There’s a core image in Better Man, the biopic of British pop icon Robbie Williams. It’s the brash young singer, bouncing and giggling, but on his hat are embroidered the words “Northern Scum.”
It’s a symbol of how he makes a joke of his internalized self-hatred, his insecurities about being the outsider, about not really deserving to be there. Well, that’s made even more obvious by the fact the Williams of wild, charming, fantastical, and heartbreaking musical biopic Better Man is represented as a walking, talking monkey-man.
For anyone who doesn’t know Robbie Williams, he was the fat one in a very successful boy band who became a hugely successful pop solo star before finally maturing into a beloved, Sinatra-loving entertainer – basically, Justin Timberlake if he looked like Joey Fatone. In Better Man, he’s played by Jonno Davies as a chimp – a physical manifestation of Williams’ own self-image as little more than a performing monkey.
There are undoubted similarities to Rocketman, the Elton John biopic that Better Man director Michael Gracey was attached to back when Tom Hardy was supposed to play everyone’s favorite gap-toothed piano superstar. But then, that’s because there are incredible similarities between John and Williams – hard-luck kids with a flair for over-the-top entertainment, a self-destructive streak a mile wide, serious daddy issues (explained through a brilliant Steve Pemberton as Williams’ infuriating absentee father), a deep love for their nans (Steadman here, delightful and heartwarming), and a charm that’s built more on bravado than self-belief. But it’s not an emulation of that film. Instead, it’s in conversation with other works about the wonky emotional foundations of showbiz and the costs of fame – with Rocketman, yes, but also 24 Hour Party People, Pink Floyd’s The Wall, and The Tortured Poets Department. Just think of the linguistic contrast between Freddie Mercury instructing the audience that we will rock you compared to Williams pleading “let me entertain you.”
It’s not newfound self-pity, but a thread in Williams’ work that’s always been there. Longtime fans (and there are millions of those globally) may remember the video for his single “Rock DJ” featured Williams literally ripping himself to pieces to make the audience love him. It was another part of that same conversation, and Williams knows he’s part of a bigger narrative, but he’s also never letting himself off the hook. As a celebrity who shifted endless scandal-soaked tabloids for over three decades, his troubles are no secret. Yet he’s also quite prepared to show the reality was much worse and more surreal than even the most dedicated fans thought.
Yet for all the bleakness, Better Man is one of the most visually inventive and uplifting films in recent years. Gracey proved his flair for spectacle (and for popular entertainment) with The Greatest Showman, but it’s nothing compared to the exuberant chaos of Better Man (it’s also not hard to believe that he may have wanted to one-up Rocketman). Scenes explode like confetti cannons, especially in a breakneck dance stampede along London’s Regent Street set to “Rock DJ.” It’s one of many scenes that don’t just feel like tracks for a greatest hits album, but are served up with purpose, like a funeral soundtracked to “Angels” (no coincidence, the most requested song at funerals in the UK). But narrative comes first, expressed through Gracey’s world-building, from the grimy terraces of blue-collar Stoke-on-Trent to Robbie’s dream gig at the holy of rock holies, Knebworth. It’s in an exquisite dance montage of Williams’ lifechanging love with fellow pop star Nicole Appleton (the charming Banno) set to “She’s the One,” while there’s one underwater scene in particular that would make Jodorowsky weep at its magical symbolism and transitions.
And through it all, there’s Davies as Williams for everything but the singing. He may only appear under a CGI simian skin, but because of his amazing performance, Williams has never been more exposed. It’s a monumental technical achievement, expressive and haunting, especially in those moments when that nervous little monkey boy that became an insecure monkey man is menaced over and over again by his own former selves from the crowd. But when that big chimp face reveals that warm, cheeky, human grin, you’ll know you’re in the presence of a great entertainer. So let him entertain you.
An earlier version of this review ran during Fantastic Fest 2024.
This article appears in January 10 • 2025.
