Hollywood loves famous, unconventional musicians. You only need to look at the long string of biopics that pay tribute to their lives, image, and music to see just how well these movies play with audiences. Those that stand out do more than simply let their lead actor show off an impression and plod through the facts of a celebrity’s life, and although Rocketman partially conforms to this notion it also carries enough originality to stand on its own legs. It is not a great feat to merely film re-enactments of real events, but director Dexter Fletcher understands the importance of letting the film’s style reflect the theatrical eccentricity of his main subject. As such, a dash of magical realism and musical theatre elevate Rocketman from a dull retelling of Elton John’s life into a passionate, moving exploration of his most intimate thoughts and struggles.
Taron Egerton doesn’t reach too far to capture a perfect impersonation of Elton John, and this is probably for the best. Though neither his physical appearance nor his natural singing voice are identical to the musician himself, the lack of restriction on his performance allows for a more organic, nuanced representation. Rocketman isn’t merely a showcase of a single actor’s skills though. Fletcher paints an effervescent, surreal world around Elton that we almost always see through his eyes, whether it is a seamless transition into a childhood flashback, or a magical moment of weightlessness as he and an entire audience are lifted into the air during ‘Crocodile Rock’.
The songs are rarely the focus of the story, always playing secondary to emotional impact rather than simply being inserted as gratuitous tributes to greatness. As a result, the music feels much more purposeful and connected to Elton John’s personal journey. It’s clear from their anachronistic placement that we’re not getting literal recounts of how each song came about, but we are instead seeing the parts of his psyche that they may have sprung from.
For instance, although he didn’t specifically come up with ‘Saturday Night’s Alright For Fighting’ in his adolescence, Egerton’s kinetic performance of it as a young Reggie Dwight hints at some nostalgia for rock’n’roll that lasted for decades right up until it was actually written. Likewise, the romantic passion in ‘Your Song’ may not have literally been directed at his lyricist Bernie Taupin, but Egerton’s impassioned rendition reveals the complex kind of love Elton John often demonstrated. Though we are not getting the “real stories” behind each song, the use of his music gives us something even better – we are getting an insight into Elton’s mind, and how it was shaped by his environment.
These flourishes make it easier to look past the formulaic approach to the writing of Elton John’s story, which could easily fit the rise and fall of any other famous musician. It hits all the standard music biopic beats – the flashback to a traumatic childhood, the montage depicting a rise to success, the manipulative antagonist, the cynical producer, and so on. The result is a supporting cast that often feels flat, only defined by the roles they played in Elton’s life rather than real, living people. The exception to this is Jamie Bell’s portrayal of Bernie Taupin, who brings some genuine warmth to the script and becomes the heart of the movie.
Fletcher’s imbuements of magical realism lift the cookie-cutter script from an ordinary dramatisation into a dreamlike, impressionistic journey through Elton John’s mind. His embellished visual effects and camp musicality let us forgive any factual discrepancies, and help to clearly establish a story that rejects reality and embraces the surreal. Although Rocketman’s screenplay holds the film back from fully embracing Elton John’s boundary-pushing eccentricity, Fletcher and Egerton both succeed in delivering an otherwise stunning cinematic expression of the musician’s queer identity and unique musical style.
