Just when I thought I’d seen enough biopics about musical artists in recent years to last me a lifetime, The Greatest Showman filmmaker Michael Gracey’s remarkable Better Man brings us the story of Robbie Williams and thrillingly breathes new life into the genre.
All of the ingredients are there for a compelling narrative. A self-absorbed father largely absent during adolescence; burning ambition coupled with relentless self-doubt; struggles with addiction; the scrutiny and trappings that come with intense fame; a doomed romance; and a moving, satisfying resolution. Even told in a more conventional way this would still have been a worthwhile watch, but what sets this film apart is Gracey’s bold move of representing the lead character of Robbie (played by Jonno Davies) as an anthropomorphized monkey.
The visual effects by Wētā FX, who have worked on The Lord of the Rings trilogy, Planet of the Apes, and Avatar, are impeccable. From the first moment that we encounter little Robbie (Asmara Feik) being picked last by his mates to play football in the working class West Midlands industrial city of Stoke-on-Trent, while trying his best to keep up a brave face—before proving to be a hopeless goalkeeper—I was immediately drawn into the inner-life and emotions of the character and didn’t give his monkey form another thought. Somehow it just works, by a feat of movie magic and daring storytelling, and thanks to a mix of high-tech wizardry and very human touches. For instance, those are Williams’ own eyes that we see on the character throughout, having been motioned captured. The all-round excellent supporting acting performances also help, as the cast play to Robbie the character, not to him as a monkey, so it becomes more about how he sees himself rather than how others see him.
When it comes to the film’s monkey business it never for a moment feels gimmicky or draws attention to itself. One considerable benefit of Williams being rendered as a simian is that there is none of the usual distraction that comes with biopics of looking at an actor’s face and continually comparing them to the real person. Here, we just get drawn into the narrative and go with it. Jonno Davies’ physicality as the CGI Robbie (which also incorporates some of Williams’ own motion captured movements), along with the duality of hearing Davies’ voice as well as Williams’ own speaking and singing voice, all work to build a convincing and captivating central character.
Erik Wilson’s cinematography is exceptional, encompassing gritty realistic scenes like those set in 1980s Stoke—with desaturated colours and a grainy texture—along with some of the vibrant and more heightened movie musical numbers, like the showstopper “Rock DJ” set on London’s Regent Street as Take That are enjoying the first waves of fame. While later in the film, the distinction between visual styles is used to stunning effect during Robbie’s meet-cute with All Saints’ Nicole Appleton (a wonderfully tender and engaging Raechelle Banno). Set on a yacht in the South of France, it is a spellbinding sequence, staged as a sweeping classic Hollywood musical pas de deux, that is intercut with more down-to-earth scenes from the challenges of their ensuing relationship.
Coupled with Wilson’s gorgeous visuals, the choreography on the yacht scene by Ashley Wallen, with assistance from Jenny Griffin, is achingly romantic and beautifully performed by Banno and Davies. While there is a lot of fun to be had with Take That’s spicy, thrusting dance routines and Robbie’s solo on-stage choreography with his larger-than-life swagger, that belies his inner-demons which are persuasively evoked throughout as different monkey versions of himself watching disapprovingly from the crowd.
The screenplay by Gracey, co-written with Simon Gleeson and Oliver Cole, is based on hours of recorded conversations between Gracey and Williams—some of that audio even made it into the finished film—and it excels at giving us the story from Robbie’s perspective. The dialogue sounds natural and has an easy humour to it which balances out the more harrowing scenes of addiction and self-harm, though none of those scenes pull any punches.
All of the formative relationships in Robbie’s life during the period that the film covers (from childhood to his record-breaking gigs at Knebworth in August 2003) are well developed and have real nuance and depth to them, even those that have limited screen time. There’s the bright light and deep heartbreak of his romance with Nicole; the stability of his single mother, Janet (Kate Mulvany), who was always there for him; the uncomplicated bond of his boy to man friendship with Nate (Frazer Hadfield); the belittling and sidelining of Take That’s manager Nigel Martin Smith (Damon Herriman); and the strained dynamics with his Take That bandmates, most prominently a superior Gary Barlow (Jake Simmance), although the two men are now long-since reconciled. Most rich and poignant are the contrasting relationships with his father (a wonderful Steve Pemberton) who was largely preoccupied with own showbiz dreams, leaving the young Williams feeeling neglected, and Williams’ adoring grandmother, Betty (a magnificent Alison Steadman), who is pure love, with an endless supply of affection, good advice, and Walkers crisps for her grandson. If there’s any justice Premberton and Steadman should both be acknowledged with BAFTA nominations for their first-rate work in the film.
