The Flaws and Flourishes of Bohemian Rhapsody

I was hesitant to see Bohemian Rhapsody because I could feel my inner defense mechanisms against the superficial popularization of great rock and roll flaring up. I heard all my self-proclaimed “I don’t like old music” friends praising the film and claiming Freddie Mercury as their new god. For better or for worse events like this make my blood red-hot, considering I have spent the entirety of my short life scouring the records and personas that gave rock and roll its name in the first place. But I decided to put any misplaced bitterness aside, because I’ll be damned if I pass up any opportunity to see a guitar being played.

I think it is utterly foolish to try and tell the complete story of almost any one thing on the big screen. Especially when that thing is a career and life spanning decades. How could one summarize the complexities, dangers, thrills, and intricacies of show business in just two hours? And this was a major problem I had with the first portion of the movie. To watch the rise of Queen happen in about fifteen minutes left my floored; even pop princesses don’t have as easy a time in the music industry than how they showed this group of misfits. Now I don’t know too much about how Queen actually did come to reach their fame, as I have never really considered them my kind of thing in the first place. But what I do know is that out of all the tens of autobiographies and biographies of rock musicians I have read, this portrayal couldn’t have been more shallow if it tried.  

The biggest moment of struggle for the band is when their traditional record label executive shuts down the idea of “Bohemian Rhapsody” as being a single because it is “over three minutes, and no song over three minutes gets on the radio.” This might have been the case in 1965 rather than 1975, but after Bob Dylan and his ten-minute escapades, that notion was tossed out. The year “Bohemian Rhapsody” made the Billboard Hot 100, 1976, they capped off at number 18, and every single song ahead of them was longer than three minutes. I’m sure they had some backlash in getting the song out there, but no need to make it into a greek tragedy.

For someone that died of AIDS, the sexual discovery and expression in this film is almost nonexistent. Mercury was a man that clearly wore sexuality, not even just being queer, on his sleeve, oozing out of him everytime he stepped foot on the stage. So how come there is not one scene that indicates he is coming to terms with or figuring out his sexuality? I, and most of the audience, knew Mercury was gay, yet there was times in which I completely forgot he wasn’t straight. Being a gay man is no taboo subject now, but it surely was in the 70s. And yet this film’s version of Mercury coming out lies within “I think I might be bisexual,” to which his fiancee responds “You’re gay, Freddy.” Once he comes to terms with his sexuality, he is shown as a loose cannon. His narrative is drenched in the imagery of underground leather clubs and excessive drug usage, counteracting the wholesome image of his Queen bandmates and their families. Not to say the film is homophobic in nature, but Mercury’s sexual identity was just another factor in his life that the biopic was unable to deliver on. They bit off far too much than they could chew, without ever fully fleshing out any single idea.

And now for my own rebuttal.

Even though I feel this biopic had the depth of a puddle, I still think it’s valuable and effective in the goal it set out to accomplish. Truthful may be another story, but the movie is enjoyable and uses up every one of its 135 minutes.

Rami Malek is nothing short of genius as Mercury. Truly, I could watch his portrayal for hours, he was just so brilliant. His understanding of Mercury’s nuances and body language was clearly so deep it was almost hard to remember he was an actor. Any of this film’s praise should be handed directly to Malek, as any of the success it could receive during awards season is from his sheer talent.

One thing that is for certain is that this is not a movie about Queen, it is a movie about Freddie Mercury.  For such an important performer that was lost in the hands of tragedy this is a great mission; to immortalize one in an image of glory is the mortal attempt at cheating death. This is why all of the loose ends are tied up in a neat glittery bow: Mercury’s distant and disapproving father comes around with a tear in his eye, his band mates take no convincing to perform again after Mercury’s nastiness, his friendship with Mary becomes as vibrant as ever, and all of the darkness attached to his life (such as the toxic Paul Prenter) has disappeared. This is Hollywood’s effect on even something as gloriously grimy as rock and roll:  airbrushed to perfection. Even though morally I disagree with this type of take on music and think any biopic of the arts is a death wish, to be honorably remembered is what Freddie Mercury deserves.

The greatest accomplishment of the film is the last twenty minute sequence of Queen reuniting at the 1985 charity music-festival Live Aid. And also the reason I left the theatre streaked in tears. It could have been because I got two hours of sleep the night before, but this ending was able to tap into my bottomless pit of adoration for rock music to which I initially thought this movie was incapable of. And that alone is a great feat.

Though this movie is not for obsessive music lovers or die-hard Queen fans, it is important to keep a memory alive that otherwise might burn out far too soon. In an age where history is kept as history and media constantly propels us towards the future, it is necessary to inform a new generation of what once was, and what was once great. Though it may be a visual example of Rock And Roll for Dummies, I cannot understate the value of what it’s like to be in my friends cars that now play guitars through the aux cord. That image seems ridiculous to anyone out of high school, but trust me when I say this movie has infiltrated a younger generation for the better.