Perhaps because of that last factor, it feels like an expensive fan film.
Godzilla: King of the Monsters ($110 million domestic on a $170 million budget) is made with the same level of love and fandom as Rocketman, though without the original creators as directly. Come on, Paramount - you can affiliate with Vudu or Fandango Now or Movies Anywhere like everyone else. I am annoyed at two technical aspects of the disc: one, that if the player turns off due to being paused for too long, it does not remember my spot as most other companies' discs do and two, the only option for redeeming the digital code is iTunes. He'll probably have to settle for just being fabulously handsome, but as John well knows, that's the price of success. Taron Egorton's impersonation is better than expected he does his own singing and dancing, and truly, if Rami Malek deserved the Oscar last year, doubly-deserves acting honors come awards season. Through musical numbers, including songs that were composed many years after the events depicted, Rocketman seeds the roots of John's frustrations, and the way fame satisfies some while aggravating the rest. Too many rock biopics just depict the star suddenly one day becoming a jerk who screams at people. That he opted for non-literal fantasy to de-mythologize himself might make little sense coming from anyone else as it happens, though, one comes away feeling more deeply both the pleasures and pains of stardom simultaneously. The key, I think, is that John is still alive, has been sober many years, and therefore has catalogued his excesses quite thoroughly.
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Freddie Mercury died tragically soon, yet his movie plays as triumph John basically got the happiest ending he could possibly hope for, and his movie is saturated with sadness. Comparisons to Bohemian Rhapsody may be overly predictable given that director Dexter Fletcher finished that film as well, but the contrasts in these biopics of flamboyant gay British pop stars are fitting.
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