Why is Robbie Williams a CGI Monkey in 'Better Man'?

"Is this really a musical? Or is it an action movie or horror film?" These questions ran through my mind when I first saw the promotional poster for Better Man. Yet it's indeed a musical—and one of the most underrated films of 2024. While several factors contribute to its lack of recognition, being "too avant-garde" isn't one of them.

Hello Peliplaters!

I hope the poster didn't scare you away.

Looking back at Hollywood's 2024 through the lens of the Eastern zodiac, it truly was the Year of the Monkey. The industry churned out an endless stream of simian-themed films: titan monkey, killer monkey, and the Monkey King—none of which were to be taken lightly. Given this trend, it's understandable why audiences might mistake Better Man for an action or horror film.

But Better Man is actually a musical biography of Robbie Williams. This two-hour film unfolds in three acts, chronicling the legendary singer's journey—from his early struggles as an awkward youth excluded from football due to his ineptitude, to his meteoric rise as a global pop idol and finally his ultimate reconciliation with others and himself.

In this film, director Michael Gracey made the bold choice to portray Williams as a CGI monkey throughout the entire movie. The effect is stunning—it's genuinely a breakthrough for the genre. However, the film never explains or justifies his simian appearance through foreshadowing or narration, and simply presents it as reality. As a result, audiences leave the theater struggling to describe what they've just watched, regardless of whether they enjoyed it. In today's post-pandemic world, viewers are reluctant to spend money on content they can't readily comprehend. Despite Paramount's aggressive marketing campaign, Better Man flopped not only domestically but worldwide, finding its only devoted following among cinephiles in artistically inclined markets like Argentina.

I decided to watch it after seeing consistent praise on Peliplat and because of my friend's unwavering faith in the film.

After watching, I can confidently say it's the finest musical of 2024. What impressed me most was the seamless flow between musical sequences and plot. Unlike typical musicals, I never experienced that disconnected moment of wondering, "Why are the characters suddenly bursting into song and dance?"—nor did I need to convince myself, "Well, that's just how a musical works" to maintain my immersion in the story.

Musicals typically use two methods to transition from plot to musical sequences. The first method, exemplified in Wicked, emerges when a character's internal conflict reaches its peak—her emotions become too intense for ordinary dialogue and naturally overflow into song and dance. The second method, as shown in A Complete Unknown, weaves the protagonist's creative moments with his life experiences, demonstrating how his personal journey shapes his art. Though the directors employed various audiovisual techniques to smooth these transitions, both approaches can still feel forced.

When it comes to the first method, viewers focused on the story may find the musical sequences overdramatic. These sequences often require supernatural elements or unrealistic scenarios—like spontaneous group singing or chase scenes morphing into dance numbers—to match the character's emotional state, which can break the story's flow. While the second method strengthens the biographical elements, it often diminishes the musical aspects. Even though these musical moments connect directly to the protagonist's life, they confine the character within others' perspectives. This approach might fail to capture his true emotional state during songs—his yearning to escape his predetermined path. The result is a film that tends to view its protagonist more as a performer than a complete person.

In Better Man, Williams's monkey form establishes him as an alienated presence from the beginning. Throughout both the story scenes and musical numbers, he remains an "outsider" with whom the audience cannot fully empathize. This alienation not only heightens his loneliness but also makes his unconventional behavior feel natural—after all, breaking into song seems hardly unusual compared to his simian appearance.

The most striking characteristic of the film is how other characters interact with Williams as if they were blind to his monkey form. This creates an unsettling emotional effect that breaks from traditional musical and biopic conventions: a sense of distortion. Because no one acknowledges the story's legitimacy, we begin to question whether anyone—including Williams himself—has truly seen him for who he is. As a result, the only authentic elements become his songs—those we know from real life—and the universal emotions they evoke: triumph over failure, the grief for his grandmother's passing, the pain of having an absent father, the affective distancing from his mother after her remarriage and the heartbreak from his self-sabotaged relationships. Through this brilliant artistic choice, Williams and Gracey deliver their core message: life's essence lies not in our outward appearance but in our passionate, sincere heart.

Side note: If you've watched Better Man, you should also see Rocketman—these films share striking similarities. For example, both feature pivotal scenes where the protagonists reflect on their stage names. While these names represent their professional personas and aspirations, they're merely fragments of their complete selves. Like the broader theme we discussed, names reflect others' perceptions of us, yet we aren't bound by these labels. There's something liberating about breaking free from such predetermined paths, isn't there?