The Toronto International Film Festival has hosted countless glamorous premieres, standing ovations, and red-carpet moments. But this year, something different happened — something louder, wilder, and far more electric than the usual cinematic celebration. Baz Luhrmann didn’t just arrive with a film. He arrived with a full-scale rock ’n’ roll revival.
Welcome to EPiC — not merely a project, not simply a premiere, but an all-out sensory experience that transformed TIFF into a pulsing tribute to the enduring force of Elvis Presley.
Not Just a Screening — A Spectacle
Most festival premieres end when the credits roll. Luhrmann’s began there.
Following a special presentation tied to his latest Elvis-inspired creative venture, audiences were ushered into a live concert event that blurred the lines between film, music, and cultural time travel. The director, known for his maximalist flair in Moulin Rouge! and The Great Gatsby, once again proved he doesn’t believe in doing anything halfway.
The venue pulsed with towering LED walls, rapid-fire edits of remastered archival Elvis footage, and immersive lighting that flickered like a Southern juke joint colliding with a Vegas stage. From the first beat, it was clear: this wasn’t nostalgia. This was resurrection.
Elvis as a Living, Breathing Force
Luhrmann has always framed Elvis Presley not just as a star, but as a cultural detonation — a seismic shift in sound, style, and attitude. EPiC leans hard into that vision.
Instead of presenting Elvis as a polished, museum-piece legend, the concert reintroduced him as what he truly was: a disruptor. A boundary-breaker. A young man who fused Black rhythm and blues, gospel fire, country storytelling, and pop swagger into a sound that reshaped global music.
Throughout the night, giant screens flashed rare performance clips — hips shaking, lips curled, eyes blazing with that unmistakable mix of innocence and danger. But rather than feeling archival, the footage felt immediate, almost confrontational, as if Elvis were daring this generation to match his energy.
A Genre-Crossing Lineup
True to Luhrmann’s bold creative instincts, the performers chosen for EPiC weren’t safe tribute acts. They were boundary-pushers in their own right.
Rock vocalists tore through reimagined versions of “Jailhouse Rock” with gritty distortion. A gospel choir lifted “How Great Thou Art” into a spiritual crescendo that felt closer to revival than performance. Hip-hop artists sampled Elvis rhythms and blended them with modern beats, proving how deeply his musical DNA runs through today’s soundscape.
The message was unmistakable: Elvis isn’t just history. He’s infrastructure.
Each reinterpretation carried Luhrmann’s signature cinematic rhythm — fast, emotional, and visually explosive. Songs didn’t simply start and stop; they collided, overlapped, and evolved, mirroring the director’s trademark editing style. It felt less like a concert setlist and more like a living mixtape built across generations.
The Crowd Reaction: Shock, Joy, and Movement
Festival crowds are known for polite applause. EPiC demolished that tradition.
Within minutes, people were on their feet. Some danced. Some shouted. Some simply stared at the spectacle with wide-eyed disbelief. Industry insiders who had spent the day in quiet screenings suddenly found themselves clapping along to rockabilly rhythms under strobe lights.
Attendees later described the experience as “being dropped inside Elvis’s heartbeat.” Others compared it to a Broadway show colliding with a stadium concert and an art installation all at once. Whatever the metaphor, one thing was certain: no one walked out unaffected.
Reinventing the Film Premiere
Luhrmann has always rejected creative boundaries, and EPiC may signal a new direction for how major film-related projects are launched. Instead of separating cinema and music, he fused them into a single cultural event.
In doing so, he also reframed the purpose of a premiere. This wasn’t about marketing. It was about recontextualization — reminding audiences why Elvis mattered, and why his influence still pulses beneath today’s charts.
By placing contemporary artists in direct conversation with Presley’s legacy, Luhrmann avoided the trap of simple tribute. EPiC became a bridge — one that connected a 1950s Southern rebel to a 2020s global audience raised on genre mashups and digital remixes.
Elvis the Original Disruptor
Perhaps the most powerful undercurrent of the night was Luhrmann’s insistence on Elvis as a cultural revolutionary rather than a polished icon.
Before the jumpsuits, before Las Vegas, there was a teenager absorbing the sounds of Black churches and blues clubs, then bringing that fire into mainstream America. EPiC leaned into that raw origin story — the dangerous, thrilling collision of cultures that birthed rock ’n’ roll.
By highlighting those roots, the concert subtly reframed Elvis not as a relic of old Hollywood, but as a symbol of creative fusion — something today’s music world thrives on.
A Love Letter, Turned Up to 11
For Luhrmann, EPiC clearly represents more than another project. It feels like a continuation of a personal artistic mission: keeping Elvis emotionally present, not historically distant.
His approach doesn’t aim for quiet reverence. It goes for emotional overload — flashing lights, swelling choirs, pounding drums, and images that hit like memories you didn’t know you had.
And judging by the TIFF response, that gamble paid off. Audiences didn’t leave discussing box office potential or awards buzz. They left humming melodies, replaying moments, and — most importantly — talking about Elvis as if he had just stepped offstage.
The King, Still in the Building
In an era when musical legends are often flattened into playlists and algorithms, EPiC made a bold counterstatement: Elvis Presley is not background music. He is an event.
Baz Luhrmann’s TIFF concert proved that the King of Rock ’n’ Roll doesn’t belong behind glass. His music still sweats, shouts, and demands to be felt at full volume.
If EPiC is a preview of what Luhrmann’s next Elvis-centered vision holds, one thing is certain — it won’t be subtle. It will be loud, emotional, excessive, and utterly alive.
