Elvis Presley 1970: Some Gorgeousness from That’s the Way It Is
In 1970, Elvis Presley stood at a crossroads that only legends ever reach—the rare moment when raw talent, hard-earned mastery, vulnerability, and supreme confidence collide. Captured in the concert documentary That’s the Way It Is, this era shows Elvis not as a relic of the 1950s or a myth in the making, but as a fully realized artist in his prime. The images from TTWII are more than beautiful—they are revealing. They show the King stripped of illusion and reborn as something deeper: a musician completely present in his craft.
This is not nostalgia for nostalgia’s sake. This is the electricity of a man who knew exactly who he was, what he could do, and how fleeting the moment might be.
The Context: Why 1970 Mattered So Much
By 1970, Elvis had already lived several careers in one lifetime.
The rockabilly rebel.
The movie star.
The comeback hero of 1968.
But That’s the Way It Is captures something different
It documents his Las Vegas residency not just as a performer’s spectacle, but as a working musician’s process—rehearsals, mistakes, jokes, frustration, joy
We see Elvis thinking, listening, adjusting. We see him working.
This was Elvis reclaiming authorship over his art.
He wasn’t chasing trends.
He wasn’t trying to shock.
He wasn’t trying to relive the past.
He was refining himself in real time.
The Look: Effortless, Commanding, Iconic
Let’s be honest—1970 Elvis was visually stunning.
But the beauty in TTWII goes beyond surface-level attractiveness.
The jumpsuits are immaculate but functional, tailored to movement and breath.
The open collars aren’t provocative—they’re practical, allowing freedom as he sang.
The hair is iconic, yes, but controlled, intentional, no longer wild rebellion but sculpted authority.
Most striking is his face.
There’s maturity there.
Focus.
A calm intensity.
He doesn’t look like someone trying to be seen.
He looks like someone who knows everyone is already watching.
The Eyes: Where the Real Story Lives
If there is one quiet detail that defines Elvis in That’s the Way It Is, it’s his eyes.
They are alert during rehearsals, scanning musicians, listening for nuance.
They soften when he jokes with the band.
They sharpen when the music hits a groove.
These are not the eyes of a manufactured idol.
They are the eyes of a man deeply aware that every performance could be the performanceThat awareness gives the film its power You can sense that Elvis is savoring the moment while simultaneously trying to control it.
That tension—between joy and pressure—is what makes the footage so mesmerizing.
Rehearsals: Genius in Motion
One of the most underrated aspects of TTWII is how much time it spends on rehearsal.
Elvis stops songs mid-phrase.
He reworks arrangements on the spot.
He listens intently to background singers and musicians.
There’s no ego here—only standards.
When something isn’t right, he doesn’t explode. He explains. He demonstrates. He insists.
You see a man who understands music not as performance alone, but as architecture. He knows how each part fits, and he refuses to let the structure weaken.
This is gorgeousness of a different kind: competence, authority, care.
The Voice: Controlled Power
By 1970, Elvis’s voice had matured into something extraordinary.
The raw edge of the 1950s was still there—but now wrapped in control.
The phrasing more deliberate.
In TTWII, his voice doesn’t strain. It commands.
He moves effortlessly from thunder to tenderness.
And the camera stays close enough for you to see it happen—jaw, throat, breath, sweat. Nothing is hidden.
This isn’t studio magic.
This is physical mastery.
The Band: Mutual Respect on Display
Another beautiful element of That’s the Way It Is is the relationship between Elvis and his musicians.
He laughs with them.
Teases them.
Thanks them openly.
There’s no hierarchy in spirit, even if he’s clearly the leader.
This matters.
It shows that Elvis understood something crucial: the magic wasn’t just him. It was the collective. And he treated that collective with respect.
That humility—quiet, consistent, unforced—is part of what makes this era so compelling.
Confidence Without Arrogance
What separates 1970 Elvis from many stars before or since is this:
he was supremely confident without being arrogant.
He knew his power.
He knew his influence.
But he didn’t need to weaponize it.
In TTWII, confidence appears as calm presence, not domination. He doesn’t rush. He doesn’t overperform. He allows silence when needed.
That restraint is beautiful.
The Emotional Undercurrent
Beneath all the polish, there’s an emotional current running through the film.
You sense awareness.
You sense pressure.
You sense a man trying to hold onto equilibrium.
Elvis smiles—but not blindly.
He jokes—but not frivolously.
There’s gravity here.
It’s the awareness of someone who has seen how fast things can slip away—and is determined, in this moment, to do it right.
Why That’s the Way It Is Still Hits So Hard
Decades later, TTWII endures because it doesn’t mythologize Elvis—it humanizes him.
It shows greatness as something practiced, not inherited.
It shows beauty as something built from discipline and vulnerability.
It shows the King not on a pedestal, but in motion.
That’s why these images feel so alive.
They aren’t frozen legend.
They’re living presence.
The Kind of Gorgeousness That Lasts
When people talk about “gorgeous” Elvis moments from 1970, they often mean the visuals—and yes, those are undeniable.
But the real gorgeousness of That’s the Way It Is lies in something deeper:
A man fully engaged with his craft
A voice at peak control
A presence grounded in confidence, not chaos
An artist who knew exactly what the moment demanded
That kind of beauty doesn’t fade.
Final Thoughts
Elvis Presley in 1970, as captured in That’s the Way It Is, represents something rare in any artist’s life: alignment.
Talent aligned with discipline.
Fame aligned with purpose.
Confidence aligned with humility.
It is not the flashiest Elvis.
It is not the youngest Elvis.
It is, arguably, the truest Elvis.
And that is why, all these years later, the gorgeousness still stops us in our tracks.
