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Robbie Williams Biopic Better Man Explores Fame Through a CGI Chimp

The new biopic Better Man takes an unconventional approach to telling the tumultuous story of UK pop star Robbie Williams, depicting the singer as a CGI chimpanzee. Directed by Michael Gracey, known for The Greatest Showman, the film offers an intense exploration of fame’s psychological toll, blending surrealism with raw emotion.

Fame, with its intoxicating allure and destructive pressures, has long been a subject in music and film, but Better Man offers a unique perspective. The film’s choice to animate Williams as an ape (voiced by Jonno Davies through motion capture) symbolizes the dehumanizing nature of celebrity. Williams himself explained that being in the industry often feels like becoming a robot or a monkey, which is why he chose this form for his filmic counterpart.

The movie begins with Williams’s childhood, portrayed with a mix of innocence and aspiration. We see the young “Robert” dreaming of stardom, sharing intimate moments with his family. As he rises to fame, first with the boy band Take That, the film showcases the highs of pop stardom, including energetic performances and chart-topping hits. However, it quickly shifts to the darker side of fame, as Williams grapples with self-doubt, addiction, and depression, culminating in his departure from the band.

Better Man is more than just a musical retelling of Williams’s life. It reinterprets his songs in a fresh context. Songs like “Feel” and “Come Undone” are woven into the narrative, reflecting his internal struggles rather than merely acting as nostalgic crowd-pleasers. The film doesn’t take the easy route of a typical jukebox musical, instead, it offers a deep dive into the emotional cost of fame.

One of the most intriguing elements is how the film’s surreal aesthetic – especially the CGI chimp – amplifies the bizarre nature of the music industry. Williams’s battles with self-criticism and his public persona are depicted through a grotesque yet sympathetic filter, making his flaws feel both universal and uniquely his. As a result, the film balances the absurdity of stardom with the painful truths of mental health and self-doubt.

As a piece of pop culture history, Better Man also acts as a snapshot of the ‘90s music industry, a time when fame was at its peak and artists like Williams were subjected to immense pressure. Through interviews and behind-the-scenes insights, the film explores the manipulation and commercialization of pop stars, painting a picture of a system that exploits young performers.

The film doesn’t just focus on Williams’s story. It serves as a reflection on the broader experience of pop stars, particularly those who were part of the boy band phenomenon. The pressure to maintain a public image, the emotional toll of being in the spotlight, and the struggles with identity and addiction are all examined in depth.

Ultimately, Better Man is a narrative of redemption. Despite the film’s dark moments, it ends on a hopeful note, acknowledging Williams’s personal growth while hinting at the ongoing journey of his career. By the end, viewers are left with a sense of the complexity of celebrity: the excruciating vulnerability and the exhilarating highs that come with it.

 

What Looking Like Timothée Chalamet Taught Me About Fame

The Start of a Unique Journey

It was an early, sleep-deprived morning. By 2 a.m., I was on the road, and by evening, I was in Manhattan. With my girlfriend as my support and secret-keeper, I was about to enter the uncharted territory of a Timothée Chalamet lookalike contest. It was a quirky, unplanned opportunity that popped up online a few weeks prior, and it seemed too fun to pass up. The low-cost trip from upstate New York was manageable, and as someone studying graphics and multimedia marketing at SUNY Canton, I also saw it as a potential stepping stone toward networking in the creative world of New York City.

The Chalamet Comparison

When I let my hair grow out, people began to make the “Timothée” connection. Friends and strangers alike teased me about it, likening me to characters from “Dune” and “Wonka.” The comparison even led to an odd moment at a mall in Toronto, where employees at a “Wonka” pop-up display insisted I pose for photos, fully outfitted in character attire. That’s when the surreal aspect of resemblance began to sink in.

Arrival at the Contest

When I arrived at Washington Square Park, it was chaos. People swarmed the area, with phones raised, recording, snapping, and even asking for interviews. A sea of curious onlookers turned my first contest into a surreal three-hour experience. I saw the real Chalamet make a brief appearance, further electrifying the crowd. But I also saw the intensity of fame, even on this small scale, as officers dispersed crowds, even taking some lookalikes into custody for not adhering to the contest’s unpermitted status.

Learning Through Fame’s Lens

For those three hours, I got a taste of what real fame must be like: the invasive stares, the fascination, and the overwhelming attention. Although I planned my outfit carefully, opting for a sleek, casual look that mirrored Chalamet’s Chanel perfume campaign, the thrill was quickly balanced by a sobering realization. The winner, dressed as Willy Wonka and handing out chocolates, deservedly took the trophy, but I felt the reward wasn’t as important as the experience itself.

The Takeaway

As I returned to reality — eating tacos with my girlfriend and preparing for another week at the fishing store — I felt grateful. While the experience was exciting, the ability to step away from the glare of attention and return to a regular life was a privilege. Fame may offer allure, but it also exacts a cost. For me, being Timothée Chalamet for a day was fun, but I’m glad to be myself in the end.