We also get an insight into Williams’ creative process with his playfully cutting writing partner Guy Chambers (a charmingly uppity Tom Budge) in a fun sequence where the two come up with the sublime “Something Beautiful”. When it comes to using Williams’ vast back catalogue (he’s had 14 number 1 albums in the UK alone), wisely, Gracey has been incredibly selective in choosing just a handful of songs to enhance key moments in the artist’s life. Most emotionally potent (yes, that means I had tears streaming down my face) is the first musical number, “Feel”, which was originally released in December 2002 taken from the Escapology album. Here, in the world of the boyhood Robbie, it becomes a song of longing for his father’s love, and the “there’s a hole in my soul, you can see it in my face, it’s a real big place” line takes on an affecting new resonance. While the most drama comes with the broiling inner-turmoil of “Come Undone” (also from the Escapology album) which sees Williams recklessly speeding through country lanes in his Aston Martin before plunging underwater in a breathtaking sequence. While the most unbridledly ebullient is the aforementioned “Rock DJ” (originally on Williams’ 2000 album Sing When You’re Winning) with its propulsive drums and exuberant synchronized dance moves.
Having come of age with these songs constantly playing on UK radio, and once owning many of Williams albums in my long-gone CD collection, rediscovering them here—having not heard them for a couple of decades—they were still incredibly familiar and I knew every lyric. Hearing them again in the film delivered some serious nostalgia accompanied by a thrilling sense that I was discovering them afresh reinvented in this new context. Composer Batu Sener’s stirring score eschews manipulation while sparingly but seamlessly weaving in elements of melodies from Williams’ songs.
When it comes to addressing media speculation about Williams’ sexuality, we hear him reference rumours that he’d slept with gay friends who described him as being bad in bed. He says that he didn’t mind people thinking that he was gay, but that he did object to the latter. It is funny, succinct, and effectively gets the point across. It comes during a lively sequence depicting the 18 months that Take That spent playing gay clubs when they first formed in the early 90s. Touchingly, we hear Robbie recall delighting in the welcoming, nonjudgmental atmosphere of those spaces and feeling that he’d found his people, he’d found “the promised land”. (Robbie expanded upon his recollections of that time and what it meant to him in our exclusive interview with him earlier this week.) Before pivoting to playing for girls, the boy band had specifically been formed as what would now be referred to as “queer bait”, to appeal to a gay audience, as evidenced by their dance routines, skimpy attire, and their first music video, “Do What You Like”, in which their end up buck naked play fighting with jelly. Eagle-eyed viewers will spot a glimpse of that video playing on a TV screen in the background of a scene where Nigel Martin Smith is being interviewed about the band’s monumental success while he shows off the array of branded merchandise available.
Better Man never shies away from the darker experiences of Robbie’s life, but it never sensationalizes those moments, instead it feels raw, honest, and intimate. I was blown away by how deeply affecting the film is, while some of the musical numbers made my heart soar. This is a devastating, healing, and uplifting watch that rewards multiple viewings. I chose to see it twice in two days and loved it just as much the second time around. At a time when movie musicals are back in theaters in a major way with the likes of Wicked and Emilia Pérez, Better Man is not only one of the best biopics of a musical artist I’ve seen but it’s also up there as one of the best and most innovative movie musicals ever made. With powerful themes of fame, self-acceptance and the endurance of the human spirit, what stands out most are the songs themselves. I came away with the lyrics and melodies of Robbie’s music swimming in my head and a newfound appreciation for him as a man and an artist. I’m looking forward to a sequel in a few decades.
By James Kleinmann
Better Man expands to theaters nationwide on Friday, January 10th, 2025 from Paramount Pictures.
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