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desire that our hypercurated Spot ify
lists can’t reach. (Bohemian Rhapsody
was partially directed by Fletcher, who
stepped in after Bryan Singer was fired
from the production.) Both Bohemian
Rhapsody and Rocketman are set largely
in the 1970s, which, to people who
weren’t alive at the time, may seem
like some lost, dazzling world. They’re
right: it was dazzling, a time of freedom
and exploration that began with the
advent of the sexual revolution and
ended when AIDS descended. Even if
you were too young to have sex during
the ’70s, just listening to the radio was
John with awesome: the artists you heard were
Taupin in 1969; often flamboyant, blurring the line
and in 2019, between masculine and feminine, and
performing on leading us to wonder how much the line
his farewell tour mattered in the first place. By the early
’70s, young people were already tired
of their hippie predecessors, jawing on
about how much acid they dropped.
Rocket man is both a fantasy and a ren- Through it all, Egerton’s Elton pre- In the ’70s, electricity of all kinds was
dering of a real human being who has vails, almost like the heroine of a ’50s welcome, in the form of satin bomber
seen his share of suffering: though the Douglas Sirk melodrama: he falls des- jackets or glittery bell- bottoms or
movie is largely celebratory, there’s a perately in and out of love; he buys makeup on the faces of girls and boys.
forceful strain of melancholy running rhinestone- bedazzled sunglasses and No wonder the Freddie Mercury of
through it. The opening number, a vi- out-of-this-world suits; he flounces Bohemian Rhapsody and the Elton John
brant song and dance that takes place in around his lavish digs in Versace ki- of Rocketman are the men of the mo-
a semi hallucinatory version of mid-’50s monos. As a young shooting star, he ment, the people we want to hear from
London—set to the proclamatory “The plays the Troubadour in now. Both were masters
Bitch Is Back”—shows a young, willful Los Angeles—he levi- ‘Even if the of self- invention who cel-
Elton (played at this point by Matthew tates at the piano, and the movie doesn’t ebrated love and pleasure
Illesley) punching the air, a piano prod- audience levitates with even when masking their
igy ready to conquer the world. Later, him, their platform shoes make one own heartbreak. The ques-
though, we see him buckling under hovering above the floor penny ... it’s the tion asked, and answered,
the disapproval and indifference of his like shiny magic horses’ movie I wanted by Rocketman isn’t “Why
parents (Steven Mackintosh and Bryce hooves. But success hurts to make.’ should we care about Elton
Dallas Howard). Their lack of affection too: he’ll later attempt John?” but “Why wouldn’t
ELTON JOHN,
for him sets the jagged course of his suicide by getting messed introducing Rocketman at we want just a bit of his
life. At one point his mother bestows a up on pills and booze its Cannes Film Festival lightning right now?”
wicked-witch curse upon him, telling and diving into his pool. premiere Technology has made
him that he’ll never find anyone who’ll Fletcher turns the sui- our lives easier, but the
truly love him. cide attempt into an underwater fan- trade-off is that it now rules our lives.
That may be a supersimplistic re- tasia, complete with a hallucination of Work and play are merged in unholy
duction of real human problems, but tiny Elton the child prodigy, seated at a ways. The man in the gray flannel suit,
in the context of the movie’s vivid styl- mini–grand piano at the pool’s bottom. working hard for the life he wants,
ization, it’s perfectly workable. Rocket Egerton does his own singing in Rocket hasn’t disappeared; he’s now the man—
man shows us an Elton John searching man, and he’s affecting and effective: or woman—in the gray felt Allbirds,
for love and rarely finding it: the movie the performance is impersonation as putting in long hours to pay off student
outlines an early, unrequited love for tribute, and it’s filled with tenderness. loans. And here comes a movie with
his longtime lyricist, Bernie Taupin Elton John in a feathered suit, a fabu-
(played, wonderfully, by Jamie Bell). this film’s rapturous reception at lous and rare songbird at the piano, pre-
senting us with a vision of romance and
Cannes, coupled with the surprise
And it plumbs the depths of John’s pas-
GET T Y IMAGES (2) sionate fixation on his onetime manager worldwide embrace of last year’s vitality and wild, polychrome beauty.
This, too, can be your song. And you can
John Reid (a deviously sexy Richard
Bohemian Rhapsody, suggests that rock
tell everybody.
Madden), who used him as a cash cow.
biopics might be satisfying some secret
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