“Freddie Mercury: We’ll go and punch a hole through the roof of that stadium.
John Deacon: Actually, Wembley doesn’t have a roof.
Freddie Mercury: Then we’ll punch a hole in the sky.”
And now, thousands of theatres around the world have holes in their roofs. Bohemian Rhapsody is spreading at a bewildering speed, even beyond the sky, and it’s not only the prominent song we’re speaking about. The exuberant movie tribute to Queen and their illustrious lead singer, Freddie Mercury, has arisen about a month ago and up until this day (which also marks 27 years since the star’s death), it is still being discussed by reviewers with a pinch of reluctance. Did Freddie deserve a more distinguished depiction of his path? Bear in mind that the film was never intended to be an accurate documentary nor an elaborate insight into Mercury’s private life. Whatever your interpretation may be, you’ll inevitably bust a move to Queen’s long-lasting hits and experience a 2-hour emotional ride. So far, the movie has taken on numerous connotations, for each individual out there will relate on different terms with the entire story. I know this is the beauty of it, the very reason any harsh criticism will be instantly tossed aside.
The biopic features Freddie (Rami Malek) in his initial position as a baggage handler at the Heathrow Airport. He’s temporarily caught in an environment with racist remarks aimed at him (“Oy, Paki, you missed one.”) – in relation to his Indian-Parsi heritage – and occasional disapproving glances from his father, Bomi Bulsara, who keeps quoting Zoroaster, the ancient Persian prophet: “Good thoughts, good words, good deeds.” Heartbeat intensifies when Freddie steps out of this seclusion and meets the guitarist / astrophysicist Brian May (Gwilym Lee) and the drummer / dental student Roger Taylor (Ben Hardy), just after being left by the lead singer and bassist of their band. It’s the perfect opportunity for the shy Mercury to try his luck and claim his availability to join in. One’s breathing may come to a halt when Brian and Roger shortly, but hurtfully point out Freddie’s buck teeth. This is no time for retreating, but rather for exposing a sizzling determination to unveil the unique singing skills, with an impressive vocal range. The audience beholds a new Freddie, one daring enough to draw some attention upon him and use it to his own benefit. He rightfully wins a place in the band and soon, the three eager partners are also joined by the much-needed bassist John Deacon (Joe Mazzello). With the required members altogether... what’s the next step?
Naturally, the main target is to create an album, but until the newly-founded Queen ventures into an intense songwriting process, Freddie still has to undergo a few more defining episodes. He meets his temporary future girlfriend Mary Austin (Lucy Boynton),
witnesses the insurmountable power of love and officially transitions from Farrokh Bulsara to Freddie Mercury. Once again, his father cannot possibly see eye to eye with him and is left in an ambiguous stance when the singer boldly states the following: “I’ve changed it legally. No looking back.” Just like his sister cleverly mentions, he was born in London at the age of 18 and he’s headed off to grandeurs. Mind you, there’s room for only one hysterical queen. And here he comes!
The band is expectedly off to a spectacular start, but this aspect doesn’t stop them from being fully conscious of their need to permanently stand out and get experimental with their songs. The peculiar trials they hold in the studio guide them to the production of original mixture of sounds, including the one and only Bohemian Rhapsody. Negative responses are part of the journey and the most iconic scene is the one with Mike Myers who portrays Ray Foster, the cranky EMI record executive. He makes a fuss over the length of the song (“It goes on forever, six bloody minutes.”) and declares that no one will ever listen to it (“What on Earth is it about? Scaramouche? Galileo? Beelzebub? And that Ismallah business?”). Foster’s observation (“That's the kind of song [I'm in Love with My Car] teenagers can crank up the volume in their car and bang their heads to... Bohemian Rhapsody will never be that song.”) ingeniously and comically hints at Mike Myers’ 1992 film, Wayne’s World, which showcases Wayne and his friends ferociously head-banging to Bohemian Rhapsody (you can watch the video here). But overall, Freddie and his dear friends are having the time of their lives, pouring their heart and soul into their compositions:
“Freddie: We believe in each other. That’s everything. We are going to do great things. It’s an experience. Love, tragedy, joy... It’s something that people will feel belongs to them.”
