SHOW BIZ

EPiC is a hip-shaking, lip-curling, fist-pumping, wise-cracking, sequin-spangled, sweat-soaked, all singing and dancing grand spectacle. 

It stands for Elvis Presley in Concert — a film that brings The King back into the building. 

Directed with loving care and boundless pizazz by flamboyant Australian Baz Luhrmann, it is a fitting companion to his 2022 biopic Elvis, starring Austin Butler. 

Using an incredible patchwork of unseen footage and unheard interviews, painstakingly restored by high-end technicians, he is presenting Elvis singing and telling his story “like never before”. 

You hear the music icon talking about his adoring fans, saying: “Those people want to see a show. They want to see some action.” 

The “action” centres on two years, 1970 and 1972, and features the singer’s residencies in Las Vegas, tour engagements and upbeat rehearsals, all interspersed with telling insights from the man himself. 

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Aside from fleeting visits to Canada, Elvis never did shows outside the US and yet, as he admits in the movie, he yearned to spread his wings and bring THAT voice to the world. 

Movingly, he performs Never Been To Spain which includes the line: “Well, I never been to England but I kinda like The Beatles.” 

‘Seen all the stuff’ 

Now, with EPiC, he’s getting the world tour he never had. 

To celebrate its cinema release next Friday, along with a soundtrack album, I’m speaking to one of the most qualified experts on “the kid from Tupelo” who changed popular culture for ever. 

Angie Marchese is Vice President of Archives and Exhibits at Graceland, the Memphis mansion bought by Elvis in 1957 for $102,500. 

It’s where he lived with wife Priscilla, where the couple welcomed their only child, Lisa Marie, and where he died on August 16, 1977. 

Since 1982, Graceland has been a museum with exhibits including Elvis’s pink Cadillac, his private jets, his gold records, his jewellery, his ornate furniture, his deep-pile carpets and, of course, his legendary jumpsuits. 

During her years living and breathing the place, vivacious curator Marchese has seen “a whole lot of Elvis footage”. 

“I’ve scrolled YouTube and seen all the stuff,” she tells me. 

But nothing quite prepared her for EPiC, which she first saw last year when it premiered at Toronto International Film Festival.  

“I was captivated for 96 minutes,” she says. “I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen. 

“You get to see a real person through this movie. That’s the guy I know from going through his archives.” 

Marchese highlights the frequent snatches of interviews with Elvis, which she describes as a “window into his mind”. 

“You’re hearing him telling his story for the first time, in his own words,” she affirms. 

“It involved lots of manpower — finding all these interview clips, dissecting them and making a story out of them. That brought it to a personal level. If Elvis had ever done an autobiography, this is what it would be.” 

Hollywood’s image of me was wrong. I knew it and I couldn’t do anything about it

Elvis Presley

Marchese also saw EPiC at Graceland on January 8, on what would have been the music legend’s 91st birthday. 

“That was very special,” she says. “It was the first US screening of the movie — and you would have thought that you were at a live concert.  

“Everybody in the theatre was dancing and singing and applauding. With the clarity of the footage, it felt as if you could reach out and touch him and he’s there. 

“The look in his eyes, the little smirks — I’ve never seen Elvis performing this clearly before.” 

EPiC begins with a rapid-fire retelling of the Elvis story and how he led the rock ’n’ roll revolution in the Fifties, even if a few stuffed shirts thought his high- octane antics “triggered juvenile delinquency”. 

You see him being drafted into the US Army and posted to West Germany, serving with a tank battalion. There are glimpses of his frustrating movie career which saw him given increasingly lightweight roles, culminating in him talking to an actor dressed as a dog in Live A Little, Love A Little. 

“Hollywood’s image of me was wrong,” he decides. “I knew it and I couldn’t do anything about it.” 

EPiC continues with the dying throes of Elvis’s movie career coinciding with the momentous 1968 Comeback Special, his televised return to the live arena, looking as fit as a fiddle. 

“The black leather suit has a 28in waist,” says Marchese, again proving what a mine of fascinating information she has at her fingertips. 

“That size rolls into the next couple of years of touring. Even the Aztec Sun jumpsuit which Elvis wore in ’77 [for his last ever concert, on June 26, in Indianapolis] is not as large as people might envision it to be.” 

The focal point of EPiC is his Las Vegas residencies which began at the International Hotel in 1969 and continued until the end of 1976. 

