Better Man 2025 Movie Review
The thing that’s understandably on everyone’s lips about ‘Better Man (2024)’ is the fact that its star is portrayed as a CGI monkey for the duration of the film. This baffling decision is never acknowledged within the narrative, and the feature would by and large have been exactly the same if it didn’t have a Simian star (except for that fact that it wouldn’t have a Simian star, of course). It’s entirely a marketing choice, one intended to peak people’s curiosity and get them into the cinema; it doesn’t really have a thematic underpinning, aside from perhaps one vague concept that isn’t explored particularly well by the picture. One could argue that it reflects the wild, ‘bad boy’ mentality of its subject, as the feature is unable to exist without doing something provocative with the sole intention of getting attention for it. Still, I can’t look at the piece too cynically. The fact that it would be fundamentally the same if it didn’t star a primate is actually kind of a compliment, as this music biopic is really accomplished (especially considering its typically restrictive and overdone genre) and remains entertaining for its majority. That it doesn’t use its monkeyness as a crutch goes to show that while it may use its gimmick to get you in the cinema, it doesn’t need it to keep you there. In all fairness, the monkey element is done so seamlessly that you can’t help but be impressed that the filmmakers were somehow able to make their jobs ten times harder – rather unnecessarily, I’ll add – and still do those jobs to a truly high standard. The CGI is genuinely great and it’s easy to forget that you’re looking at a digital creation at times. A fun way to view the picture is as a reverse ‘The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992)’ (or one of their other feature outings), but swap the ratio of non-human to human and replace Michael Caine with a monkey man. It’s no less ridiculous for Michael Caine to cry opposite a Muppet than it is for, say, Steve Pemberton to get into it with what must have been a man in a silly skintight mocap suit.
It’s not like they were too busy monkeying around with the CG budget to focus on what actually matters here, either. The two core tenants of a biopic ought to be character and spectacle, and this has both in spades. Instead of getting caught up in the typical ‘information as art’ escapades of features that focus on showing how thing x influenced song y or ticking off a bullet-point list of real-life events in a misguided attempt to entertain the viewer by essentially saying “and then this happened” over and over again, the film puts its focus squarely on its flawed central character and makes his development the centre of its world. Although he doesn’t undergo a massive or especially varied arc, Robbie Williams has clear internal issues he needs to work through. These are treated almost as the story’s antagonist, getting in the way of the lead actually being able to enjoy what he’s doing. His journey is, in essence, one of self-acceptance and of unlearning the harmful idea that being famous is more important than all else. It’s not as if it entirely avoids the pitfalls of its genre, and its plot is basically beat-for-beat what you’d expect it to be, but it reframes its generic elements in a way that takes the sting out of them – or, at the very least, executes them well enough that nobody really minds they’re being fed a very basic meal. The lead character is played by two separate people, with Jonno Davies doing the on-set mocap and Robbie Williams himself doing the voice work and narration. Of course, the performance is further augmented by the multitude of visual effects artists who brought it to life, as is always the case with these types of character. At any rate, Williams is surprisingly good. Not revelatory, by any measure, but good nonetheless. The other performers are also fairly strong (the Alison Steadman and the aforementioned Steve Pemberton are the highlights), even if their roles don’t require all that much of them.
One of the film’s greatest strengths is its stylish presentation. There are plenty of really enjoyable musical scenes and montages, each of which perfectly convey the desired mood by marrying one of Williams’ signature songs with creative visuals and exciting editing. A highlight is a vibrant, bombastic oner that sees Take That take to the streets of London in jubilation and features complex choreography, quickfire costume changes, and scores of extras all dancing in unison to the joyous tune of ‘Rock DJ’. Another standout sequence comes after a meet cute on a boat, as Robbie Williams and Nicole Appleton’s song-and-dance to ‘She’s The One’ is intercut with flashes of their whirlwind romance and is eventually juxtaposed across the various struggles the couple will come to face in a way that seems to mix ‘The Greatest Showman (2017)’ with ‘Up (2009)’. Some of the more elliptical segments include a frenzied barrage of performance, drug misuse, self-doubt, and disassociation as the lead rockets his way up the solo charts and down to his lowest point yet (I forget which song accompanies this), and a poignant scene in which ‘Angels’ is used to mark the passing of an important character that’s sure to get your tear ducts working. In all of these cases, the inventive imagery is striking and goes just as far as the music in terms of communicating where the character is in his overarching journey. There are even a few unexpected yet fun fantasy elements, such as an extended sequence set at the Knebworth Festival that you have to see to believe. These moments blur the line between fact and fiction, real and imagined, and this haziness is made even less concrete by the fact that the lead character is portrayed as a monkey (which obviously shades the whole affair in an unreal hue).
As I mentioned earlier, the feature does fall into some of the same routines we’ve seen time and time again with the music biopic. It also has a couple of flaws when it comes to its theming. For instance, some of its elements of redemption are a little confusing in that they apply to characters who haven’t really earnt them. A lot of the affair feels a bit ‘woe is me’, even though it claims to want to avoid that (both figuratively and literally, via narration), and it sometimes struggles to balance the idea that someone as rich and famous as Williams can still be unhappy and ill-equipped to deal with their feelings with the reality that they are also afforded a lot of opportunities not given to other people who struggle with the same things. Tonally, the flick never seems quite sure if it wants to be sardonic or sincere. While this almost replicates the identity crisis the protagonist goes through as he tries to build a solo career and can’t quite seem to land on a sound that truly represents who he is, it also leads to some moments that seem out of place and creates a clash between the movie’s real-time events and the narration that frames it (the final line, in particular, seems out of keeping with the preceding attempt to get you fully on the often intolerable lead’s side). The story is delivered a little clumsily in general, relying heavily on said narration and feeling a tad too long overall. It doesn’t quite play with its more self-aware elements as much as it perhaps needs to in order to warrant their inclusion, either. Still, its pacing is mostly tight and the piece is never anything less than engaging. It remains enjoyable for its duration.
Ultimately, this is a surprisingly good effort. It makes you care about its core character, no matter how selfishly and foolishly he acts, and it rises above its gimmick to craft a visually compelling, sometimes touching and generally entertaining experience that’s probably one of the better entries in its genre. If it had pushed the boundaries of that genre just a little more, it might have been something truly special. As it is, it’s an enjoyable movie musical that does what it needs to and does it really well.
