Directed by Michael Gracey of The Greatest Showman, Better Man is no typical music biopic. On the contrary, it was an exuberant and unlikely, if not incredibly thoughtful, film about the iconic British pop star still very much shrouded in mystery across the pond. For the uninitiated, Williams became famous as the youngest and most errant member of Britain’s act of the decade, Take That, a boy band that dominated the 1990s before jumping off into an even more explosive solo career. But Gracey’s film doesn’t simply run with a typical rise-fall-rise tale. Rather, it goes weirdly surreal as an ingenious metaphor illustrates Williams’ journey – Robbie as anthropomorphic monkey.
The Monkey Metaphor: A Bold Statement on Fame and Identity
The film opens with Williams, voiced by himself, musing, “I want to show you how I really see myself.” That vision? A CGI monkey, embodying his self-perception as a performing animal in the relentless circus of fame. The unusual framing is played with a deadpan seriousness; it’s a very personal metaphor. Williams has often described himself as a “performing monkey,” one who is less evolved and more imprisoned by the image of his public. Under this prism, Better Man delves into the vast dissonance between the way Williams perceives himself and the way the world perceives him.
Jonno Davies’ motion-capture performance, combined with Williams’ soulful narration, brings this monkey persona to life with surprising depth. The CGI character moves, gestures, and even emotes like a person, but its animalistic moments—primal screams or defensive puffing—underscore the raw, untamed chaos within Williams’ psyche.
Gracey’s Direction: A Symphony of Sensationalism and Sentiment
Michael Gracey’s flair for spectacle, honed in The Greatest Showman, is on full display in Better Man. The film oscillates between gritty realism and larger-than-life musical sequences that recontextualize Williams’ most iconic songs. Each number serves as a window into pivotal moments of his life.
One standout sequence is set to “Rock DJ,” a breathtaking one-shot performance on London’s Regent Street. Hundreds of dancers glide through a whirlwind of costume changes, chronicling Take That’s meteoric rise. It’s both nostalgic and kinetic, capturing the euphoria of stardom. Similarly, “Come Undone” transforms Williams’ expulsion from Take That into a surreal chase sequence, culminating in an evocative image of him drowning in a lake surrounded by paparazzi, their flashing cameras resembling predatory eels.
The film’s setpieces aren’t just flashy distractions; they are visceral representations of Williams’ internal struggles. His performance at Knebworth, a defining moment in his career, becomes a fantastical battle royale where he literally fights off his demons in an ape-filled arena. It’s a stunning visualization of triumph over adversity, a theme that resonates throughout the film.
The Challenges of Familiar Tropes
Despite its inventive approach, Better Man occasionally falls into the biopic trap of predictability. The rise-fall-rise structure, while engaging, sometimes feels repetitive. The narrative dutifully ticks the boxes: a tough childhood, public feuds (notably with Take That’s Gary Barlow), struggles with addiction, and the search for redemption. However, Gracey’s dynamic storytelling and willingness to experiment with tone and visuals keep the film from feeling stale.
The depiction of Williams’ darker moments—his battle with drugs, alcohol, and self-doubt—is both raw and surreal. His inner demons manifest as intrusive copies of himself, haunting him from the crowd and feeding his insecurities. This creative choice emphasizes the mental toll of fame and the isolating nature of celebrity life.
A Satirical Yet Heartfelt Take on Stardom
What sets Better Man apart is its self-awareness. Williams, never one to take himself too seriously, injects a satirical edge into the film. This humor doesn’t undercut the emotional weight of his story but instead adds a layer of authenticity. At his lowest point, the sight of a monkey crying over cocaine while wearing a futuristic fat-sucking vacuum suit is absurd yet poignant—a perfect encapsulation of Williams’ ability to laugh at his own flaws while grappling with their consequences.
The film doesn’t shy away from the ridiculousness of pop stardom. Moments of debauchery, like a chimpanzee in a nightclub, are juxtaposed with deeply moving scenes, such as a tuxedoed ape singing “My Way” as an act of self-reclamation. It’s a balancing act that mirrors Williams’ personality: irreverent, vulnerable, and undeniably entertaining.
A Unique Biopic for an Unconventional Star
Ultimately, Better Man succeeds because it embraces the contradictions of its subject. Robbie Williams is a larger-than-life figure whose antics often overshadow his artistry, but Gracey’s film ensures that both sides of him are equally represented. The monkey metaphor, though unconventional, captures the essence of Williams’ internal struggle: a man grappling with fame, self-worth, and the pursuit of happiness.
For those unfamiliar with Robbie Williams, Better Man offers an unforgettable introduction to his world. For longtime fans, it’s a bold, innovative tribute to a man who has always marched to the beat of his own drum. Like its subject, the film is brash, unapologetic, and endlessly entertaining. It doesn’t just tell Robbie’s story; it invites you to see the world through his eyes—even if those eyes belong to a CGI monkey.
