Bohemian Rhapsody

Director: Bryan Singer
Starring: Rami Malek, Lucy Boynton, Gwilym Lee, Ben Hardy, Joe Mazzello, Allen Leech, Aiden Gillan, Tom Hollander, Mike Myers, Aaron McCusker
Running Time: 134 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Some music artists simply transcend the band with which they were a part, to the point that you even have a tough time even recalling the other members' names, regardless of their enormous contributions. There may be no better example of this in all of rock than Freddie Mercury and Queen. We could talk all day about how Bryan Singer's Bohemian Rhapsody is really a story about the band and that Brian May, Roger Taylor and John Deacon spent years behind the scenes making sure that  would shine through on screen. But make no mistake about it. The film was always only going to be about one man: Freddie Mercury. Queen IS Freddie Mercury. Freddie Mercury IS Queen.

Despite taking great pains to specifically detail and show what each member brought to the table, even going so far as to imply he couldn't musically survive without them, Mercury's shadow will always engulf them. As it should. There's something to be said for giving the fans what they want. Freddie always did, and now he's at the center of a film that does just the same, helping to explain how audiences worldwide have embraced what's been categorized by critics as a by-the-numbers music biopic. And to an extent, that's true.

Controlling parents, egomaniacal genius, failed marriage, self-loathing, band break-up, sex, drugs, record label disputes. It checks all the boxes. Even Mercury's audacity and eccentricity both on and off stage are qualities we've come to recognize in our rock stars. But before Freddie they weren't, and what the film really excels at (and hasn't gotten enough credit for) is in reflecting that breakthrough. And the turmoil brewing inside of a man who just wanted to perform, while still struggling to figure out exactly who he is. The cultural timing also feels right because Queen might just be one of the few classic rock bands that could still be considered underappreciated. It's not a coincidence that among a dream lineup of legendary artists that played 1985's epic Live Aid benefit concert, it's their performance rather than The Who's, The Stones', Bowie's or U2's that's most remembered today. More accurately, it's Mercury's.

The film wisely opens by teasing that concert and closes by taking us there, recreating a watershed cultural moment with chill-inducing emotional and historical accuracy. While many thrills come in seeing Queen get their due, Rami Malek's performance deserves more credit than the actual picture, which is fittingly only following his lead. At first, you're not sure what to make of it, until he submerges himself deeper and deeper, to the point that it becomes frightening just how much of a disappearing act it is. There's no trace of the performer left, leaving us to contemplate what it could have been like to experience Freddie Mercury as a person and performer, along with all the complications and contradictions that entail, not to mention the theatricality.  He's such a fascinating figure that the film can afford to just simply do its job and call it a day. 

It's 1970 when college student and airport baggage handler Farrokh "Freddie" Bulsara (Malek) goes to a London pub to see the band, Smile. Upon learning their lead singer just quit, Freddie, who's been writing his own songs, offers himself up as a replacement to guitarist Brian May (Gwilym Lee) and drummer Roger Taylor (Ben Hardy). At the show, he also meets a young woman named Mary Austin (Lucy Boynton), whom he begins to date and eventually marries. After taking Freddie on as their lead singer and adding John Deacon (Joe Mazzello) as bass guitarist, the band is rechristened "Queen," with  Bulsara legally adopting the name "Freddie Mercury."

Touring across Britain and selling out smaller venues everywhere, the band soon attracts the attention of famed music manager John Reid (Aiden Gillan). With a record deal and a hit album, they tour the U.S. and only grow bigger from there. But Freddie keeps wanting more, as he internally comes to grips with his own sexuality and takes bad advice from manager and self-serving hanger-on Paul Prenter (Allen Leech). With Queen in shambles due to his selfishness, Freddie heads down a path of personal and professional ruin by the late 70's. But before he can vanquish his own demons, he'll need to make amends with his own past, as well as the only family he's ever known.

Feeling most like a standard musical biopic in its detailing of Queen's formative years as an act, criticism has swirled aroubd the fact that dates and chronology were altered to fit the needs of the narrative, condensing key events in Mercury and the band's timeline. It's kind of surprising it's become an issue when far less accomplished biopics are routinely guilty of the same offense, if you can call it that. This isn't a documentary and unless the changes were due to some unintentional oversight (unlikely given Queen's direct involvement), they should only be judged in context of whether it detracts from the story. In this case, it doesn't at all. That these alterations have caused an uproar is more of a testament to how the media enjoys tearing down biopics and showing off their knowledge that that's not "exactly" how it happened.