You hear Elvis confessing to stage fright before emerging on to the stage in 1970 in his off-white “fringe” jumpsuit (Marchese’s favourite) and launching into the song that started it all, That’s All Right, his first hit from 1956. 

Marchese believes his anxieties stemmed from a burning desire to make shows as special as he could for his fans. 

“He was the kid who lived the American dream, coming from poverty in Tupelo to being on top of the world and able to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. 

“But he never forgot where he came from.” 

Despite everything, Elvis was never exactly shy and retiring, as Marchese explains. 

“He sure knew how to dress. If a kid was going to high school in the Fifties with sideburns, greased hair, his collar pulled up and wearing pink, then he was confident in who he was as a person — even if he had come from humble beginnings.” 

There’s some astonishing footage of Elvis climbing off stage and wading into the crowd, hugging and kissing women — some on the lips. 

Marchese continues: “One of the questions I get asked the most is, ‘Why is Elvis still so popular?’  

‘He sang just to you’ 

“The answer is that he had a personal connection with his fans. If you were in the crowd and there were 18,000 other people in the audience with you, you felt like he was just singing just to you. He had this energy about him, and he was just so personable. 

“Even if you never had a chance to get a scarf or a kiss or even get close to him, you felt like he was there for you. That really comes across in this movie.”  

Another key aspect of Elvis, which shines through, is his mischievous sense of humour. 

There’s a moment where he grabs a drink after complaining of feeling “dry — like Bob Dylan, only in my mouth”. 

Marchese calls him “Graceland’s worst practical joker” and tells her favourite prank story. “Every year, he gave the Memphis Mafia [the nickname given to Elvis’s inner circle] Christmas bonuses,” she says. 

“One year, he overheard the guys as they sat around imagining what the bonus might be. So, Elvis goes to McDonald’s down the street from Graceland and buys them all 50-cent gift certificates. 

“He puts them in envelopes with their names on. Christmas Eve comes around, Elvis brings the envelopes out and hands them out.

“The guys open them up and stare at Elvis — and he just falls about laughing but, mind you, back then 50 cents would have got you an entire meal.”

Next, I ask Marchese if there’s a song in the EPiC movie which particularly grabs her attention. 

He never lost this desire to please his fans, to be with them and to perform for them

Angie Marchese, Vice President of Archives and Exhibits at Graceland

“Like everyone, I love the popular ones such as Suspicious Minds, but when he sings gospel, that’s huge for me. It takes everything to another level. So my answer is, How Great Thou Art. I don’t think anyone could have done it better.” 

Marchese describes how Elvis became infatuated with gospel at a young age. “He used to go to these all-night gospel sings at the North Hall in downtown Memphis when he was a kid. 

“He didn’t have money to buy a ticket so he would go round to the back door and listen. Sometimes, JD Sumner [who sang at Elvis’s funeral] would sneak him in.” 

Of his towering rendition of How Great Thou Art, Marchese says: “Typical gospel hymn, but Elvis put it in the middle of a rock concert. The crowd is silent, listening to every word, but it doesn’t slow down the vibe, it raises it even more.” 

Just before How Great Thou Art, you see cute home movies of Elvis with Lisa Marie when she was a baby and toddler. 

“It made me cry,” says Marchese. “I wonder if Baz [Luhrmann] did that on purpose because How Great Thou Art was her favourite Elvis song.” 

It’s so sad to think that, like her dad, she died young and is buried beside him in Graceland’s Meditation Garden. 

“Lisa was the apple of Elvis’s eye, and loved her dad more than life itself,” says Marchese. 

“She was loyal, authentically who she was and also a beautiful, doting mother to her kids [Riley, twin girls Harper and Finley, and the late Ben].” 

As the owner of Graceland, Lisa Marie also got to know Marchese well. “She really was a special friend. She had a lot of Elvis’s traits — she had no filter so whatever she was thinking was what she was trying to do.” 

Before we go our separate ways, Marchese returns to the subject of EPiC, which showcases some of Elvis’s best-loved songs with breathless intensity — Always On My Mind, Can’t Help Falling In Love, In The Ghetto and so on.  

Elvis announces that it’s time to “get dirty” before launching into a relentless Polk Salad Annie — a truly remarkable feat of film editing, employing footage from two concerts and a rehearsal, all spliced together to thrilling effect. 

“That was masterful editing [by Jonathan Redmond] right there,” enthuses Marchese. 

