Better Man – Review

The past few years have ushered in a wave of biopics about iconic musicians. From Freddie Mercury’s electrifying journey in Bohemian Rhapsody (2018) to Elton John’s kaleidoscopic highs and lows in Rocketman (2019), Hollywood has taken audiences deep into the lives of musical legends, each offering a unique perspective on fame and artistry. 

But with the genre starting to feel predictable, it was only a matter of time before filmmakers sought to shake up the formula, which is what sets Better Man apart as it boldly reimagines the traditional artist biopic with an unexpected, playful twist. And it takes two to tango, so delivering this new spin is director Michael Gracey (The Greatest Showman), who takes a wildly imaginative approach to unpack English singer-songwriter Robbie Williams’ rise to fame.

Williams, who has led a colourful career, starting as one-fifth of British boyband Take That, before replacing it with a solo career that labelled him a bad boy of pop, and it’s this notoriety that audiences want to see, so the film has replaced the singer with a CGI monkey in an otherwise human cast.

Williams candidly narrates the film, recounting his tumultuous journey from Take That’s cheeky boy-band star to solo sensation and tabloid mainstay. Drawing inspiration from Williams’ own self-deprecating humour – he famously likened himself to a performing monkey – Gracey crafts a surreal yet deeply personal exploration of Williams’ fraught relationship with fame. It’s an audacious gamble, but one that pays off, turning the familiar beats of a music biopic into something refreshingly unconventional and strangely heartfelt.

Better Man, which takes its title from his 2001 hit single of the same name, from his 2000 studio album, Sing When You’re Winning, opens with eight-year-old Robert Williams being abandoned by his aspiring stand-up comedian father. As young Robert walks the streets of Stoke-on-Trent singing Feel, a song by his future self, the moment is both surreal and devastating. His slumped shoulders and glassy eyes convey a haunting vulnerability, perfectly accompanied by the song’s poignant lyrics. It’s an opening that sets the tone for a film unafraid to merge spectacle with raw emotion, ensuring audiences connect with Williams.

Jonno Davies’ (Hunters) motion capture performance as “Chimpy” Williams captures a vulnerable yet charismatic figure navigating a world filled with human counterparts. Wētā FX, the same studio behind 2024’s Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes (no wonder the chimp looks familiar…), brings the digital chimpanzee to life, creating a character that feels both animalistic and deeply human.

Steve Pemberton (The League of Gentlemen) plays Peter Conway, Williams’ Sinatra-worshipping absentee father, whose abandonment leaves a lasting wound that defines Williams’ lifelong pursuit of validation. Meanwhile, Kate Mulvany (The Great Gatsby) as Janet, Williams’ steadfast mother, and Alison Steadman (Pride and Prejudice) as his doting grandmother Betty, ground him with moments of warmth and stability amidst the chaos.

The chaos begins with Williams’ brash entrance into the world of pop stardom in 1990. His cocky charm lands him a spot in pop group Take That, but it doesn’t take long for the cracks to show. Constantly overshadowed by lead singer Gary Barlow, portrayed with a pitch-perfect mix of sanctimony and ambition by Jake Simmance (Anatomy of a Scandal), Williams struggles to assert himself. Manager Nigel Martin-Smith, played by Damon Herriman (Once Upon a Time in Hollywood) with a sinister edge, reinforces Williams’ insecurities by renaming him “Robbie” and dismissing his talents, thereby serving as a symbol of the pressure and criticism that chips away at the singer’s confidence.

Yet it’s not just the external forces like Martin-Smith or the relentless tabloid scrutiny, but the internal demons that haunt him. These mental demons in the form of scowling chimps, shaped in part by his father’s insistence that the worst fate is to be a nobody berate, belittle him, and push him to the edge. Gracey amplifies this chaos through surreal sequences and frenetic montages that mimic the dizzying highs and crushing lows of fame, with rapid cuts and disorienting visuals that feel as chaotic as the celebrity machine itself.

These hallucinations culminate in a bizarre and audacious gladiatorial battle scene where Williams faces his monkey-like alter egos in a visceral fight for survival reminiscent of the Planet of the Apes movies but also somehow uniquely personal. As blood and smoke fill the fields of Knebworth in Williams’ iconic 2003 performance of Let Me Entertain You, the film transforms into something raw and primal, its sheer audacity bordering on madness worthy of its M-18 rating. The camera whirls and dives, sling-shotting through scenes that rapidly shift in location and context. 

Employing this inventive visual storytelling with other Williams classics, Angels, often a funeral staple, is reimagined in a hauntingly poignant sequence framed by a sea of mournful black umbrellas. On a lighter note, the exuberant music video for Rock DJ plays against Take That’s rise to fame, with a cheeky and electrifying dance number featuring hundreds of performers on London’s Regent Street. The choreography bursts with joyful energy, each move meticulously designed yet brimming with spontaneity, creating a showstopper that feels as bold as the man it represents.

Amid the musical bombast, one of the film’s most poignant moments comes when Williams meets British girl group All Saints’ Nicole Appleton (Raechelle Banno, Pandora) at a masked New Year’s Eve boat party. Their romance unfolds through a tender rendition of the love song She’s the One, intercut with future heartbreaks, including their doomed engagement and the devastating impact of Appleton’s abortion, forced upon her by industry pressures. Gracey captures their whirlwind relationship with lyrical grace, juxtaposing their early infatuation with the fragility of their bond.

Gracey also juxtaposes these emotional beats with moments of pure cinematic insanity. While Better Man follows familiar beats (charting Williams’ rise, fall, and redemption with pat commentary on the perils of fame…) it repeatedly shatters that predictability with audacious musical interludes  so wild, it almost becomes satirical as the film refuses to let viewers settle into comfortable expectations. 

Somehow, this collision of styles weirdly works to the film’s advantage. By anchoring Better Man in a traditional biographical structure, the narrative provides a familiar framework for audiences to navigate, allowing the film’s more surreal flourishes to stand out without tipping into incoherence. 

It’s a balancing act that could have gone disastrously wrong, but Gracey maintains control. His collaboration with cinematographer Erik Wilson, who brings the same visual charm he lent to the Paddington movies (2014 – present), turns even the most outrageous scenes into poignant moments. Whether it’s a bleach-blond chimp in a tracksuit or an apocalyptic reimagining of Williams’ Knebworth performance, the visuals support rather than overwhelm the story. As for the story, as biopics go, there are some creative liberties (he didn’t meet Appleton on a boat, or mend fences with his father publicly as shown in the film) but nothing too divergent from fact.

That’s where Better Man excels – it’s not just a flashy ego project or a gimmicky take on the biopic genre, but a raw, occasionally bonkers portrayal of a man whose life is equal parts tragedy and triumph. By embracing its eccentricities, the film captures something rare: the messy, unfiltered essence of its subject. You’ll laugh, you’ll gasp, and you’ll question whether it’s all too much, but you won’t look away as the bad boy transforms into a better man. 

And isn’t that exactly what Robbie Williams would want?

Natalie

Natalie is a big fan of anything related to movies, TV shows, and anime — you name it. When she’s not reading or being a dedicated cinephile, she’s probably playing gacha and tabletop games, or daydreaming of Sylus from Love and Deepspace.