Elvis on film: 10 unforgettable moments

Although Elvis Presley’s first love was singing, he always harboured dreams of becoming a film star and following in the footsteps of his idol, James Dean. He acted in an incredible 31 movies in just over 13 years, a feat only possible thanks to invariably cheap production values and shoots sometimes lasting less than three weeks. Manager Colonel Tom Parker knew that, even after they accommodated Elvis’s near million dollar fee and 50% of the box-office takings, he and the film studios would still make a decent profit.

In his first few films he played similar roles to James Dean, such as the young rebels in Loving You and Jailhouse Rock (both 1957) before impressing critics with his performance in King Creole (1958). Following a two-year stint in the army, he returned to focus on movies, at the expense of live appearances and his recording career. His more serious roles only took a fraction of the income of his light-hearted musicals, and with Elvis powerless to stand up to Parker, he was stuck making formulaic movies for the rest of the decade. Nonetheless, even in his lesser offerings, memorable highlights lie in abundance. Here are 10 of his finest moments on screen.

If Elvis’s debut movie appearance in the western Love Me Tender (1956) wasn’t exactly what the fans were hoping for, they were appeased adequately with his star turn in Loving You. He appeared in colour for the first time, delivering a great soundtrack and a solid performance. As no Elvis film would be complete without a few songs and a couple of punch-ups, it’s appropriate that one classic scene manages to feature both.

Up-and-coming singer Deke Rivers (Elvis) is eating in a diner when he is approached by the rude boyfriend of a fan who requests he sing for her. He agrees, launching into the barnstorming ‘Mean Woman Blues’. Elvis is mesmerising, displaying his best hip-shaking moves, far exceeding anything previously seen in his TV appearances. He shuffles across the floor, hands clapping and quiff shaking to lines like, “she kiss so hard, she bruise my lips”. With such a provocative song, a fight seems like the natural conclusion and, with the oafish boyfriend a perfect target, that is what we get.

Elvis’s third movie offered him a role that loosely mirrored his own meteoric rise to fame, but one with a violent streak that lands his character, Vince Everett, in prison. On his release his singing talent is discovered by Peggy (Judy Tyler), who falls for him, but his arrogance gets in the way of romance.

The scene where Vince embarrasses Peggy in front of her parents causes a confrontation outside the house and leads to one of a classic Elvis movie moments. “You ain’t gonna hate me, I ain’t gonna let you hate me,” says Elvis as he grabs her and lunges in for a primal kiss. She pushes him away and shoots back at him, “How dare you think such cheap tactics will work with me.” He takes that as an invitation to go in a second time, before delivering the killer line, “That ain’t tactics honey, that’s just the beast in me”. Let’s not forget too that the film featured a stellar Leiber and Stoller soundtrack and probably the most famous of all of Elvis’s musical numbers, the iconic ‘Jailhouse Rock’ dance sequence.

Based on the Harold Robbins novel and featuring a great dixieland-infused Leiber and Stoller soundtrack, King Creole features Elvis as 19-year-old Danny Fisher trying to make ends meet for his family. Working as a busboy in a New Orleans nightclub, he becomes embroiled in Maxi Field’s (Walter Matthau) mob underworld. Elvis has some of his best scenes with Matthau, none more so than their opening exchange when they meet for the first time.

Elvis plays it serious as a half-Kiowa man torn between his allegiance for his white family and his Kiowa roots in this Don Siegel-directed western. When an Indian tribe attacks one of their neighbour’s homesteads, the other townsfolk begin to turn on Pacer’s (Elvis) family, believing him to be an enemy. Later, when his Kiowa mother is shot, he decides to abandon his family and join the Kiowa tribe in order to seek revenge. Elvis wrings every bit of emotion in the key scene where he squares up to his brother as he prepares to leave. From this tussle to the dramatic speech when he reveals for the first time the racism he has endured throughout his life, Elvis carries it off like a pro. Shame the rest of the film has dated so badly.

Set in Acapulco, although Elvis never set a foot anywhere near the place, this is a standard musical with a Mexican flavour, featuring Ursula Andress in her follow-up to Dr. No (1962). The standout scene sees Elvis being pursued by her and another woman, while performing one of his classics, ‘Bossa Nova Baby’ in a swanky nightclub. It’s an energetic performance, featuring probably his best dance moves of the decade.

Although not exactly underrated at its time of release, critical approval of Viva Las Vegas has steadily grown throughout the years and it is now regarded as one of his best. That’s largely down to the chemistry Elvis had with leading lady Ann-Margret, with whom he was in the midst of a passionate affair. Of the two standout musical numbers, Ray Charles’s ‘What I’d Say’ might the better song, but ‘C’mon Everybody’ (not the Eddie Cochran track) is the one where the sparks fly between the two. It’s one of those songs that builds up to a big climax; as Elvis sings, Ann-Margret gets increasingly wild with her dancing. He counters her exuberance by playing it smooth and together they work in perfect harmony.

With the same old formula failing to turn much of a profit by the end of the 60s, it was time to try something new. In this rather uneven film, Elvis plays a manager of a travelling carnival show, and the result is really only notable for Elvis’s lack of screen time and the standout track, ‘Clean Up Your Own Backyard’. The lyrics take a swipe at the hypocrites in the community, such as the morally corrupt preacher delivering his sermon. It might seem ridiculous to a have contemporary song in a film set in the late 1920s but this quibble aside, it’s a great sequence, and the quirky camerawork compliments it wonderfully.

His last acting role saw him finally come of age to play a doctor in a deprived area of New York, working alongside three undercover nuns, led by Mary Tyler Moore. The film tackles some serious topics, including autism, where Elvis treats a young child with his own brand of rage reduction therapy and gets miraculous results. The highlight is an impromptu jam session in his apartment featuring the underrated track ‘Rubberneckin’’. He’s getting down with his groovy ghetto friends, which, while a bit contrived, showed him as a relevant artist again, singing decent material. The rest of the film may have dated, but Elvis seldom looked as happy and at ease on screen.

With Elvis back on stage after an eight-year absence, this documentary followed his 1970 summer season. He was captured at his peak here, but the original film suffered from the inclusion of too many interviews with fans and not enough Elvis. Thankfully in 2001 that was redressed with a completely re-edited version, full of breathtaking highlights. The opening title sequence in particular perfectly captures the excitement and hysteria of an Elvis concert. The opening shots of a flashing Vegas are followed by Elvis on stage singing one of his first recordings, ‘Mystery Train’, in a medley with ‘Tiger Man’. E-L-V-I-S is flashed out on screen, each letter accompanied by a drumbeat and shots of screaming fans, each one building up the hysteria. There’s strobe lighting sequences, a big guitar solo and a karate-kick finish all contained in under two minutes: it’s one of the best intros to a concert movie you’ll ever see.

Elvis’s last film release was another documentary, this time covering his spring 1972 tour. Filmed mainly in split-screen format, it was his only movie to win a major film award, picking up the Golden Globe for best documentary. There’s a poignant scene where Elvis has just finished a concert and is in the back of his limo, slowly winding down from the excitement of performing to thousands of fans. There’s a close-up of him flashing his trademark smile, but as something comes to mind his mood changes. He puts his thumb and forefinger to his lips and stares out of the window, deep in thought as the scene segues into a still of a young Elvis back in 1956 in the same pose. The implication is that Elvis is reminiscing about his younger days; he reveals more in those few seconds than in any interview he gave in his career.