Better Man
«I emerged from the womb, dancing, and that was my advantage.»
First, it’s important to say: “It’s okay,” except for the musical interludes, the anxious episodes, and the way Robbie Williams is portrayed as a monkey. Let’s dive into whether we get an answer to the main question: “Who is Robbie Williams?” in this musical fantasy biopic directed by Michael Gracey with a budget of $100 million.
The film about a pop star’s ascent quickly turns into an unexpected internal struggle. The duality starts when the hero simultaneously feels he’s the best and realizes the sadness inside him grows alongside his father’s departure from the family. Scenes of somber reflections on his father alternate with shots of a sadly singing monkey.
We definitely need to discuss why Robbie Williams chose to portray himself as a monkey. Romanticizing and sexualizing a monkey is quite bizarre, though this choice was clearly made to stand out in some way. Perhaps the monkey imagery helps him—and us—to view him more objectively through its exaggeration. After all, no one will nitpick the narrative inaccuracies when a smoking monkey is flirting with women on screen. This device adds a degree of absurdity, if not parody, to the film. But to be honest, it’s more off-putting and confusing than it is intriguing and engaging.
The relationships with his father should have been a deep and painful theme permeating the story. Instead, the director seems unsure of where to focus. He expertly diverts attention from the drugs and depression, which are treated as secondary and artificial elements, forcing viewers to center their attention on the internal conflict related to his father. As the complex dynamics unfold, the audience quickly develops a deep disdain for the father, portrayed by Steve Pemberton. So, even in the climactic moment when Robbie sings a heartfelt song with his father on stage, I’m puzzled, still unsure whether he truly overcame his inner demons and forgave him.
However, I must admit, the musicality saved this film. The atmosphere of striving for the big stage through the sensuality of music and its importance in Robbie’s life finally conveys the drive that propelled him up the career ladder. Sometimes the musical fragments are particularly successful: the moment of the loud relationship between Robbie Williams and Nicole Appleton is captured in one dance number that flows into a brief narrative. The scene with Rachael Banham, playing Nicole, stands out as one of the most successful in the film.
Still, the creators overlook important details while trying to follow the clichés of an artist’s rise. As a result, we get a biopic with the familiar structure of a celebrity’s life story, and, surprisingly, it works. However, there’s no real sense of realism—the chronological rearrangements of biographical facts only add drama, not truth. Although the protagonist remains at the center of the plot, his character constantly teeters on the edge of satire.
Spending $100 million in a creative frenzy, the creators couldn’t stop at what they had achieved and kept adding more heartfelt facts about self-acceptance, slowly bringing the film to its conclusion. It looks vibrant and musical, but it’s dragged out. And I keep coming back to the thought: “Oh my god, it’s a monkey”,
In the end, the answer to our primary question is:
“Who am I? I’m a showman, goddamn it, and it’s a sideshow, but it’s a top-class sideshow, and I’m the best at it.
And fuck everybody else.”
6/10