In at least partial response to acting as director of Bohemian Rhapsody for two weeks (though he didn’t receive credit for that time, with Bryan Singer’s place as “sole party responsible” assured), Dexter Fletcher’s latest, Rocketman, is a more surrealistic (and much gayer) biopic detailing the rise and drug-addled stumble of Elton John. Of course, like all Englishmen born to rebel in the twentieth century, Reginald Kenneth Dwight, as he was first named, grew up in rather stodgy and repressed conditions. Constantly seeking the affections of his spectral father, Stanley (Steven Mackintosh), Reggie finds himself having to ask his patriarch, “When are you going to give me a hug?” after the love drought that won’t ever seem to cease. In the end, naturally, the answer to this question ends up becoming a somewhat maudlin nod to the importance of self-love.
Though his mother, Sheila (Bryce Dallas Howard), is at least slightly more interested in her son, she isn’t exactly much comfort to his insecurities, appearing to take his grandmother’s (Gemma Jones, now gone from mother of Bridget Jones to nan of Elton John) advice to give him piano lessons when they both notice his natural gift for it as a means to “get him out of her hair.” Serving Aquanet realness all the while, which likely only fanned the latent flames of Reggie’s homosexuality. But that would be something he would stifle over and over again, even when everyone could see the truth (save for recording engineer Renate Blauel, who would become his wife from 1984 to 1988, though Rocketman makes it seem as though this and just about everything else takes place in the 70s).
Of course, as is the case in Bohemian Rhapsody, the timeline of events and people are conflated for the sake of cinematic flair. For example, 1) he did not come up with his last name simply by happening to notice a picture of The Beatles and honing in on John Lennon, 2) at the time of Elton John’s first U.S. performance at The Troubadour, “Crocodile Rock” was not yet released though it is the show-stopping performance of the movie that the unsuspecting crowd is delivered and 3) no, John Reid (Richard Madden) wasn’t so quickly out of the picture as the biopic makes it appear, nor did they meet at Mama Cass’ house after his Troubadour performance. But then, how can someone interpreting Lee Hall’s script possibly be bothered with rigid facts and linearity? Lee Hall, who also fittingly wrote the script for 2000’s Billy Elliott, which Elton John would later help adapt for a musical version that would debut in 2005. The Billy Elliot connections, in fact, abound, with Jamie “Billy Elliott himself” Bell as John’s songwriting partner, Bernie Taupin.
The Elton/Billy connection is at its most obvious in terms of a lack of paternal approval, and being berated at any sign of displaying “feminine” behavior, as Elton is when he casually flips through his mother’s dress catalogue. Stanley tells him there’s no reason to look at it, he’s not a girl. Considering the precious few exchanges between them are typically of this caustic bent, it’s no small wonder that Elton goes elsewhere to seek his validation and affection: from the public. Though he’s slow to realize his impact on audiences, it doesn’t take long for him to embrace stardom, noting later in rehab, “I started being a cunt in 1975, I just forgot to stop.” Rehab, to be sure, plays an integral role in many important scenes of self-analysis.
While Taron Egerton (best known for his role as Eggsy in the Kingsman film series) may not get the same accolades as Rami Malek in the persona of Freddie Mercury, his very casting as Elton John alone is political enough, with Egerton noting, “I did not get into acting to just play people like me. I don’t want to live in a world where straight people play straight people and gay people play gay people.” Would that Scarlett Johansson was allowed the same luxury. John would tend to agree, calling LGBTQ criticism of this detail “bullshit. If people don’t like it, review-wise, or it doesn’t make one dollar, it’s the movie I wanted to make and that’s all that counts.”
To the point of what kind of movie John wanted to serve as a reflection of his life, in many respects, Rocketman bears similarities to 2007’s much underrated The Beatles musical directed by Julie Taymor, Across the Universe, in terms of wielding John’s music to the mood and sentiment of its characters. Thus, tracks like “Tiny Dancer” are interpreted in a moment of jealousy or “Rocket Man” in a moment of overdose as John finds himself floating serenely in a pool à la The Graduate. Indeed, everything about Rocketman is a “mood,” an impression. One of the most abstract mainstream biopics to date. Because that much certainly wasn’t delivered by Bohemian Rhapsody, detailing a life much more complex and debauched yet somehow falling short of delivering on the visual promise of what that might have entailed.
By all logic, John’s trajectory should be arguably less interesting than Mercury’s, yet Fletcher and Hall’s collaborative effort, paired with their subject actually being alive to critique and oversee the work, have rendered Rocketman as a source of more artistic entertainment value. Even if John is the type of singer who most people merely have Greatest Hits of, he is accessible to those with no familiarity of his backstory. With Malek as Mercury, we’re not allowed as much of an emotional in save for anything other than the plight of being mocked for his teeth.
The great irony of John’s whirlwind of an existence is that fame–something people strive for often until the day they die–is what has come most easily to him. It was his personal life that was lacking, serving as the unwitting catalyst for seeking a substitute for love–as his on again, off again nemesis Madonna would say–that substitute being a drug-filled spotlight. And speaking of Madonna, maybe the next successful biopic about a complex rock star could not be about a British man. Fletcher, who once played Soap in Guy Ritchie’s (you know, the ex-husband of Madonna) Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, has, appropriately, expressed interest in tackling her as a subject next. But Elton John probably wouldn’t take too kindly to that considering his not so fuzzy competitive feelings toward her. In any case, it’s not that Rocketman declares “The Bitch Is Back,” so much as he never really went away. Because emotional scars that make one as such don’t either.