There are wonderful intimate moments where Elvis rehearses Beatles songs Yesterday and Something.  

Cue one final, illuminating anecdote from the curator with an encyclopaedic knowledge.  

“I actually took Paul McCartney through Graceland. He was most fascinated by the fact that Elvis had a remote control for his TV in 1965 — years before most people had them.

“Oh, and we have the first microwave ever sold in Memphis, inside Graceland’s kitchen.” 

Finally, I ask Marchese if Elvis felt “caught in a trap” by Vegas, resulting in him not touring the world. 

“He loved his Vegas audience. He loved being on tour. But there was a moment in time when he couldn’t get off the hamster wheel. He had so many people relying on him.  

“Yet he never lost this desire to please his fans, to be with them and to perform for them.” 

If you get the chance to see EPiC, you’ll realise Elvis Aaron Presley is STILL The King. 

EPiC – ELVIS PRESLEY IN CONCERT  

★★★★★

Andy Gilpin returns to his hometown and finds it has become the somewhat unlikely hottest thing in travel

It’s 1.24pm on Friday afternoon and while most pubs around the UK at this time would be empty, The Turf is full. There are regulars, a retirement party and a vociferous pool game.

There’s also Wayne Cram, from Boston (that’s Massachusetts, not Lincolnshire), supping pints with Max from Wrexham, who’s just come in for a swift half after a hospital appointment. These two would normally never meet, especially here, but they’ve been brought together by one thing – Wrexham FC.

Almost attached to the historic Racecourse Ground, The Turf is one of the main stars of the Welcome to Wrexham show that’s got people flocking to this unassuming and in some ways run-down North Wales city. It follows the fortunes of a football club bought by Ryan ‘Deadpool’ Reynolds and Rob ‘It’s Always Sunny’ McElhenney.

And people have fallen in love with the show. New research says Wrexham is the UK’s newest holiday hotspot for 2026 – with bookings surging an astonishing 184% compared to 2025.

But why and what leads the likes of Wayne to travel 3,200 miles to a place that used to be famous for a giant slag heap and a massive industrial estate?

Do you have a travel story to share? Email webtravel@reachplc.com

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“I’m like the Richard Dreyfuss character in Close Encounters of the Third Kind” explains Wayne. “I was looking for something. I was probably making models of the Racecourse Ground out of mashed potato. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but when I came here, I found it.”

Wayne has been over to see Wrexham five times – six if you count the 10 hours he drove to watch them play in Philadelphia. The first time he ‘kept under the radar’ and didn’t interact much.

Now, you can’t shut him up about Phil Parkinson’s 3-5-2, the recent transfer window and if the club have enough for four promotions in a row.

“I don’t know what the show’s demographic was, but I am it,” he adds. “I keep getting pulled here.”

The Turf’s landlord Wayne Jones is also about grafting, pulling pints, carrying boxes and chatting to regulars. While he’s a star of the show, he doesn’t particularly like the limelight, but will happily pose for selfies for people from all over the world. It’s what has got his pub so busy.

One of the people playing pool is Bryan Still. A former Wrexham Supporters Trust board member, he now runs tours of Wrexham in his minibus, taking eager foreigners to the places that feature and the people who star in them.

Bryan is one of those people who has a story or quip about everything and everyone. We jump into his taxi as he drives into town, pointing out interesting landmarks on the way. We go to the Wrexham Lager Brewery, now 95% owned by Ryan, Rob and their investing partners, the Allyn family.

We visit the historic St Giles Church, one of the seven wonders of Wales, where the founder of Yale University, Elihu Yale, is buried, as well as various murals around the city dedicated to heroes of the club.

We also pay a visit to Rob Clarke, owner of Mad4Movies in the Butchers Market and another regular in the show. Wayne chats to him, before an Aussie fella can’t wait and jumps in, much to the Bostonian’s amusement.

It’s good-natured fun, but it’s not all good news in Wrexham County Borough. While the Turf is full, the high street is empty. Rob’s shop is well visited, but other stalls in the market are struggling for footfall. Shop owners don’t believe the council is doing enough to get people spending in the city – whatever the benefits of the documentary are.

Back at the Turf, Wayne Jones is still busy, but he stops to talk about Flo’s ‘world famous’ baps on the counter at £2 a pop.

“They’re world famous because Rob McElhenney had one once,” says Wayne, before giving us some intel on Millwall fans’ whereabouts and carrying on the graft.

