by Vincent Hooper

Robbie Williams kicked off 2025 with a headline performance at ABC’s New Year’s Eve Party outside the Sydney Opera House. The 50-year-old singer performed his biggest hits and used the opportunity to promote his new biopic Better Man.

In a world saturated with formulaic biopics, Better Man, the unconventional portrayal of Robbie Williams, stands out as a cinematic dare. More than just a chronicle of the pop star’s life, it becomes a philosophical inquiry into self-worth, vulnerability, and the often unglamorous journey toward personal growth. Its audacious use of CGI — a choice that morphs Williams into a chimpanzee — might initially provoke bemusement, but it soon reveals itself as the lynchpin of a deeply resonant moral narrative.

A Performer’s Reflection

The image of a chimpanzee, a “performing monkey”, serves as both caricature and catharsis. It is a raw, self-deprecating lens through which Williams viewed his life as a celebrity. This metaphor of a caged performer is a reflection of how society packages its entertainers — expecting endless tricks while denying them humanity. But this isn’t just about celebrities. In an age of social media, where everyone curates their lives for likes, Better Man holds up a mirror to us all. How often do we feel compelled to perform, to play a role, to meet expectations that feel alien to our true selves?

Facing the Demons

Williams’ demons — addiction, depression, and self-doubt — are not glossed over but are instead brought to life through surreal, almost haunting sequences. Multiplying mirrors and fractured reflections visually articulate the torment of a fragmented self. These struggles resonate universally, offering a stark reminder that no amount of external success can insulate us from internal battles. In this way, Better Man doesn’t just encourage us to confront our demons — it demands that we see them as part of the shared human condition, something that unites rather than isolates us.

Humour as Armour

Throughout his career, Williams used humour as both a shield and a bridge, disarming critics while connecting with fans. The film captures this balance, showing how humour often masks deeper pain. This duality makes the lessons of the film even more poignant, as it reveals that vulnerability and levity are not mutually exclusive but can coexist to create something profoundly human.

The Gift of Vulnerability

One of Better Man’s enduring lessons lies in its celebration of vulnerability. The evolution of Williams’ public persona — from the cheeky prankster of Take That to the raw, confessional artist behind songs like “Feel” — embodies a broader truth: authenticity draws people in. In a culture that often prioritises appearances and polish, this film invites us to embrace imperfection as the gateway to connection. This extends beyond fame; it’s a reminder for all of us to be real in a world that increasingly rewards the superficial.

The Soundtrack of Truth

Music, always central to Williams’ identity, is woven into the film not just as background but as emotional commentary. Tracks like “Angels” and “Come Undone” become more than hits — they’re windows into Williams’ soul. Through his lyrics and performances, Better Man reinforces the idea that music is a universal language, capable of expressing truths that words alone cannot.

Breaking the Chains

The father-son dynamic is another emotional lynchpin. Williams’ fraught relationship with his father reflects a recurring cycle of inherited pain — something many viewers will find familiar. By addressing this openly, the film offers hope that generational wounds need not define us. Healing is possible, but it requires courage, accountability, and the willingness to change. Forgiveness — of oneself and others — emerges as a quiet but powerful thread throughout this journey.

Intersection of Fame and Mental Health

In confronting the darker side of stardom, Better Man adds depth to ongoing conversations about mental health, particularly in public life. By showing Williams’ struggles with depression and addiction, the film challenges the stigma around mental health, especially for men who often feel societal pressure to suppress vulnerability. It encourages open dialogue and suggests that seeking help is not a weakness but a strength.

The Pursuit of Better

Better Man challenges the audience to redefine what it means to “be better”. It’s not about perfection or achievement but about self-awareness and resilience. Williams’ story is a testament to the power of embracing setbacks and turning them into stepping stones. The film reminds us that everyone carries invisible struggles, and the path to growth is messy and nonlinear.

At the Toronto International Film Festival premiere of Better Man

A Call to Reflection

As the credits roll, Better Man leaves us with a call to action: examine the roles we play, confront our insecurities, and strive for authenticity. Whether it’s journaling, seeking therapy, or fostering honesty in our relationships, the film encourages us to take small but meaningful steps toward self-acceptance and growth.

In the end, Better Man is not just a film about Robbie Williams. It’s a meditation on the human condition, urging us all to look beyond the surface — of others and ourselves. It is an ode to the flawed, the striving, and the courageous among us, who dare to confront their insecurities and strive for authenticity.

Robbie Williams might still see a monkey in the mirror, but Better Man ensures that we see something else entirely: a deeply human reflection of our own journey toward self-acceptance. Well done Robert!

Shares: