Every Music Biopic Is Actually About Us
by Marianna Orozco for Five Cent Sound, Revival”Issue
In the fall of 2018, actor Rami Malek was adorned with giant prosthetic teeth, a protruding, crooked set of faux enamel that, when paired with an effete English accent, elegant posture, and an emblematic broken microphone stand, revived rock legend and Queen frontman Freddie Mercury. Malek went on to win the most distinguished awards for an actor, sweeping Hollywood ceremonies at the behest of his peers. But Bohemian Rhapsody’s most impressive feat was its ability to reinvigorate the fanaticism around Queen, which had dwindled in the decades following Mercury’s death.
This is the power of the musician-biopic, a sub-sub-genre that follows the life and career of musical icons:, displaying moments of grandeur and struggle in a three-act structure, which Bohemian Rhapsody perfected. Since its release seven years ago, biopics have been on the rise, rallying the masses to obsess over the pivotal yet mysterious figures of pop culture.
A year after the release of Bohemian Rhapsody, another biopic about a 1970s queer British rockstar who wore tight, sparkly outfits hit theaters in what seemed to be an echo of the preceding film’s success. Rocketman, starring Taron Egerton as pop legend Elton John, is a fantastical journey through the lens of a larger-than-life artist struggling with identity and addiction throughout his rise to fame. The two films represent the majesty and tragedy of these artists’ lives, drawing ‘normals’ in with the fuss and feathers, and gripping our hearts with emotional narratives, leaving us moved and enraptured with these mythical figures.
After Bohemian Rhapsody and Rocketman, artists like Aretha Franklin, Elvis Presley, Bob Dylan, and even “Weird” Al Yankovic got the biopic treatment, their legacies and careers re-examined by a changed — practically unrecognizable — world from the one that first heard their music. The modern mainstream, driven by a digital world of algorithms, sensationalism, and the fickle interests of young people, creates an oversaturated, fast-moving attention market that consumes art just as quickly as it spits them out.
Biopics reflect reality, albeit one construed, written, and aestheticized by Hollywood elites for the sake of entertainment and box office success. It’s difficult to discern mercenary intent from genuine, impassioned storytelling — exploitation from artistic exploration. Passion is not lacking from performers. Austin Butler, having famously gone full method in the role of Elvis and allegedly permanently maintaining the baritone of the late musician, certainly doesn’t lack it. Neither does Timothe Chalamet, who, to promote the film A Complete Unknown, traveled across America spreading the gospel of Bob Dylan’s life and discography.
But there is something to say about how the film industry perceives the appeal of biopics. With built-in audiences ranging from older, nostalgic crowds of classic rock enthusiasts to younger generations who think retro is trendy or find the actors oh-so dreamy, millions of viewers are willing to see musicians revived on the big screen. And in a post-COVID world of empty movie theaters and a hundred billion-dollar streaming industry, studios need the cash — and nostalgia is a very profitable investment.
Over the past seven years, these films have revived both the careers of mid-century musicians and the biopic genre itself. Streaming of Queen’s music catalog more than tripled after the film’s release in November of 2018, which means the band’s revenue tripled as well. In 2022, Elvis Presley’s monthly listeners on Spotify increased by three million, and his estate value doubled from $500 million to almost $1 billion.
Driving numbers in tandem with nostalgia is modern celebrity culture, a force that has stolen society's attention with the glamour of high-profile individuals and gives us new, old celebrities to obsess over. But at times, captivation gives way to idolatry. Biopics are the perfect recipe to create mass obsession around a revived, mythical figure, their fall from grace only adding to their mystery and appeal. Using a combination of pointed writing, dramatic music, and visceral cinematography, the evocative nature of filmmaking becomes centered around a single person, whether alive or dead.
Following the release of A Complete Unknown, a 2024 biopic about a young Bob Dylan, younger generations were enraptured with the folk singer’s Midwestern accent and laid-back and pretentious, yet mysteriously attractive persona. Folk songs released as early as 1960 were suddenly circulating throughout groups of young people, but this time they weren’t sung by a Minnesota legend, but rather a beloved actor with a large and dedicated fanbase. The resulting surge of Dylan-themed media raises questions about whether audiences' reception of the film truly revived the musician’s career or co-opted his music and Chalamet’s performance in order to create another trend.
A Complete Unknown is an example of the potential danger in attempting to revive a musician’s persona and artistry. The film was successful in making people listen to Dylan’s music, his weekly streams growing by around 150% after its release, but it also altered his life and legacy. Dylan’s stance as a purveyor of change in music, society, and culture, as well as a prominent activist and poet, isn’t taken seriously or acknowledged by the mass culture. Instead, we see “Bob Dylan-core” TikToks of young men hunching over in oversized jackets to Dylan’s crooning voice in “Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright.” But even as ridiculous, albeit amusing, as these reactions may seem, it's the same way Gen Z reacts to any prolific figure that we become enraptured by. When a prominent contemporary artist, like Taylor Swift, Beyoncé, or Bad Bunny, releases an album, the first reactions on social media are young people dancing to, singing along with, or attempting to embody the music in a carefree manner. Dylan’s music, which many adolescents listened to for the first time in December 2024, is not excluded from this phenomenon.
However, social media isn’t strictly to blame for misinterpretations: Studios are often at fault as well. Movies are a 120-minute, at times less, momentary glance into a complex person’s life, and while they create buzz around older artists, they risk misrepresenting motives and personhood. Even in the most successful biopic of all time, Bohemian Rhapsody, integral aspects of Mercury’s life, including his sexuality, are glazed over and diluted as a third-string storyline. In Elvis, in an effort to evangelize the late artist, many of his misdeeds are also overshadowed by the villainous nature of his manager, Tom Parker, played by Tom Hanks, whose portrayal is overwhelmingly dramatized to the point of absurdity. There are also instances, as in the Amy Winehouse biopic Back in Black, where artists are demonized more than deified. In Back in Black, Winehouse’s life is oversimplified to focus on sensationalizing her addiction and dysfunctional relationships, and neglecting her artistry and mental health struggles. No matter how much criticism is thrown in the way of studios, there is still damage done.
By the time this article is printed, another huge biopic project, Deliver Me From Nowhere, will have hit theaters and likely revive the career of American singer-songwriter Bruce Springsteen. Hollywood will have gotten their check, Jeremy Allen White’s portrayal will have generated an Americana-themed trend, and Springsteen himself will likely receive some new praise and attention past his political statements. In the next few years, Sam Mendes’ Beatles project, starring some of the U.K.’s most eligible bachelors, will be released and recreate 60s Beatle-fever. Michael, the upcoming 2026 Michael Jackson biopic, is basically a sure thing in terms of success and cultural relevance, with his nephew Jafaar Jackson playing the late King of Pop. Fred Astaire, the Bee Gees, and the Grateful Dead will also be getting their own career-reviving biopics, which is likely a sign that Hollywood is beginning to run out of artists.
Still, musician biopics aren’t dying down any time soon. With the state of celebrity culture and affinity for nostalgia, these films endear themselves to the masses in a perfect recipe of drama, passion, and legendary music. But until we as a collective society attempt to cohesively inspect, rather than just quickly consume the personhood of artists, we may miss out on real lessons and cultural reality in favor of mythology. Until then, we’ll continue to consume, listen, and watch in unabashed fascination, perhaps because we want to be a part of the enduring legacy they created, or to satiate our desires to see the rich and famous struggle — just like we do.