Style over content has always been a hallmark of Lindsay Kemp, but in this case, Kemp's own outrageously marvellous sense of theatre is subverted by Eshetu's self-serving, self-congratulatory camera techniques. He leaves viewers with the impression that Kemp's visions, awash with a tacky, extravagant glamour all their own, need electronic manipulation. Eshetu's approach is jagged and uneven. Yes, there are clips from many of Kemp's most important works, but they leave you feeling dissatisfied and deprived of anything more substantial than soundbites. The clips, including some early footage of David Bowie, are interwoven with interviews, both backstage and at home. It all adds up to a frustrating hour-long trailer.
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