Better Man (2024) Do you wanna contact the living?
“You’ve always been there for Robbie Williams, Dad. Why couldn’t you be there for Robert?”
I always knew I’d love Better Man as not only have I been a not so secret fan of Take That since an in-joke with the first love of my life in the mid 1990’s and although this is both true and my tongue firmly in my monkey cheek, I’ve always loved the fuck you attitude of enfant terrible, Robbie Williams. So I’ve read the books and adored the warts and all and often difficult to watch 2023 documentary and should you have a spare hour in your life I’ll talk you through why Robbie’s song “Feel” splinters my heart into a thousand pieces and why nearly every line not only speaks to me, but speaks for me.
So I knew I’d love Better Man but I did fear Robbie being represented by a singing and dancing monkey would throw me completely out of the film immediately and I wouldn’t be able to settle, but it didn’t, and my goodness, what a truly magnificent film this is. OK I may be a tad biased and if you insist I’ll sing you a verse or two of a “A Million Love Songs”, but my goodness what a film. Come on, hold my hand…
You wanna contact the living?
“Cause I got too much life. Running through my veins. Going to waste”
“I want to write Karma Police by Radiohead.
Through a lyric free but beautiful piano beginning to “Let Me Entertain You” and the film’s opening credits, we quickly cut to the first of many narrations throughout the film provided by Robbie himself:
“Good evening folks! So, who is Robbie Williams? Well I’ve been called many things: a narcissist, punchable, a shit eating twat, but while I’m all those things, I wanted to show you how I really see myself. So sit back, relax, as I give you a right good fucking entertaining. So the story starts…”
We cut to a young Robbie as a monkey (yes, a monkey!) in the early 1980’s and proudly resplendent in his favourite football team’s shirt, Port Vale and, as the narration continues…
“1982, Stoke-on-Trent, the arse end of the north of England. It may look grubby and deprived but deep down, it was grubby and deprived. I didn’t have much, but at least I had the respect and admiration of my peers.
“They just had trouble showing it”.
Robbie’s self-deprecating narration matches that of the images portrayed so early in the film as he’s picked last and behind even a girl in a neighbourhood game of street football taking place on a dirty and filthy patch of ground between terraced houses with a goal painted on one wall. Despite being picked last Robbie is elated to be playing and immediately begins running with the ball and showing off, only for his fun to be curtailed and ignominiously dumped, as the youngest, in goal. As his narration continues: “I had plenty of balls, but I couldn’t stop a single one”. Mocked, laughed at and caked in filth and mud, Robbie begins to trudge off home disconsolately at the end of the game as the oldest of the children shouts after him, calling him a “fucking nobody” and as we follow his slow walk home past row upon row of terraced houses, his narration continues once more:
“See, where I grew up, you were meant to act small. But the thing is my DNA is cabaret. I came out of the womb with jazz hands. Which was very painful for my Mum”.
We cut for the first time of many in the film of Robbie sat beside his Nan “Betty Williams” (Alison Steadman) but always known here in the film as “Nan” as he eats crisps and watches Frank Sinatra singing “My Way” on television. As Robbie eagerly joins in, so does a returning from work Dad “Peter Conway” (Steve Pemberton) who was/is Peter Williams (but that would be getting too far ahead in our story for now) and is largely and simply known throughout as simply “Dad”. With Robbie now standing on the sofa and Dad singing into a beer bottle in place of a microphone, both are clearly in their element as they sing along to one (and as we’ll discover later in our story) both of the Williams’ singing heroes. I’ll leave it to Robbie to partially explain:
“My Dad was well enamoured by the stars of the day. Dean Martin. Sammy Davis Jr and of course, Sinatra. They were Gods to him”.
