There have been claims that Rocketman, the biopic of Elton John, is ‘cheesy’ and ‘clichéd’, but, in truth, you do want these films to be a bit cheesy and clichéd. (In Bohemian Rhapsody if a record executive had never cried: ‘Nobody wants to listen to a six-minute opera song with words like “Galileo” in it!’ I’d have walked away in a huff.) So I’m fine with that — would you want a musical biopic without a montage of concert dates and newspaper headlines whirling past? — plus this is more than just that, as it’s also a fun, visually dazzling, extravagantly camp romp. And while the script is, generally, platitudinous, it still has its moments. ‘I started acting like a cunt in 1975,’ says Elton at one point. ‘And just forgot to stop.’
The film is directed by Dexter Fletcher (who took over Bohemian Rhapsody after Bryan Singer was fired), scripted by Lee Hall (Billy Elliot) and stars Taron Egerton, who is sublime. He captures the Elton-ness of Elton without ever resorting to mimicry, and he does his own singing which, astonishingly, also captures the Elton-ness of Elton. The film opens in the 1980s with Elton in rehab undergoing group therapy. You can tell which one is Elton as he is attired in a flame-orange bodysuit and wings and devil horns and massive platforms and glittery heart-shaped sunglasses. He confesses to being an alcoholic. And a cocaine addict. And a bulimic. And a shopaholic. ‘What was your childhood like?’ asks the therapist, helpfully.
So we spool back to Pinner in the 1950s and dive into the first of several big musical production numbers. (It is quite Mamma Mia-ish in this respect.) Here, we have little Reginald Dwight dancing round his neighbourhood singing ‘The Bitch is Back’.
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