One should never walk out of a shamelessly manipulative film full of sterling rock n roll muttering, "Well that was problematic."
As Bohemian Rhapsody reached its climax, I longed to burst into tears, to achieve the emotional catharsis that was so obviously intended. I tried. But I was too busy fuming, overwhelmed with anger, hurt and baffled puzzlement. And I am an easy mark for shamelessly manipulative films, I love musicals. As a gay man they are part of my DNA.
There are three simple reasons that Bohemian Rhapsody failed to grip and/or move me. Firstly, it is, as was feared, virulently homophobic. There are multiple cringeworthy moments. The young Freddie Mercury is cruised discreetly by two gay men and it is portrayed as a virtual assault. In the same tracking shot Mercury picks up Mary Austen (Lucy Boynton) by using a verbal assault and it is portrayed as charming. Mercury fights his desires and doesn't follow (or does he? The film is also pruriently coy as if gay sex is something unseemly) a trucker, Adam Lambert in a witty cameo, into a men's room.
There are speeches about "those people" and "fruit flies" feasting on dead flesh (the latter in a rain storm). Austen is the one who gently tells Mercury he is gay and it is a shock to him. The montage where Mercury descends into the hell of homosexuality through the use of leathermen imagery would be uproariously hilarious in the style of a wonky 1950's morality film, if it weren't presented as factual. And horrifying. Poor Paul Prenter practically twirls his moustache as an evil, predatory gay who lures Mercury into the homosexual lifestyle of drugs, leather, promiscuity, and of course, an inevitable death by AIDS.
Of course Mercury is supposedly saved by the love of a good man, Aaron McCusker as a bearish as opposed to in any way feminine or flamboyant version of Jim Hutton. Mercury and Hutton meet after a tame but supposedly shocking party, where Hutton was a waiter. Mercury is a stereotypical lonely gay man who Hutton offers to befriend instead of hopping into bed with. Mercury tracks him down, years later, and promptly takes him home to meet the parents (perhaps the screenwriter was thinking of stereotypical lesbian u-haul relationships) and then to Live Aid where Hutton gets the seal of approval from Austen.
And that leads to the second problem. Little of it happened that way. As a bio-pic of Freddie Mercury, Bohemian Rhapsody doesn't hesitate to distort the timeline, change facts and generally create a character instead of a portrait. Of course that is only a problem because Bohemian Rhapsody is marketed as being the Freddie Mercury story. Or is it? The official, and also highly problematic, 20th Century Fox press release says,
Bohemian Rhapsody is a foot-stomping celebration of Queen, their music and their extraordinary lead singer Freddie Mercury. Freddie defied stereotypes and shattered convention to become one of the most beloved entertainers on the planet. The film traces the meteoric rise of the band through their iconic songs and revolutionary sound. They reach unparalleled success, but in an unexpected turn Freddie, surrounded by darker influences, shuns Queen in pursuit of his solo career. Having suffered greatly without the collaboration of Queen, Freddie manages to reunite with his bandmates just in time for Live Aid. While bravely facing a recent AIDS diagnosis, Freddie leads the band in one of the greatest performances in the history of rock music. Queen cements a legacy that continues to inspire outsiders, dreamers and music lovers to this day.
A "celebration of Queen, their music and" . . . Freddie Mercury. Bohemian Rhapsody is a bio-pic about Queen except that, of course, Mercury is the most interesting part of Queen. Events are stacked in favour of the band. Mercury is portrayed as a genius but only because of the band. Mercury is slammed for his solo records ostensibly breaking up the band, but all of the members released solo records, it's just that Mercury's were the only successful ones. The band never actually broke up. Mercury never told the band about his "AIDS diagnosis" so that they could bravely forgive him. Live Aid was far from their last performance. Don't even get me started on the "darker influences" reference.
I am a Queen fan. But like most, I am foremost a Freddie Mercury fan. I had the good fortune to see the band live twice and it was the Freddie Mercury with Queen show (and he was mesmerizing, just extraordinary). I have blogged about two of the biographies I have read: roadie Peter Hince's Queen Unseen and Jim Hutton's Mercury and Me. I won't pretend to be an expert on Queen's history or inner workings but I know when I am being fed propaganda. And propaganda mixed with homophobia is even worse.
That is not to say that there aren't intriguing moments in Bohemian Rhapsody, though most of them are because of Queen's music as opposed to the film. The Live Aid finale is a brauva piece of filmmaking with performances, special effects, camera work and editing combining to create a dazzlingly realistic recreation. There are a few moments of stylized thematic filmmaking that stand out - an opening montage of preparing for a concert, the band's progression and success in America told through Mercury poses in flaming neon, the aforementioned leather bar extravaganza, a Mike Myers riff - and the rest is well shot, edited and acted.
Queen and Mercury were known for their technically advanced videos so the visual flair moments stand out. One can't help but wonder if Bryan Singer, who was fired from the production and lost the final edit, who usually - American Gods being a prime example - exhibits a mise en scene that is eye-popping but integrated, had more planned. Of course Singer is also the architect behind the X-Men franchise which is a thinly disguised examination of the gay experience under persecution, so it is hard to imagine that he would have allowed the homophobia that exists in Bohemian Rhapsody to reach the screen. Unless he speaks up, or we get a director's cut, we'll never know.
And that brings us to the third and most fatal mistake. Rami Malek is very good as Freddie Mercury. The teeth and twitchiness are somewhat distracting, but he is sincere, suitably fey and witty/bitchy, and has expressive eyes that are powerfully communicative. He also captures much of Mercury's physicality in an uncanny way. It is whoever was in charge of continuity that lets Malek down. What is going on with his chest hair? Mercury used his masculinity as a counterpoint to his flamboyance and his chest hair peeking out of androgynous costuming was a crucial element, as it was for the hirsute butch clone look he adopted later on. Malek's chest hair comes and goes and it is distracting and definitive proof that Mercury is being subordinated to the rest of Queen's revisionist egos.
The music is still powerful but any of the many Queen or Freddie Mercury DVD compilations will give a better and more astounding experience. I had the good fortune to attend a screening of Hungarian Rhapsody: Queen Live in Budapest and, on a big screen, it made Bohemian Rhapsody seem like a pale imitation of the real thing. But Bohemian Rhapsody is a big hit. The mainstream loves Queen's music and to prove they are liberal and hip by crying over fags dying of AIDS. In a better world Bohemian Rhapsody would become a camp hit as beloved, entertaining and historically accurate as Mommie Dearest, 54, Lizstomania and Showgirls.
Freddie is either laughing uproariously in heaven or flouncing in his grave.
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