If you ever plan on lobbing a criticism at Robbie Williams, he’ll probably beat you to it. The British musician, 50, has spent more than three decades in the spotlight – and in that time, he’s remained one of the most hotly debated figures in pop culture. That’s part of what makes the new film about his life, Better Man, so fascinating. But honestly, that’s not even half of it.
“Let’s face it – no one is clamouring for a Robbie Williams biopic right now,” Williams tells The National. “Even though I think they should, perception says that’s not where we’re at. People need to be reminded. And so here we are, on the precipice of a biopic coming out where I’m played by a CGI monkey.”
It’s a curious thing. And he’s not joking – in case you haven’t heard, Williams is actually portrayed as a CGI monkey a la Planet of the Apes in the biopic of his life, brought to the big screen by director Michael Gracey (The Greatest Showman). What’s even more curious is that it’s excellent – rightfully garnering rave reviews across the world, lauded as thrilling, funny and surprisingly heartfelt.
“I couldn’t not see it as a great idea from the start. Before Michael even finished the sentence of telling me the idea, I was like, ‘I’m totally in'. And then I went to my wife, who’s the minister of all decisions, and I was like, ‘you’re never going to guess what. I’m a monkey in the movie!’ She was like ‘What?’ And it was then that I discovered that not everybody would think like me,” remembers Williams.
“But here’s the thing. The pre-trailer garnered around 30 million views in 24 hours. If there’s no monkey, there’s no 30 million. It turns heads.”
The journey to Better Man, which opens in cinemas on Thursday across the Middle East, began more than seven years ago, when Williams first sat down with Gracey and the film’s writers for what turned into a 12-hour chat.
It’s not the first time that’s happened, either. He’s a born storyteller, and he’s spent decades collecting them – tales of working-class grit and celebrity glamour, stories of love and loss – each full of remarkable highs and lows.
“I love telling my stories,” says Williams, “because I get a dopamine hit from it – some days more than others. I like explaining myself because at my core when you're maligned on such a massive scale, you think everybody else has read every single word about you, and they haven't, but I just still feel like I need to explain myself.”
Many of his favourite stories end up in the surprisingly candid film, which he narrates – though not all, of course.
“I'd have been sued to high heaven if they did, really. There's no way you can prove that these things happened and were said. But they did, and they were. Still, if I were the people that I was telling them about, I'd sue me, too,” says Williams.
But even with some punches pulled, he still cringes at the honesty on display once he realises that everyone involved is about to see it. Front of mind are the members of his on-again-off-again band Take That, who recently contacted him interested in a private screening.
“Mark Owen from the band Take That emailed me and said, ‘me and the lads are in town, and we’d love to see the movie. Can you sort a screening?’ My first response was, ‘oh no'. But my actual response was, ‘what a great idea! Yes, I’ll organise that for you,’” says Williams.
“I’m conflict avoidant. I’m comfortable telling my story and all the people in it, but I’m not comfortable hearing from the people that I talk about.”
One of those people is his father Peter Williams, played in the film by Steve Pemberton. He’s dreading his father seeing it, because their relationship may be the one thing in the movie not captured with full honesty.
“Steve is brilliant in the movie, but my dad in the movie is not a sympathetic character. In real life, he’s incredibly charming and charismatic. Everybody that meets him falls in love with him. For me, that’s difficult, because he’s not going to like what he sees,” says Williams.
Why put himself through all of this at all? Williams wonders this, too. After all, he’s overcome health issues both physical and mental. He’s tackled substance abuse issues. He’s been through the ringer, and at 50 finds himself better than he’s ever been in his life. But there’s still something nagging at him, and for better or for worse it’s what drives him forward.
“What’s scary for me is that I’m the wellest I’ve ever been, but I’m still so linked to my sense of self and the self worth that being a pop star brings. I don’t want ego death. I think having biographies, documentaries and books when you reach a certain age staves off ego death,” says Williams.
“But now I’m so wrapped up emotionally in this film doing well and my career prolonging that it scares me. I don’t want my happiness to be contingent on being the man. But it might just be part of the human condition. I’m sure if you’re a great accountant, you don’t want to be less successful in your fifties than you were in your twenties.”
Part of the problem may lie in the fact that what’s driven him has always been a need for fame more than just a need to create art.
“I think in another universe, I was born in 1989 and I’m a content creator and music didn’t touch me at all,” says Williams. “There’s another universe where I’m MrBeast, or whoever isn’t being maligned with controversy right now. I love music, and it touches me deeply in my soul, as it touches everybody. But music was the mechanism for me to exist. YouTube could have been that just as easily.”
At the same time, maybe Williams would be a pop singer in any universe. He’s always been diverse in the art that he consumes, usually gravitating towards artists with careers who don’t remotely resemble his own, but he always finds himself writing pop songs. Perhaps there's a deeper link to him and his music than he realises.
“I just find that interesting. I want to be The Bends. I want to be OK Computer. I want to be The White Album,” Williams says, referencing two albums by Radiohead and one by The Beatles, respectively. “But that just doesn’t happen. There’s no careerist manipulation when I think about writing songs. My references don’t sound like me. It’s just about what moves me, and I hope that moves other people.”
And while Better Man has turned Williams into the talk of the industry once again, heading to Dubai to walk the red carpet of the regional premiere on Sunday, an evening after opening up Saadiyat Nights in Abu Dhabi for a new season, that’s all he’s looking for. None of this exists so he can be remembered. Even decades into his career, he can only think about the present.
“I don’t want legacy. I want now,” says Williams.
Better Man will be released on Thursday in cinemas across the Middle East
