Bohemian Rhapsody: An uninspired tribute to a legendary musician

Kiana Manian, Class of 2021

Queen’s 1975 single “Bohemian Rhapsody” is regarded as one of the greatest songs of all time. The six-minute suite is a powerful musical story, combining ballad, opera, and hard rock — seemingly disjointed but nothing short of magic. The 2018 movie of the same name is more of a romp through Queen’s Greatest Hits than a biopic. The movie fails to have the same impact as its namesake. The trailer claimed that the only thing more extraordinary than their music was their frontman, Freddie Mercury’s story, and while that may be the case, the storytelling in this movie failed to do justice to the legendary musician.

Stylistically, Bohemian Rhapsody isn’t sure of what it is. Sometimes a ‘gritty and honest’ view into the perils of fame; at others, a dysfunctional family drama about four people who, at the end of the day, love each other and make phenomenal music. All throughout, the movie becomes white noise at a dingy karaoke bar urging people to sing along with grating rainbow lyrics that in no way fit with the dramatic and realistic aesthetic the film tries to establish. The narrative is unfocused, with multiple storylines built up to no climax. We get no character development, no resolution of conflict, just snappy one-liners that detract from the gravity that the storytelling could have achieved. Many scenes are nothing but unnecessary reminders of Queen’s unique place in rock ’n’ roll hall of fame and added nothing to the story but self-congratulation.

What saves the movie are the performances. The actors play off each other with great ease, their chemistry palpable. The highlight for me was the beautifully essayed relationship between Freddie Mercury and Mary Austin, owing to the performances of Rami Malek and Lucy Boynton. Their realistic depiction of two people with an endless love for each other but nowhere to go with it gave some poignant moments. Maybe the whole “love of my life” refrain was a little tedious, but the ups and downs of their great non-romance were enough to make a great movie in itself.

Love at first sight: Freddie Mercury (Rami Malek) and Mary Austin (Lucy Boynton) I Source: glamour.com

While Mercury’s relationship with Austin bolsters much of the narrative, what is problematic is that the end of their romance is treated as the tragedy of him being gay. Having read a review before watching the movie myself, I was sceptical about how the movie would approach Mercury’s sexuality and struggles with immigrant identity. The tokenism, stereotyping, and a careless attitude towards real struggles faced by a real person are hard to forgive. His parents and family exist only as a reminder of his Parsi origins. The Zoroastrian philosophy of ‘good thoughts, good deeds, good words’ is repeated many times only for the tiniest payoff. What could be a heartfelt reconciliation between Freddie and his father ends up coming across as forced and unrealistic. Mercury’s exploration and discovery of his sexual identity is portrayed through a sex and drug-fueled stupor that lacks the care and depth that his relationship with Austin received. This cannot simply be attributed to a problem in the director’s vision, Bryan Singer being an openly gay man himself, but it certainly falls prey to the problematic notions that conflate queerness with excess and promiscuity. Going from being in a straight, monogamous relationship to having liaisons with a frenzy of men, including his “villainous” manager Paul Prenter, portrays his sexuality in a negative light. His relationship with Jim Hutton, in reality as serious, long and loving as his relationship with Austin, is not given its due. The movie seems to be in a hurry to establish it, conveniently forgets about it midway and suddenly picks it up to tie loose ends.

A still from the final Live Aid sequence I Source: 20th Century Fox

And, of course, there is Mercury’s AIDS diagnosis, which the movie blatantly uses as a dramatic device. Following from his promiscuous days, the illness is made to seem like another misgiving of his sexual orientation, a seminal moment of reconciliation with his bandmates, and a segue to the final Live Aid performance. In actuality (as I said, I don’t care about accuracy, I care about truth), his diagnosis came after the concert, and Live Aid was not a final goodbye or a poetic moment of revelation and closure. It was unfair to reduce the disease that took his life to a convenient plot point.

On a final note, Rami Malek had the mammoth task of becoming Freddie Mercury and, he did not disappoint! Though there were moments when you couldn’t escape the rushed story and contrived navigation, he never ceased to amaze and successfully carried the entire second half (a considerably better half) on his bedazzled shoulders. His delivery is flawless and he walks the line of tortured and fantastic, very sweet and vulnerable with care. Even in a movie that pays no attention to character development, Malek is as whole as he can be.

