An Evolutionary Biopic: Better Man Review

Biopics, especially musician biopics, are a staple of the cinematic landscape. In 2024, we got treated to a smorgasbord of biopics; we got a Bob Dylan flick nominated for eight Oscars, an Amy Winehouse and Bob Marley one that no one saw, and something exciting and bold with Kneecap. In this grand Venn diagram of the boring and interesting, as well as the bold and paint-by-numbers, there is a movie where the protagonist is played by a CGI chimpanzee.

Better Man, the biopic about British pop star Robbie Williams, is undoubtedly a unique experience for an undeniably unique figure. For starters, and I did mention this but it’s helpful to reiterate, the film stars a completely computer-generated chimpanzee in the main role. The chimp, voiced by Williams, is the only CGI character in the whole film and remains this way for the duration of the movie. It’s a concept that could feel like a novelty, a bit like Williams reaching for a schtick to distinguish this film from others in a similar vein. After seeing the movie, I am happy to report that this is not only a completely necessary tool for this film to utilize, I don’t think we should ever make another musician biopic where there isn’t a CGI animal. Here’s my pitch for the Michael Jackson movie to have his chimp, Bubbles, playing him and Bubbles is played by a CGI Michael Jackson.

From a wee lad playing football in the yard to his time in the boy band Take That; his relationship with Nicole Appleton to playing Britain’s largest music festival, Knebworth—throughout all of these major life events, we also see his struggle with alcohol and substance abuse, and mental health. It’s the rags to riches of a typical biopic told through the eyes of a chimpanzee. Look, I won’t beat around the bush: the monkey does heroin.

While the monkey is a really fun and creative presentation for this story, it’s far from the only thing that makes it special. There’s a lot of talent behind and in front of the camera. Most notable is probably the director, Michael Gracey, who is cementing himself as a musical guru after this and Greatest Showman. Amazingly, Gracey said that idea for this film came to him pretty naturally after spending a few sessions with Willaims. He brings a gravitas to this film that is really refreshing; it helps the film achieve this feeling of a prestigious musical. It far extends beyond reenactments of concerts; it really focuses on those MERMs (Musically Enhanced Reality Moments) and allows for the songs to feel grandiose. There is one sequence that is particularly effervescent and feels quite special. Set on one of London’s busiest streets, Regent Street, the scene is Williams and Take That singing one of his hits “Rock DJ.” It’s a pseudo-oner with some seriously intensive and energetic choreography. It’s propulsive and possesses an energy that can only be achieved through musicals.

That’s the meat of it all, the musical aspect. It avoids the traditional trappings of a standard biopic because Williams music is integrated as musical numbers rather than performances, and musicals provide an audience with a familiar and unique opportunity for honesty. There is a simultaneous lack of facade and complete artifice with musicals. Everyone is singing, sure; but everyone is singing exactly how they feel in that particular moment. There is no guessing with musicals, there’s just soliloquies. Heightened reality that gives way to complete honesty, and that’s what Better Man leans into so well. The movie speaks with such sincerity. A lot of that comes from the genre it’s speaking in, as well as the choice to have Williams narrate and voice the monkey. The choice to make him a monkey shifts from a gimmick to an opportunity to use it as a mask, to speak directly to the audience about who Williams was and is and how he views himself. It’s quite exciting to have a story like this be told where it doesn’t feel like filmmakers were guessing at what was maybe said to the protagonist in that mysterious hotel room of confrontation. Instead, we got airing out details and conjuring up the emotions he felt at these points in his story. It’s complete and utter transparency using overt and obvious imagery. 

That imagery sticks with you because it is quite striking. A lot of this film is very bold in its camera direction and style. There’s a lot of vivid colors, fun usage of rack focus, and propulsion to the way the film is shot. One of the recurring images of the film is every time Robbie is performing, we are shown a younger version of him in the audience judging the singer. It’s revisited time and time again, particularly as Williams devolves into a world of drug addiction and alcoholism. This recurrent imagery of the past version of yourself disapproving of the choices you are making is something that feels quite powerful. It’s always a bit of a surreal moment whenever he sees these previous versions of himself. Robbie just continues to feed into this perception he has of himself, that he is someone who never evolved. He got famous very young and stayed the same age forever. Seeing the previous versions of himself continue to judge him for making all the same mistakes really speaks to the central thesis of the film. We must allow ourselves to grow, because with growth comes forgiveness.

Williams has never shied away from the spotlight or the moment. In fact he has always been good at creating moments for himself, which is shown in the movie multiple times. He will be keeled over from too much cocaine and thrust onto stage and still find a way to command the crowd. But with so much spotlight and so much talent for commanding the spotlight, there comes a lot of dependency. An artist becomes dependent on the fans for validation, thus eliminating the need for self validation. Why would you need to define who you are to yourself or even your family? You have thousands of people telling you who you are and how important you are every day of your life. It’s a shallow game which seems to almost always end up creating resentment. 

What I think Better Man does better than nearly any other biopic is it fully and transparently acknowledges the complexities of Williams’ story. In fact, it does this so well that it would be hard to call him the protagonist of this story; he falls much easier into the villain role of the piece. He is completely open and honest about how he sees himself, the terrible way he treated his loved ones, the jealousy and the greed that comes with mega fame, the pressures to succeed once you’ve bet on yourself. This honesty does not exist without the monkey. The monkey, serving as a mask, allows for Robbie to fully translate his entire story. It gives him the ability to go from his beginnings, all the way to the present moment without having to fabricate an emotion or a memory. Michael Gracey helps with this transparency by making this film a musical, a genre that is inherently honest. Robbie gets to sing his songs and attribute them to specific times in his life. It gives his discography a new life, recontextualizes the artist’s life.

Is Better Man a perfect movie? Yes it is; but is it a groundbreaking musical? Also yes. Sorry, I don’t think I have a point. Wait, yes I do, Better Man feels like a cracking open of a new style. In a genre where the films have become increasingly stale, but remain ever popular because of their subject matter, Better Man dares to ask what if a biopic was extremely exciting and no one saw it? It’s a film that understood the subject matter perfectly and found tonal balance to tell an emotional story. Grandiose in presentation, propulsive in execution, and most of all a lot of fun. My concise closing pitch, the selling point that I have been using while I proselytize this movie and try to get butts in seats is this: monkey gladiator fight. There’s maybe, I don’t know, let’s say a million and a half monkeys attacking Williams while he sings his song “Let Me Entertain You.” He has to throw spears and swords through their chests and beat all of them up and stuff. It was just such a unique visual metaphor that comes at the climax of the story; a perfect representation of Williams’ inner struggle. I don’t know if there’s much more I can say to convince you to see the film. If an epic monkey gladiator fight doesn’t get you over the edge, then maybe I have to accept that you and I are very different people.