The amazing songs. The gaudy outfits. Mommy and daddy issues. Progressive sexuality in a conservative world. Elton John epitomized what is was to live the life of a music star. Rocketman comes damn close to putting you into the Bitch’s shoes, following the traditional musical biopic trajectory in a fresh, fun way.
Even at a young age, grandma Ivy (Gemma Jones) knew young Reginald Dwight (ie Elton John, eventually Taron Edgerton) was musically something special. Mom (Bryce Dallas Howard) and Dad (Steven Mackintosh)? Too busy in their own worlds to care. After “Nan” puts Reginald through music classes and he does some background jobs, Reg hooks up with Bernie Taupin (Jamie Bell) as musical partners: Bernie writes, Reg “does the rest.” The pair are overnight sensations after playing the Troubador in Los Angeles, where Reg, now Elton, romantically hooks up with John Reid (Richard Madden). Reid starts producing Elton’s albums, pushing the Rocketman into the stratosphere…along with enough drugs, sex, and booze to kill an army battalion.
The biggest thing a movie about a musician can do is capture the essence of the person who is performing. Rocketman does that in a really clever way. The movie is framed through Elton regailing his life story in a rehab facility: ergo, Rocketman is filtered entirely in Elton John’s head. That means the thing in musicals, where people stop the story and start singing for the sake of singing (like Aladdin, most recently), brings the movie alive instead of grinding the story to a halt. Elton John has dozens of great hits to bring to life, and the more fantastical, the more alive Rocketman becomes. This means his big Troubador appearance, where he sings “Crocodile Rock” in the movie, literally LIFTS him into the sky, and like the fans at the Troubador, the movie audience is infatuated. Even drug montages use Elton’s songs and bounce around to the point where John has no idea what city he’s in or who he’s sleeping next to.
Ironically, Elton John’s story outside of the music grinds Rocketman to a halt, because of how ordinary it is for a musician. Reginald Dwight’s story checks all the boxes you would want for a biopic as listed in the first paragraph, and the movie spends what it sees as a proper amount of time letting us live a little in Elton’s non musical skin. Occasionally these boxes are fresh and interesting, like the way Elton John’s sexuality is explored, including the first big studio backed gay sex scene. But most everything else has been seen or done before. Parental issues? Get On Up. Drug and partying excess? Bohemian Rhapsody. Struggles with friends/creative forces? Straight Outta Compton. What separates Rocketman are when the story and singing merge, which thankfully is more often than not.
But it’s hard not laugh, cry, and mostly have fun with Rocketman. Though Elton John’s story is your run of the mill musician arc, the route we take and especially the songs we sing to get there, will have you singing along with Taron Edgerton with just as big a smile on your face. I just wish the story went a little futher; sorry Lion King fans: none of his work on that soundtrack is in here. You’ll have to wait for Beyonce to get that done later this summer…