Bohemian Rhapsody review: The Queen biopic WILL rock you but is that enough?

“There is only room in this band for one hysterical queen…”

And there was only ever one Freddie Mercury.

Mercurial by name, no film could ever capture this unique, quixotic, challenging, infuriating and incomparably magnificent man on a two dimensional screen, but Malek’s tour de force turn explodes out into the audience and for brief, wonderful moments makes it seem like Freddie is back with us. 

I actually jolted in my seat a couple of times when I remembered I was not actually watching the much-missed star, himself. Gwilym Lee also impresses as the driest of Bryan Mays, with entertaining turns from Mike Myers (and a cheeky meta nod to that Wayne’s World moment), Aidan Gillen and Tom Hollander.

But the story is all about Freddie and this film is all about Malek. The Mr Robot star doesn’t just have the look, he has captured every nuanced sneer and strut, the trademark drawl, the showmanship, the the sweet boy who wanted to be loved and the bitchy queen who would not compromise for anyone. It is a remarkable creation and as close as any of us are ever going to come to Freddie in our lifetimes.

As for the film, itself, it really depends what you want from it. Many critics and commentators are already dismissing it as overly sentimental, rose-tinted and revisionist, a greatest hits package of highs and lows with a neatly packaged drama, some tears and a happy (for now) ending.  

Well, what’s wrong with that?

Despite early reports, the film does not avoid the issue of his sexuality, nor the devastation of his AIDS diagnosis. But the filmmakers were clear from the early days of planning this labour of love ten years ago, that this would be a family film and a celebration. This was cited as the reason for Sacha Baron Cohen’s exit as the original Freddie. He wanted a tougher, more challenging adult movie. That movie also deserves to be made but it was never what Bohemian Rhaspsody was going to be.

Yes, Freddie died in terrible circumstances, brought low and destroyed by AIDS in 1991. He was clearly a difficult man to be around and even to love sometimes. But this film is about what he created, about how he made himself a star, touched millions of lives and, with three other talented musicians and songwriters, wrote and performed some of the greatest popular music of the last century.

Even though he is the centre of the movie, almost never off screen and the only member of the band who we see on their own, this is not his direct story. It is the story of how he affected those around him.

This is Freddie as remembered by Roger Taylor and Brian May (John Deacon remains the absent figure both in the real world and throughout much of the film) who only exist on screen in scenes with Freddie.

The movie is a memory of Freddie. It may not be the movie he himself might have made – vain, fragile, self-destructive and glorious creature that he was – but it is a tribute that reflects the love of those around him, rather than a gritty, warts and all work of art.

His story is so well known, but there are still surprises seeing how much the band bickered and how badly they made him grovel to come back after he left them for a huge solo deal.

Many people, fans and otherwise, may also be confused to see just how important Mary Austin (a radiant Lucy Boynton) was throughout his life, or just how badly his personal manager Paul Prenter (Downton Abbey’s Allen Leech) betrayed him. 

Yes, Freddie was gay, but Mary was the “Love Of My Life,” immortalised forever in that song. He proposed to her and regarded her as his common-law wife throughout his life. She told him he was gay when he suggested he was bisexual. She remained by his side until the end and received half his £75million estate on his death, including his beloved Kensington mansion.

Rather like the most iconic of Queen anthems itself, this movie is a little fanciful, a little fierce. It has moments of drama and moments of sweetness. There is pain and pathos but there is also exhuberent joy.

The film ends with an extended recreation of that magical moment when Queen was reborn on stage at Live Aid in 1985. In the film, Freddie has just been diagnosed and told the band “I’ve got it.” In reality, he was reported to have had blood tests in 1986 and a positive test result in 1987.

Either way, on screen and in reality he then went out and showed 1.5 billion television viewers what a true superstar looked like. That is the story this film tells and it tells it well.

The tears I shed in the cinema were for the glorious exhilaration of it all. Freddie shed his tears in private for his own demons and unimaginable pain – and perhaps that is the way it should stay.

BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY IS OUT NOW