We cut to Robbie and his Dad now sat squarely in front of the television, enraptured by Sinatra’s performance. As their reflections merge with Sinatra on the television screen, Robbie’s Dad is beaming at Sinatra’s performance and as he describes singing on stage as “paradise” Robbie only has eyes for his Dad as he continues, stating “either you’re born with it or you’re a nobody”. Rising to their feet and both son and father combing back their hair in readiness for the final verse of the song, as his Dad continues to use a beer bottle in place of a microphone, Robbie uses his closed fist as he copies his Dad’s movements and mannerisms in time with the song but rather enthusiastically and with a wild swipe of his arms, he knocks the aerial flying from the top of the television! Angrily, his Dad sends him up upstairs with his Nan for a bath and quickly we see Robbie asking his attentive Nan “What is IT?”. A little befuddled, Robbie’s Nan asks what he means to which he replies that his Dad said you have to be born with “IT”. With a loving, beaming smile, his Nan replies “Whatever IT is, you have more than your share” and “I won’t change a hair on your head”. Downcast, Robbie replies “I don’t want to be a nobody”. Immediately his Nan adjusts a small, round bathroom mirror in his direction ala a stage spotlight and through loving smiles once more confirms that being in the limelight is OK but, pointing at his heart, this is what matters in life.
“I was 9 years old when I got my first real taste of the limelight. I can still taste that limelight. Pure, unadulterated, terror”.
Standing backstage at a school play and dressed as pirate, Robbie is now seen eagerly peeking through the curtain at the assembled crowd and whilst both his Mum and Nan are in the audience, he scans for his Dad whilst continually talking about him to a fellow child cast member.
“In the next 3 seconds I’m going to be frowned at, they’ll see that I’m ugly, stupid, that I’m untalented, that I’m not good at anything”.
Robbie’s grand entrance to the stage sees him collapsing amid much audience laughter, but as his narration continues:
“But there is one skill I’ve practiced more than any other child in the world, and that’s for showing off!”
“You see, I thought that to become famous you had to be really, really good. It turns out you just have to show off and be really cheeky”.
Making light of his fall, Robbie laughs at the audience before singing and wowing the audience with his real singing ability before bringing the school play to a rousing finale. This is cleverly juxtaposed with his Dad, miles away at a working men’s club or pub beginning a stand-up comedy routine as Robbie, heartbroken, scans the audience at the end of the play for his Dad’s approval. We see the smiles and unbridled love and approval of both his Mum and his Nan but where his Dad should be, sits an empty chair. Walking backstage and seething, Robbie screams an inner rage whilst looking into a mirror “You’re a disgrace. You’re a fucking nobody. They fucking hate you” before resuming once more with a continuing narration:
“My Dad won £5 that night. Although it might as well have been £5 Million” and as we cut back to his Dad thanking the audience and beginning to say his name of “Peter Williams” he stops himself midway and corrects himself and declares his name to be “Peter Conway”. The narration continues:
“Not only did he change his name. He changed his life. One day he went to watch the FA Cup Final and unfortunately, he didn’t come back. The audience beckoned, and he left us to be one step closer to his Gods”.
We cut to a heartbroken Robbie stood in the middle of the street singing “Feel” as he watches his Dad on the back of a coach bound for London, bound for Wembley, and destined to disappear from his life. An overhead shot shows Robbie beginning to chase the coach along the street but quickly we dissolve into a still singing Robbie helping his Mum pack for their move from the flat they shared above a pub and now to Robbie watching the removal van taking their possessions to their new home as his Mum throws several black bags into a community rubbish bin. Quickly we see Robbie retrieve both his Dad’s singing jacket and comb from the rubbish before with a beep of a car horn he joins his Mum in the car with a reassuring, if heartbreaking, “Don’t worry Mum. We’ll be alright” to Robbie now standing on a box inside his new bedroom, still singing. “Light ’em up” he shouts and as he does so a spotlight finds both him and his Dad singing “Feel” together yet when he sings the lyrics “Come on hold my hand. I wanna contact the living” the spotlight fades to Robbie singing into his Dad’s comb and all alone. Repeating the lyric “Not sure I understand” over and over, the camera retreats from Robbie sitting alone in his new bedroom draping the arms of his Dad’s singing jacket over his shoulders as
“BETTER MAN”
is displayed in large bright lights in the centre of the screen.
