At the Core of ‘Rocketman’ Is A Broken Heart

I loved it. Having said that, I cried. Not for the right reasons. In the first few minutes, as I came to understand that I was about to endure musical theater on-screen, complete with huge production numbers, the despair I keep mostly at bay overtook me. I wept for humanity, for my own tire-tracked soul and for the two hours soon to be inflicted. Yet then, quickly, “Rocketman” got to me.

The opening scene shows us Elton John dressed in a red horned costume. He is in the desperate final stages of addiction. He is larger than life, his heart-shaped glasses riddled with rhinestones. His face is a mix of the alcoholic’s mask of arrogance and deep honest sorrow. He has unwittingly run out of denial. He arrives reluctantly to an institutional version of a circle of recovering people and tells his story. Then it gets weird.

A young Elton, age 5, becomes central. We begin to fall in love with the kid. His father is a troll, and the question “When will you hug me?” breaks our hearts. 

As a young musician, Elton plays back-up, and he asks an American Motown Legend how a nerdy London kid can become a singer-songwriter. He is told: “Write some songs.” The light dawns in this uncomplicated wisdom. 

We see a surreal LA Troubador Bar debut of “Crocodile Rock” featuring, among other things, quite appropriate-seeming mass levitation, and there we remember why we go to the theater. Elton John’s music suddenly becomes huge in our emotional landscape.

People are saying: “It’s no ‘Bohemian Rhapsody.’” And it isn’t, which is probably why they chose a different title. On balance, so many movies aren’t “Bohemian Rhapsody.” Yes, “Rocketman” is limited to its own locus of story, but it is also campy and fantastic in every sense of the word. They are spot on when they hype the movie as “Based on a True Fantasy.” And prepare for some fun dialogue.

“Did being married make you happy?

“Not really: I’m gay.”

“Rocketman,” produced by Elton John’s husband David Furnish and completely approved by John, is about recovery, broken-heartedness, the big gay life, and addiction. It is about genius, parenting the self, and about love. It is about glam, about finding meaning beyond cash and prizes in life and, oh yes, it is definitely about music.

We watch Elton attempt suicide at his own mansion party, submerging in a pool, encountering himself there. The song “Rocketman” blasts, and it shoots us into the stars of our own compassion and understanding. We are redeemed merely for having witnessed the moment at the bottom of that pool, which involves clarity, kindness and forgiveness.

Toward the end, Elton’s songwriter and dear companion Bernie Taupin visits him in rehab, bringing him fresh lyrics and the wisdom that encapsulates the beating heart of 12-step recovery: “You might be able to lie to yourself but you can’t lie to me.”

May we all enjoy such friendships.

“Rocketman” is playing widely and at The Moviehouse in Millerton.