It's easy to see how a strict, inflexible adherence to every facet of Freddie Mercury's life could easily do more harm than good, stifling the momentum of the narrative and removing any shred of unpredictability. Plus, wouldn't those nitpicking about historical accuracy then only shift their complaints to how safely the movie played it by sticking straight to the facts, in the exact order they happened? And besides, doing that would deprive us of the the film's most memorable scene. 

The scene in question comes when Queen and their lawyer Jim "Miami" Beach (Tom Hollander) are unsuccessfully pitching the six-minute "Bohemian Rhapsody" as the first single for their forthcoming "A Night at the Opera" album to doubting EMI executive Ray Foster (an unrecognizably great Mike Myers). We'll never know whether the events in that room played out exactly as they're depicted, but it's the kind of scene you can easily imagine did given what we know about the 70's music scene and that song, then years away from being appreciated as the group's magnum opus.

So to hear how unmarketable and inaccessible the song is it is out of the mouth of the actor partially responsible for introducing it to a new generation in the 90's, not only makes for an unforgettable meta moment. More surreal than seeing the blistering reviews scroll down the screen are the preceding scenes of them recording the song, which comes as a flicker in Mercury's mind that he makes his bandmates harness. In fact, most of the film consists of them trying to keep up with his energy and creativity.

Malek's performance couldn't exactly be considered a slow burn since everything in this picture moves at such a rapid pace, but his full immersion into the role does kind of sneak up on you. Concealing his Indian heritage and sparring with his demanding father, Freddie escapes from himself through music. And with it, realizes who he truly wants to be, evolving from an introspective lanky kid uncomfortable in his own skin to a wild showman discovering his true outlet onstage. It's here where he feels most at home, and it's when that rock star persona overtakes his life that Malek's embodiment of Mercury kicks into high gear.

Taking over a role originally intended for Sacha Baron Cohen (who exited early due to creative differences), much as been made of the fake teeth, the mannerisms, gestures and voice Malek invokes to physically transform himself. And he does, baring more than just a mere passing resemblance to the late singer. But it's when Freddie flies off the rails with drugs and debauchery in the last third of the film that you realize how much further the actor's gone than just physically channeling him.

The celebrity of "Freddie Mercury" soon infests his inner circle, allowing him to let indulgence and excess get in the way of what matters most. His marriage may have been doomed from the start, but the difference here is that the relationship with Mary doesn't end so much as radically change, creating a fairly unusual situation, as the two remain friends while Freddie wrestles and eventually comes to terms with his sexuality. And, of course, the eventual AIDS diagnosis that the screenplay and Malek handle just right, avoiding disease of the week movie tropes. 

It's true that the other members of Queen are supporting players who probably don't register as strongly as they should. Of them, Gwilym Lee accomplishes the most as Brian May, but even that's stretching it, as this was never going to be about any one of them individually. Nor should it be. What it does convey well is what they collectively contributed and Freddie's ultimate legacy, perfectly encapsulated by Malek in the film's thrilling final 40 minutes, taking you as close as possible to their 1985 Live Aid performance without literally being there. It's frighteningly accurate.

A Queen movie was always going to be a tightrope walk. That we've somehow gotten a PG-13 version that not only feels uncompromised, but does justice to Mercury and the band's significance feels like a miracle given all the problems that befell this production. We're still not even sure who to credit for directing it. Far from perfect, events and timelines are altered, liberties taken and dates changed. On the surface, there doesn't even seem to be much too it. And yet, Bohemian Rhapsody is still so ridiculously entertaining because it deeply understands what Queen and Freddie Mercury left us and the only thing that really matters: the music. 

Hanna

Director: Joe Wright
Starring: Saoirse Ronan, Cate Blanchett, Eric Bana, Tom Hollander, Olivia Williams, Jason Flemyng, Jessica Barden
Running Time: 123 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

For as many story plots get recycled and movies remade it's at least reassuring to know there's still new and surprising ways acting performances can blow you away. The one given by Saoirse Ronan as a 16-year-old assassin in Hanna is proof of that. It's one thing for an actress her age to summon up enough poise, confidence and physical presence to believably portray a trained killing machine but what stuck out most for me out when it ended were all the other scenes where she's also called upon to play a scared, awkward teen. Comparisons have already been made to last year's Kick-Ass, which featured Chloe Moretz as a tween aged, foul-mouthed superhero killer named Hit-Girl but that character was was more satirical in nature. Director Joe Wright is deadly serious here, and takes a huge gamble in the process. But when it ended I was left with the feeling I had witnessed more than your routine action thriller, even if no one could be blamed for thinking that when evaluating the plot on paper.  Half action movie, half beautifully twisted fairy tale, it's not for everyone and will probably put off as many as it thrills, but it's still difficult to claim you've seen anything exactly like it.

