Major motion pictures are a strange machine with many complex parts. Most of those parts have a stake in the financial outcome of the picture. This means that any one of those complex parts also has a say in what is left on the cutting room floor and what is finally showcased to the world. No genre suffers from this system more than the biopic. On the surface it seems like a very simple formula for success. The only task is to tell the successful story of a beloved or hated popular figure. However, what we normally get is lifeless shell that attempts to deify more than exemplify.
Biopics are no different from any other film. Many of them based on published books or memoirs. This means that a great deal of rights need to be cleared ahead of time. In the case of a biopic, not only does the source material need to be cleared, but the final product usually must also be cleared by the person or their estate. Like most people, we all want to be remembered for our finer moments rather than our glaring mistakes. Unfortunately, the most interesting cinema (and art in general) centers around our faults or imperfections. Biopics seem to lightly wash over these character flaws as merely a footnote on the way to perfection. In rare cases, Raging Bull, we get an image of the imperfect man. It is a sobering look at how success does not equate to the cinematic happiness that Hollywood has portrayed since its inception.
In 2001 Michael Mann directed Will Smith in a biopic about the memorable and often times controversial Muhammad Ali. More than any other biopic in memory, this film suffers from an extreme version of revisionist history. They say that the winners always rewrite history. However, in today’s information age it is easy to see when those rewrites take place. Ali was more of a memorial to the beloved sports figure than a film about a human being. His insecurities were washed over by athletic and political achievements. What should have been a film showing one of the more complex figures in American history turned into a chronicle of professional achievement.
This past weekend I attended a screening of the French film Coco Before Chanel. As you would guess it chronicled the early life of famed fashion designer Coco Chanel. While the film was entertaining and mildly insightful, it still suffered from the usual biopic symptoms. Coco Chanel is portrayed as a women who seemingly always knew what to do. The movie placed her in a world where she was surrounded by the insanity of the upper class. When presented with a problem it is never of her own creation. A brief search into information about her life shows a much more interesting picture after the movie ended. While her love life makes for interesting drama, it seems to neglect who she was and what her place in fashion history is (although a few words in the epilogue of the film shed some light on this).
The biopic is an interesting conundrum in Hollywood. The non fictional life does not fit into the perfect mold of the Hollywood movie structure. Unfortunately, there have been few attempts to think outside of the box. Most times, real lives are shoved into a format that doesn’t suit it. This why the modern documentary has slowly crept into the place of the biopic.