(From R to L) Ben Hardy as Roger Taylor, Gwilym Lee as Brian May, Joseph Mazzello as John Deacon, Rami Malek as Freddie Mercury I Credits: 20th Century Fox

Ultimately, what’s disappointing about Bryan Singer’s love letter to the iconic band is that it fails to rise to the challenge of capturing the greatness of Mercury’s journey. It didn’t do what Queen did best — stand out from their contemporaries and completely captivate an audience. That’s not to say that the film isn’t enjoyable or that there weren’t good moments, but Bohemian Rhapsody never truly realises its vision to memorialize Queen or Mercury’s legacy, in all its glory. More than anything, it is a medley of Queen’s most popular numbers driving the story. For some, Bohemian Rhapsody may be the foot-stomping celebration promised to fans, but the extraordinary story of Freddie Mercury is “yet to have its finest hour”. I hope it’s coming soon.

The author is a staff writer for the Arts & Culture column of the Edict.

Review: The ‘true’ story of Padmaavat

Himali Thakur, Class of 2019

Padmaavat has been embroiled in a very public controversy for nearly a year now. Several groups, including the right-wing Karni Sena, claimed that it hurt the sentiments of the Rajputs: the movie was an inaccurate and damaging portrayal of Rani Padmavati, the protagonist of Bhansali’s film. From threats to the movie’s cast to the stoning of a school bus in Gurgaon, Padmaavat managed to create quite a stir before its release. With the movie’s controversy getting so much attention, I was curious to watch Padmaavat. It would be interesting to see just what it was about the politics of this movie that managed to spark off such a response.

Bhansali’s love for grandeur simply explodes in Padmaavat. The sets and the costumes dazzle every moment. The sequence for the track “Ghoomar” has beautiful shots. In one shot, the camera hovers above the dancers as they spin; the lehengas spread out and look like blooming flowers. Another scene that leaves an impression is the final sequence, where Padmavati commits jauhar (self-immolation); Deepika Padukone’s grace in this scene gave me goosebumps. Ranveer Singh completely immerses himself in his role of Alauddin Khalji to give a performance that is probably the highlight of the movie.

However, that is the only praise that the movie can evoke. Padmaavat does not have a compelling plot. Instead, it feels like a string of events that just happen one after the other. While coherent plot lines have not been Bhansali’s strongest suit (case in point: Bajirao Mastani), I have enjoyed his movies for their sheer scale. With Padmaavat, the impact of the visuals is ruined by the fact that too many of the scenes are set using poorly executed CGI. Further, with the mammoth budget for which the movie was produced, I had hoped for some spectacular battle sequences. Instead, what we have are, again, poorly done CGI shots of only one battle.

Although Ranveer Singh is successful as a comic Alauddin Khalji, his character becomes predictable even before the halfway mark of the movie. In fact, Singh’s Khalji is no different from the loud, abrasive comic character that he usually plays; this character’s script could’ve been copy-pasted from Goliyon ki Rasleela Ram-Leela. The politics of representation aside, Alauddin Khalji’s ‘debauch barbarian’ does not evoke as much disgust and horror (as I think he was supposed to) as he does exasperation. Khalji’s insistence on cracking jokes and dancing around like a clown wore my patience down to the bone. He has so much screen time that instead of Padmaavat, the movie should have been called Alauddin Khalji because we see more of him than any other character.

Shahid Kapoor and Deepika Padukone fulfil their roles as Rawal Rattan Singh and Rani Padmavati with their usual professionalism. Unfortunately, their efforts are almost negated by Jim Sarbh, who plays Khalji’s general Malik Khafur. Even some of Khafur’s serious dialogues become hilarious because Sarbh does not take his character seriously. Khafur’s supposed ‘homosexuality’ just makes things worse. His every appearance on screen is cringe-worthy. No person — straight, gay, bisexual, or any sexuality under the sun—really behaves as desperately as Malik Khafur in Padmaavat.

I could go on about the annoying components that make up the entirety of Padmaavat. For instance, in costume design, Khalji’s gold-studded boots looked out of place for the thirteenth-century feel of the movie; there was a problematic glorification of Padmavati’s self-immolation; Rawal Rattan Singh’s insistence on a stubborn sense of “honour” made me face-palm nearly every time he was on screen.