Scoot, lead singer of the Declan Swans who’s song ‘It’s Always Sunny in Wrexham’ is a soundtrack to the show (think this ‘less than a mile from the centre of town’) is talking to a German fella. Bassist from the band Mark Jones is milling around after finishing his shift. A Yorkshire-based reporter charged with covering the club has just walked in and Boston Wayne is holding court with all of them.

Everyone here seems to have a link to either the club, the documentary or both. Even me. I do the voice-over for the show.

My hometown is in the spotlight of the world, and I, Wayne(s), Bryan, Scott, and so many others want to show it off. And you may get embroiled in a chat about the merits of 3-5-2 and a world-famous bap in the bargain.

You get the slap heap for free.

Book it

For inspiration and where to stay and what to do in and around Wrexham, visit the Welsh tourist board.

We’ve seen animated animals belt out tunes in the “Sing” movies. We’ve learned about “The Secret Life of Pets” (twice). And we’ve visited them in “Zootopia” (also on two occasions). Now we get to see them play basketball. “Goat,” produced by Golden State Warriors prodigy Stephen Curry, is yet another underdog story about following your dreams wrapped in a by-the-numbers sports movie. It feels utterly unoriginal on multiple fronts.

Taking the popular acronym GOAT (Greatest of All Time) to its most literal form, the first feature by TV animation veteran Tyree Dillihay — from a screenplay by Aaron Buchsbaum and Teddy Riley — follows an anthropomorphic young goat who aspires to become the GOAT.

A lifelong fan of roarball (this film’s version of basketball), Will, who is voiced by Caleb McLaughlin, dreams of playing for his hometown team, Vineland. His admiration for the sport is embodied by Jett Fillmore (Gabrielle Union), Vineland’s most accomplished player, who carries the entire team on her back — she wants all the glory of victory for herself.

The world of “Goat” is divided between “smalls” and “bigs” (unlike “Zootopia” where the separation is between predators and prey). Will considers himself a “medium” but in the eyes of professional roarball players, he’s tiny. Still, after going viral for bravely challenging Mane Attraction (Aaron Pierre), one of the sport’s major stars who is double his size, Will lands a chance to play in the big leagues.

To the credit of the writers, roarball is a rather inclusive sport. There are no gendered teams, nor any discrimination based on species. Will might be the first “small” to make it big, but that stems from the public’s prejudice, not from rules that ban animals like him from playing.

Desperate for instant relevancy (like plenty of animated features these days), “Goat” is steeped in vapid internet references, from crypto to online memes. Sports fans, however, will find specific allusions, like contentious press conferences and even the kiss cam. Rowdy and kinetic from start to finish, “Goat” does in fact reflect the fast-paced dynamism of basketball, but it soon reveals itself a sugar rush without much substance.

Once Will joins the team, a “never meet your heroes” lesson ensues, since Jett feels like he’s usurping her position. Animosity on her part creates tension until Will opens up about his personal reason for playing. The emotions are not complex here, but they are heartfelt, thanks to how McLaughlin and Union conjure up larger-than-life personalities via their voice performances.

Meanwhile, Will’s other teammates — a rhinoceros, a giraffe (played by Curry himself), an ostrich and a Komodo dragon — don’t feel distinct enough from the ensemble casts of other animated projects like “Sing.” Each member of the assortment has their quirks, some of which occasionally yield a chuckle: Archie (David Harbour), the rhino, has two comically violent kid daughters.

There’s no denying “Goat” has a vibrant aesthetic, but that alone can’t overwrite its defects. Back in 2018, Sony Pictures Animation dazzled the industry when “Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse” introduced an approach that mixed 3D CGI with traditional hand-drawn animation. This combination of techniques doesn’t make “Goat” particularly unique anymore.

What’s most impressive, visually, about “Goat” is the way the natural world blends with the urban settings. Vineland, Will’s neighborhood, is indeed covered in vines and yet the vegetation appears organically integrated into the infrastructure. Each game takes place in a different ecosystem. The finale, for example, unfolds amid cracked volcanic rocks and lava. There’s visible handcraft and care in creating these backdrops for the action.

A mixed bag of eye-catching imagery and formulaic writing, “Goat” disappoints because it follows every expected path toward a triumphant conclusion. Its premise could have offered up a kid-friendly reading on failure that doesn’t simplify a way out of adversity. If talking animals will continue to be used as surrogates for human experiences — especially for young viewers — some nuance would be appreciated.