Naturally, there is a slightly drastic change in the predominant atmosphere. It’s a specific period when Mercury struggles with an inner breach of the peace. There are confirmations concerning his bisexuality, excessive parties, repetitive activities and unsettling manipulation from his personal manager, Paul Prenter (Allen Leech). Freddie reaches a certain point where he pursues a solo career, causing anguish to Brian, John and Roger, and simultaneously assuming a detrimental downfall. Mary’s agonizing words, “Your life is going to be very difficult.”, are swarming among the audience – they cannot be condemned for asking themselves if they can handle the alteration in Freddie’s life. But hey, aren’t you ready for this? Are you hanging on the edge of your seat?
Behind the dramatic effects, however, there is indeed a distressed and irascible Mercury who battles his way through loneliness, misunderstandings and exploitations. The path travelled solitarily no longer grants him the freedom to express his deepest feelings. It resembles another isolation which brings along short-term gain and long-term pain, and it takes two close friends, Mary and Jim Hutton (Aaron McCusker) – Freddie’s future boyfriend – to nudge the star and embolden him to apprehend his reality. Mary reassures him that he is, by all means, loved (and the movie successfully proves that), but cautions him to be selective with the people he spends time with. As for Jim, he affectionately confesses he will welcome Freddie with his arms wide open as soon as the troubled artist practices enough self-appreciation:
“Freddie: They’re not my friends, not really. They’re distractions.
Jim: From what?
Freddie: The in-between moments, I suppose. I find them intolerable. All of the darkness you thought you’d left behind comes creeping back in.
Jim: I know what you mean.
Freddie: Really? What is it that you do with them?
Jim: Spend time with real friends. You look like you could use a friend. (...) Come and find me when you decide to like yourself.”
Initially, it seems as if Freddie undergoes temporary insecurities when in fact, his fears never leave him entirely, transpiring through his heartfelt songs. Even the other members’ tracks represent him perfectly. Some of his doubts are diminished at times, particularly when he is onstage, the one spot which offers him security, regardless of the exposure to huge crowds. Mercury never loses sight of his main goal, and after the anticipated band reunion, during the rehearsals for the widely-known Live Aid performance at the Wembley Stadium in London, he divulges his AIDS diagnosis to Brian, John and Roger. The scene leaves room for some brief crying, but for the most part it highlights the star’s amazing viewpoint and unsurpassable desire to keep creating music:
“If any of you fuss about it or frown about it or worst of all, if you bore me with your sympathy, that’s just seconds wasted, seconds that could be used making music, which is all I want to do with the time I have left. I don’t have time to be their victim, their AIDS poster boy, their cautionary tale. No, I decide who I am. I’m going to be what I was born to be. A performer. Who gives the people what they want. Touch of the heavens, Freddie fucking Mercury.”
The movie’s ending seems to be cropped out of reality, Rami Malek’s acting stirring you to potentially stand up, with tears rolling down your face, and convince yourself that you’ve been there, that you were actually part of the audience back in the 1985’s Live Aid concert. The whole gig captures the pivotal connection between Queen and the frenetic public. Engaging songs, a passionate performance, some expanded interaction with the fans through the playful Ay-oh (sample clip here)... Freddie is a legend – not a “scared little Paki boy” deep down inside – with the purpose to spread kindness (“Good thoughts, good words, good deeds. Just like you taught me, papa.”). And the boys proudly exchanging glances behind him says it all.
Unquestionably, anyone can write anything about the movie, I don’t have any intention of adjusting opinions to my own preference. I’m here to express my utmost admiration for the entire show that has been offered to us. I did not expect an all-inclusive presentation of Freddie’s life, nor did I look forward to one. His story has been carefully authorized and his contradictions displayed in equilibrium, therefore I couldn’t ask for more. The actors outdid themselves, recreating an extravagant world to the smallest detail, with candid commitment till the end. Rami Malek has received boundless praise already, so in this respect, I can only indicate that I deeply appreciate his dedication to comprehend Freddie not only as a showman, but also as a human being.
In a modern Bohemian Rap City, with sporadic Bohemian Blasphemies, Bohemian Rhapsody is your go-to reminder that you do matter, despite the delicate affirmation, “Nothing really matters to me, any way the wind blows”. The poor boy, who needed no sympathy, devoted himself to the outcasts at the back of the room, the misfits who could only feel like belonging when music exhibited their raw fervors. How could I have not cried silently in the theatre when I had just perceived millions of loving individuals singing their hearts out and involuntarily bonding? Why would people want to see the dark side of an icon when most of us are already aware of the occurring moments of hesitancy? Why not embrace Queen’s spectacles and rejoice at their majestic, never-ending impact? My inner performer, who longs for a tight-knit world, is entirely grateful for the ardent and flamboyant Freddie Mercury.
Comments
Post a Comment