So there you have the opening 13 minutes of Better Man and rest assured, there’s a stupendous 2 hour film to follow, cataloguing the cliched highs and lows of not only a soon to be world renowned pop star and entertainer but the fragile human being beneath screaming and crying out for acceptance yet still pushing away (nearly) everyone he loves in the process through fears of attachment and his own mental health struggles with depression and anxiety and his crippling addictions to alcohol and drugs. For it’s (nearly) all here, warts and all, from the self-described “stunted, unevolved and frozen” 15 year old kid making it big with his first audition and entry into the Take That world of first the gay clubs of the UK until their mainstream breakthrough to the adoring world of young teenage girls, the glitz of London and the world, to being a suicidally depressed 21 year old alcoholic with a cocaine addiction and cast to the winds as a hated outsider dumped from the biggest pop band in the world. The doomed romance with Nicole Appleton of All Saints is as prevalent as the public spats with the Gallagher brothers of Oasis fame (and his green eyed depressed envy of their success) through to his stratospheric solo success with songs such as Feel, Rock DJ, Come Undone, She’s The One, Angels and coming full circle at the end of the film with a poignant version of Forbidden Road as he casts out the demons of his past that have lurked on his shoulder throughout the film and one hopes, from his life forever. The highly recommended Netflix documentary from 2023 simply entitled “Robbie Williams” brings his story up to date post the ending of the film here and as of 2 years ago, the enfant terrible from Stoke-on-Trent is 15 years married to Ayda Field with 4 loving children and seemingly on top of the world.
Good on yer Rob!
Directed by Michael Gracey (The Greatest Showman) and nominated for one Oscar at this year’s Academy Awards for Best Visual Effects (the blending/editing of the visual effects with a dizzying array of CGI and of course a motion captured monkey are a true marvel of the film), this really is a fantastic film and warts and all telling of a life lived through a lens and the glare of publicity and of wanting fame and of telling (nearly) everyone within that life exactly what he thought of them! There may well be “legal reasons” why he can’t, but Robbie (or Robert) being the man he is, he still does! He reserves his ire for two men in particular who shall remain nameless here but if you know the history of either the man himself or the boyband that propelled him to the moon and back I’m sure you can guess whom he paints in the darkest of colours! Life in the fast lane I guess.
I always knew I’d love Better Man but then again, like Robbie, I’m still a stunted and angry teenager dreaming the dreams of dreamers that for Robbie came true but for me a lot less so. Absent fathers (mine permanently since 1986 and for reasons vastly different than Robbie’s) crippling depression and anxiety ridden suicidal thoughts, and whilst I’m in no way comparing lives or abilities or substance or alcohol abuse or physical, God given talent, I’m still that teenager to this day who whilst my own dreams of being a professional cricketer bit the dust many decades ago I continue to ache and dream for the recognition of being a writer, an author, and a teller of tall tales. I’ll continue chasing that dream as I wanna contact the living as I have too much life (and love) flowing through my veins, going to waste.
But my head speaks a language, I don’t understand.
Good on yer Robbie Williams, and I hope the second half of your life continues to treat you as well as humanly possible.
Thanks for reading. I hope this message in a bottle in The Matrix finds you well, prospering, and the right way up in an upside down world.
Whilst you’re here I may as well brag about the release of my trilogy of recently self-published books. Beautiful covers eh! As the title(s) would suggest, this is my life at the movies or at least from 1980 to 2024, and in volume 1 you’ll find 80 spoiler free appraisals of movies from debut filmmakers, 91 of the very best films appraised with love and absent of spoilers from 1990–2024 in volume 2, and in volume 3 you’ll find career “specials” on Paul Thomas Anderson and Quentin Tarantino together with the very best of the rest and another 87 spoiler free film reviews from 2001–2024.
All available in hardback and paperback and here are some handy links:
"A Life at the Movies Vol.1" - link to Amazon
"A Life at the Movies Vol.2" - link to Amazon
"A Life at the Movies Vol.3" - link to Amazon