the restoration process an arduous one?
Arduous, arduous, arduous. When we brought it back into the Warner Bros. space, it smelled so heavily of vinegar, and that is the smell of negative film degenerating, crumbling. We had to convince them we were going to use it in a movie. One is to actually scan it, which costs a lot of money. And then I was so lucky that dear, dear Peter Jackson and his brilliant team got in there and did their restoration. They were able to bring it back to the highest possible quality so that we’re literally projecting it at 70mm.
If you see it in IMAX, or whatever the biggest screen you can get to, cool—get out there and see it on a big screen, because we’ve made it as much like being in a concert with Elvis as possible. But the work was two years, just to find it. We had the negative, but not the sound. Then we found magtape, which is the original sound, but then orchestras weren’t perfect, and we’d be doing things like meeting gangsters in car parks—I didn’t do it—negotiating for some black-market audio that we didn’t have. We had some wonderful collectors who were very private and would come in and rescue us, because the thing about private collectors is they don’t want to share it or sell it. They just want to collect it. They own it.
The film isn’t a straightforward concert doc. How did you and [editor] Jonathan Redmond conceive of the structure and style of the film, so that you struck a balance between biographical, performance, and behind-the-scenes material?
It was when we found the 40-minute audio tape that I was just speaking about, in which he talks about his life in this unguarded way. With that telling of his story, we said, what songs does he do on stage that actually illuminate that? So when he’s doing “Polk Salad Annie” and he’s talking about how women said, down in Louisiana, they were eating basically grass, he’s relating it to himself. We just had to stay on point with him telling his story through music and words.
Did you imagine, when you set out on Elvis, that you’d do a non-fiction concert film follow-up? And are you ready to leave the King behind, at least for now—or are more Elvis projects in the works?
Well, it started as an accident, and then I had the choice—I could have put this stuff back in the salt mines and just let it be destroyed. But Jonathan and I said, no, we have to do something. I didn’t think it would take two years just to find the sound, but now I’m here. I think I’ve accepted and am at peace with it, and I can’t go on and just do another five-hour cut of it or something. But I will find a younger team. I recognize that Elvis will probably never leave my building, in one way or another.