Those cinema sins are compounded by the very thing the movie received so much attention for: representation. The outrage that spread across a few states, causing some theatres to initially back out from screening the movie, was because the movie was claimed to be a dishonourable portrayal of Rani Padmavati and the Rajput clans in general. It is true that film has a Manichean portrayal of its characters, but it is also true that this representation is highly biased in favour of the Rajput clans. Rawal Rattan Singh and the entire population of Chittor are the ‘civilised’ and overly ‘honourable’ lot, while Alauddin Khalji and his band of followers are nothing more than ‘hooligans’ who control half a subcontinent with nothing but a lot of underhand tricks. When the trailers first came out, people did pick up on the movie’s attempt to paint Khalji as a completely maddened barbarian — a debauch with no redeeming qualities. And, unfortunately, that is precisely what the movie continues to do; it gives a one-sided view of the entire Khalji clan.

On Friday, the Shri Rajput Karni Sena withdrew its allegations against Padmaavat and declared that the movie actually glorifies Rajput valour. They decided to facilitate screenings of the movie in Rajasthan and Madhya Pradesh, among other states. After such an exhausting debacle, perhaps Padmaavat does tell us one thing: it reminds us who is allowed to cry out “misrepresentation” in our country.

Verdict: 1/5

Lightning’s Back: A solid new superhero

Srishti Agarwal, Class of 2019

The CW’s latest outing with DCTV, Black Lightning, premiered on January 16, 2018. It was their highest rated original series premiere in the last two years. On-campus viewers can catch it on Netflix, where new episodes will be available for streaming every week. Despite being from the same production team as the shows in the Arrowverse, this DCTV show is currently intended as being separate from them — a move to let it organically grow as a standalone show.

Promotional poster for the premiere | Source: IMDb

The show begins, impactfully, with an unapologetic and realistic portrayal of the injustice of racial profiling. Jefferson Pierce, a pillar of the community, has been working as the Principal of Garfield High School for the last seven years, and has been a retired superhero for the last nine. That’s right: unlike all the superhero shows currently on television, whether Marvel or DC, this show doesn’t glorify being young and reckless as the trademarks of a superhero. By focusing on the arc of a retired superhero living a family life, Black Lightning gives more of a The Incredibles vibe (sequel coming out this June; twelve years too late, but nonetheless). Pierce seems to believe that he can do more good as someone who takes care of his family and community than someone roaming the streets — a realisation that most superheroes seem to come to sooner or later in the DC Universe, *cough* Mayor Queen *cough*.

The show is set at a time when the rising terror of a gang, called The 100, demands the mask Pierce thought he had forgone. By beginning with this storyline, instead of leading up to it in a linear narrative, Black Lightning presents both an origin and a re-origin arc. The presentation adds to Pierce’s arc as it explores the storyline of a reluctant hero, which DC hasn’t done with its Arrowverse shows. Moreover, this allows the show to explore the pitfalls of being a superhero from the very beginning and skip the glorification montage. The first episode sets up a lot of interesting questions on the manifestations of violence — whether it is in the form of police brutality, activism, gang violence, or superheroism through vigilantism. The last question in particular seems to be one that the hero will be struggling with. Posing these questions in a city where violence is the truest, commonest factor in everyone’s lives elevates their importance and impact. These questions are raised and viewed in lieu of the supervillain this season, Tobias Whale, who is Black Lightning’s archenemy in the comics. The show employs the standard “personal enmity” trope along with a “does horrible things to the community” trope to establish this big bad. The cliche-ness of the villain seems to be one of the worst sins the premiere commits, but it’s too early to tell whether this indicates another Vandal Savage disaster.

The performances of all the cast were realistic and greatly contributed to the impact of the premiere. The highlight, for me, was Nafessa Williams as Anissa Pierce, Jefferson’s daughter; she carried out the badass and softer elements of her role with conviction. The background score was quite catchy, though there were times when it felt forced. The cinematography struck a nice balance between the darkness that shrouds the activities of Black Lightning and the brightness of Pierce’s day-to-day life. The special effects felt a little unpolished, but, for better or worse, they didn’t appear too often. The overall feel of the show ends up being as dark as early episodes of Arrow, though the familial elements are reminiscent of The Flash.

We are in a time of change, where diversity seems to be a key factor in the popularity of new superhero content, whether it’s in terms of moving away from the white male as a superhero or the stoic standard that superhero stories try to hold themselves to. Black Lightning taps into the audience’s demand for something new while still holding onto the elements that make superhero stories compelling throughout the ages. Overall, while there is much development to be done on the plot points that have begun to be established, I’d give the premiere a solid 4 out of 5 for its ability to evoke emotions and grapple with a different brand of superhero.