BETTER MAN Review

Sitting down to watch Better Man, in a surprisingly empty cinema, I knew I wasn’t in for a conventional retelling of Robbie Williams' celebrity life. Directed by Michael Gracey, known for The Greatest Showman, the film promised to be bold, creative, and, above all, deeply personal. Oh yes! And also the promise to portray Williams as a CGI chimpanzee. Yes, a chimpanzee. This unusual choice might leave you scratching your head, almost chimp-like, but as the story unfolds it becomes clear that taking risks to convey a narrative far deeper than a straightforward biography feels entirely apt in this case. Equally, I sorta forget about the chimp by about the midpoint of the movie.

Covering Robbie Williams’ life from his humble beginnings in Stoke-on-Trent to his meteoric rise with the boy band Take That and the ups and downs of his solo career, along the way Better Man delves into his well-documented struggles with addiction, mental health challenges, and the overwhelming pressures of fame. But instead of showing these events through the traditional lens of a human actor portraying Robbie, the film uses the aforementioned digital chimpanzee alter ego (played through motion capture by Jonno Davies) as a metaphor to how Williams perceived himself during his darkest times—a "performing monkey" trapped in an exploitative system. The chimpanzee represents Robbie’s sense of dehumanisation, of being reduced to an entertainer whose worth was measured solely by his ability to perform. It’s an unusual and risky approach, but it pays off by adding a layer of introspection that a conventional portrayal might have lacked.

One of the film’s boldest aspects is how it tackles the highs and lows of Robbie’s career without sanitising his experiences. It doesn’t shy away from his battles with substance abuse or the existential crises that plagued him during his rise to fame. Yet, there’s also a sense of humour that runs through the narrative—a self-awareness that keeps the story from becoming overly dour. Gracey’s direction balances these tonal shifts effectively, blending moments of levity with scenes of raw emotional intensity.

The surreal visuals are not limited to the chimpanzee motif. The film features dreamlike sequences that blur the lines between reality and Robbie’s inner psyche. For instance, a standout scene involves Robbie performing on stage while the audience morphs into echoes of his past; those inner critics, again as chimpanzees, clothed in a variety of outfits representing his many reinventions. These moments are visually striking and emotionally resonant, capturing the alienation that often accompanies fame.

Better Man never shies away from using its unconventional storytelling to delve into themes of identity and self-worth. Robbie’s journey isn’t just about achieving fame—it’s about grappling with what it means to be enough, both for himself and for those around him. This universal struggle is something many of us can relate to, even if we don’t share Robbie’s celebrity lifestyle, which suggest that these themes will give the movie a broader appeal beyond fans of Williams or pop music. For those of you aware of Philip Larkin's poem, This Be The Verse, it's certain parental influence that fucks this chimp.

Which brings us to the supporting cast, all of whom do an admirable job of fleshing out Robbie’s world. The interactions between Robbie and his father (portrayed by Steve Pemberton), for instance, are particularly poignant, offering insight into the familial bonds that anchored him through turbulent times. Actors portraying the rest of his family, bandmates, and industry insiders provide glimpses into the relationships that shaped his journey. These characters are rendered in a way that feels authentic, even amidst the film’s surreal framework. But it is perhaps the scenes with Robbie's ex-fiance (Nicole Appleton, played here quite brilliantly by Rachelle Banno) that offer the most emotional and heartbreaking moments of the movie. The irony being it is her humanity and tenderness which permeate the screen, especially when played against Robbie's simian alter-ego.

Michael Gracey’s direction is both ambitious and personal. You can sense his admiration for Robbie’s story, not just as a tale of success but as a testament to resilience and reinvention. Gracey stylistic choices reflect a desire to push boundaries and invite deeper reflection that create a film that’s as much about the nature of celebrity as it is about Robbie himself. 

That said, the movie isn’t without its flaws. The metaphorical approach, while bold, won’t be to everyone’s taste. At one point, Robbie quite literally battles his past demons in a slaughterhouse style scene. Some might also find the chimpanzee device distracting or feel that it overshadows the emotional core of the story. At times, I did wish the film spent more time grounding certain events in reality, particularly during the pivotal moments of Robbie’s career, as the narrative does occasionally sacrifice clarity for spectacle, leaving some parts of his life feeling underexplored.

The soundtrack, as you’d expect, is a highlight. Packed with many of Robbie’s biggest hits, it serves as both a nostalgic trip for fans and a storytelling device that punctuates key moments in the narrative. From the euphoric highs of “Angels” to the introspective tones of “Feel,” the music captures the emotional spectrum of Robbie’s life. Each song feels carefully chosen, adding depth to the scene it accompanies. Not least of which is the rendition of "Rock DJ" soundtracking a visual montage of Take That's career. It's an exceptionally well done sequence, shot on the streets of London, which somehow outperforms the legendary music video that was produced for the song's original release.

Ultimately, Better Man is a bold, unconventional biopic that dares to be different. It captures the essence of Robbie Williams’ life story—messy, larger-than-life, and full of contradictions—while offering a fresh perspective on the pitfalls of fame. While its surreal approach might not resonate with everyone, I found it to be a deeply creative and thought-provoking take on a well-worn genre. Whether you’re a die-hard fan or simply curious about the man behind the music, Better Man is a film that challenges expectations and invites reflection. It may not be perfect, but it’s an unforgettable ride—just like Robbie himself.