Raised and trained in the woods of Finland by her father, ex-CIA agent Erik (Eric Bana), 16 year-old Hanna Heller (Ronan) is ready to go out on her own. With just the flick of a switch, a transmitter alerts the government to their location, setting their plan into motion for Erik to escape and Hanna to eventually meet up with her dad following a trek through Germany. Getting in the way of that reunion and leading the charge in their capture is the calculating Marissa Zeigler (Cate Blanchett) an obsessive CIA operative with a personal connection to the case who clearly wants Erik taken dead, but also harbors a strange fascination with the girl. Moving at a deliberate pace that effectively builds tension and suspense, Hanna's journey at times more closely resembles a road trip than a manhunt as she falls in with a married couple (Olivia Williams and Jason Flemyng) on vacation and forms a friendship with their teenage daughter (Jessica Barden) but Marissa's always lurking in the shadows, as is her flamboyantly sadistic henchman Isaacs (Tom Hollander). Trained to kill but emotionally unprepared for the real world around her, Hanna must evade capture long enough to reunite with her papa in Berlin.

While the plot  may seem bare bones on the surface, but that's to its credit as the discoveries come in the details. Beyond the exciting action, this is really coming-of-age character study interested in exploring the psychological implications of an isolated child suddenly thrust into the real world without a life raft. Trained only to kill and protect herself, the most memorable sequences occur when Hanna's confronted with everyday life. This is a girl who can shoot someone in cold blood, but is scared to death of an electric kettle, giddily jumps up and down at the sight of an airplane, and has no idea how to work a remote control. She's been taught multiple languages and history by her father and is given a rehearsed back story to tell strangers, but there's no substitute for actual experience, which is why her journey is so scary. So far ahead of any child her age in terms of physical capability and intelligence, what stands out is how far behind she is emotionally. Because the script is so deeply interested in getting into the protagonist's head space it becomes more than your standard action outing, which could turn off some viewers expecting only chases and kills (not to say there isn't plenty).  There's an artistry at work that we're not used to seeing in a mainstream thriller in terms of the editing, performances, visuals and most memorably, an adrenaline fueled, pulse pounding score from the Chemical Brothers that couldn't possibly provide a better backdrop for many of the brilliantly choreographed action sequences.

Ronan's performance is flat-out unbelievable for precisely how impressively she handles Hanna's duality, shifting from scared little girl to trained assassin and back again at seemingly the drop of a hat. The underrated Eric Bana's greatest asset as Erik is his ability to invisibly slide into the fatherly role and not mind being upstaged by his younger co-star. As their nemesis, Cate Blanchett looks to be having the time of her life hamming it up as the "wicked witch" hunting the little girl, giving the kind of villainous performance that isn't too far removed from her work in Indiana Jones and The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull a few years ago (albeit this time in a quality film). Even while struggling a bit with what I think is supposed to be a southern accent, she makes Marissa Zeigler a cold, calculating perfectionist and I loved the small details that were put in to show that, like her obsessive dental hygiene and sterile apartment. She's a villain with an edge in a movie that not only feels edgy but also more "R" than "PG-13." Part of that could just have to do with the subject matter, though more of it probably has to do with presentation, visual style and tone.

There's one brief, but masterful performance that hijacks the movie and turns it into something darker and meaner. As Marissa's right hand man Isaacs, Tom Hollander almost seems to be channeling A Clockwork Orange's Alex if he were creepily reimagined as an effeminate tennis tracksuit wearing owner of a transvestite disco club. And how many villains have ever get their own catchy theme song, much less one so catchy even they whistle it? Hollander's total screen time probably doesn't even exceed 5 minutes but he makes each one of them terrifying, leaving the kind of indelible mark that deserves to be remembered come awards time.

If there's one small mistake hampering the script it's in revealing a key piece of information about Hanna that would have been better left unrevealed. One of the story's biggest strengths right from the gripping opening sequence was it's realism so there's disappointment in having a plot device introduced that's more common in a superhero or sci-fi movie, which this strives to be much more than. There's a thrill in believing for 2 hours that a young girl could be trained from an early age to do this stuff so providing a scientific explanation robs that notion of some of its mystique. If it's okay with the filmmakers I'll just pretend they never went there since that slight slip-up hardly hampers the enjoyment of the whole experience, especially with when you have an ending that not only makes ingenious use of an unconventional setting, but provides real closure. You can almost hear the book closing shut on the movie, concluding almost exactly as it began. But the best thing about Hanna is how it never seems to be wimping out in any way, taking risks while challenging the audience to appreciate details that push it out of the comfort zone we've come to expect from most mainstream action thrillers.