The familiar formula of the music biopic

In recent years, notably following the 2015 release of F. Gary Gray’s, ‘Straight Outta Compton’, we have seen audience’s hearts, (and wallets), seized by the rise to prominence of a new sub-genre in film, the music biopic. The formula for such a movie seems perfectly calibrated in order to win over audiences. take a widely loved musical figure, show their ups and downs, and end with a barnstorming musical number that leaves the audience overcome with the power of the nostalgia on screen.

The musical biopic has slipped smoothly into the stream of formulaic, sanitised, big-budget movies, that lack the soul and flair of the artists that they depict.

Such a formula is notably a vehicle for stellar performances, obvious examples including, Rami Malek in Bohemian Rhapsody, the widely overlooked Taron Edgerton in Rocketman and most recently, Renee Zellweger in Judy, who recently won the Oscar for best leading Actress. Sadly though, as someone who has little emotional attachment to any of the artists portrayed, or who will be portrayed, in this recent surge of films that turn the camera to the tales of some of the most widely adored musicians of all time, such movies often leave me questioning the morality of their construction, which leads me concerned for the slew of upcoming films in a similar vein.

This new genre of film is one which has seen devastating success, yet it is one which arguably does not bode well for the film industry. The musical biopic has slipped smoothly into the stream of formulaic, sanitised, big-budget movies, that lack the soul and flair of the artists that they depict. Instead, they choose to exploit the powerful connections that audiences have formed with certain musicians, as a way of securing financial viability for films.

The films function in pursuit of financial security, often operating to an extraordinary degree technically within this framework, but ultimately in a manner which I would argue is devoid of the creative spark.

I do not mean to label the aforementioned films as ‘bad’, I think they all have areas in which they are strong and I would even say that I found Rocketman to be a powerfully engaging picture, which did serve to distinguish itself from other biopics despite glossing over some of the most compelling issues it presented. No, it is not the films themselves which concern me, it is the shameless distillation of the image, and distillation of complex, often damaged human beings, into a clean narrative arc that can then be pumped out to rapturous applause. Such films cut and polish the lives of real people, regardless of how famous they may be, to produce a sellable package. I would call Rocketman an exception to this to some degree, but broadly I think there is a trend in this direction.

In this sense, it seems that the music biopic is becoming similar to the superhero franchises and endless sequels and reinventions of old properties that now serve to dominate at the box office, regardless of their uniqueness or what they ‘have to say’. They function in pursuit of financial security, often operating to an extraordinary degree technically within this framework, but ultimately in a manner which I would argue is devoid of the creative spark that makes cinema as interesting and truly powerful as it can be.

These are some of the most creative, influential, and important figures in music history, and thus I pray that these films are as creative and intriguing as pieces of cinema that stand on their own.

It is concerning that such biopics may operate as another way for studios to squeeze out original stories in place of a ‘safer bet’, which relies on established figures in pop culture. This does not serve to demonstrate that music-oriented pictures, in general, should ‘stay dead’, as it were. Most notably, Damian Chazelle in real years has shown that this need not be the case, to extraordinary result, critically and financially. Whiplash, for example, is a film which at this stage has had its praises sung to death, yet the triumphantly twisted musical sequence at the end of that film is truly deserved, for it serves as the conclusion of a carefully crafted character arc. Bohemian Rhapsody, however, concludes with the technically stunning ‘Live Aid’ recreation. Whilst I did find this sequence moving upon my first experience of it, I question its deservedness, I would, in fact, put the films emotional, and financial pull (with a roughly $900 million gross) down to Queen, not the filmmaking.

This leaves me particularly concerned, given the upcoming music biopics that we can expect, looking at David Bowie, Bob Dylan, and Aretha Franklin, to name just a few. These are some of the most creative, influential, and important figures in music history, and thus I pray that these films are as creative and intriguing as pieces of cinema that stand on their own, as the artists themselves did. Let them not rely on the cheap emotional manipulation that a rousing performance of a powerful song can provide.