musical biopic of Robbie Williams as performing monkey will entertain you
- Written by Daniel O'Brien, Lecturer, Department of Literature Film and Theatre Studies, University of Essex
I can remember the mixed feelings I experienced as a teenager in 1997, buying Life Thru A Lens – my first Robbie Williams album – cautious it was too poppy to sit with my humble-but-growing CD collection of artists that would later be known as Britpop.
Yet, the album’s inherent cheekiness combined with moments of vulnerability made it something I was comfortable to include as part of the soundtrack to my adolescent life. I was reminded of these feelings watching Better Man (2024), director Michael Gracey’s new biopic musical that charts the story of the Williams’ journey to superstardom, along with his self-consciousness regarding where he fits as an artist and person.
The singer-songwriter is present throughout the film, albeit off-screen in the form of the narrator, guiding us through his history: growing up in Stoke-on-Trent, the son of divorced parents, his joining and dismissal from Take That, the reckless partying, his brief relationship with Nicole Appleton, and his own solo career. There is often a brutal honesty in these events, where no one (including Williams) comes off particularly well.
What I found particularly engaging about the film is the ordinariness and honesty of Williams. He doesn’t claim to be overly talented, but is rather someone who owes his initial fame to his cheeky-chappy persona, often presented as a coping mechanism for dealing with rejection.
The film indicates how his desire for attention is presented as the result of the singer’s sometime-absent father, Pete Conway (Steve Pemberton), a struggling performer who lives for the stage but never quite made it. The young simian is left to contemplate his father’s mantra “You’re either a somebody or a nobody”, which cues some tender moments with his grandmother Betty (Alison Steadman), presented as one of the most positive relationships in his early life.
Imagery of Williams and Betty at home together on the sofa, embraced in the television glow of The Two Ronnies gives the film a sense of nostalgia. But the unhealthy and unrealistic reverence that goes with global stardom is also presented as a damaging experience that precedes the star’s drug addiction and isolation.
