Freddie Mercury: The King of Queen (2018)

Directed by: Jordan Hill | 180 minutes | documentary, music

Under the heading ‘Freddie Mercury – the King of Queen’, three documentaries have been brought together in one issue. The documentaries each last about an hour and whoever thinks that the docu’s provide new insights and an in-depth picture of the charismatic singer will be disappointed. The trio of biographical films: ‘Freddie Mercury: The King of Queen’, ‘Freddie Mercury: The Ultimate Showman’ and ‘Queen: How They Broke Free’ all contain largely the same content. It seems like a cheap way to make some quick money from the huge success of the blockbuster and Oscar winner ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’. Even the cover of the DVD looks suspiciously like the poster (and DVD cover) of the cinema film in terms of color use. There are differences in accent, for example in ‘How They Broke Free’ the other band members get a little more attention and in all three versions there are images that the others don’t have. However, more than 80% of the three documentaries are exactly the same. Enthusiasts will enjoy the snatches of his rich, deep voice during the performances, which feature short clips and the sparse footage of interviews with Mercury himself.

The documentaries are set up along the same structure: from Freddie’s childhood as Farrokh Bulsara, son of Indian parents who grew up in Zanzibar, to the early years of Queen and its huge success in the 1970s and early 1980s. Very conventional and a bit boring even for such a flamboyant and groundbreaking artist as Mercury. His illness and death is pretty much glued to it and never feels like an integral part of his tragic life story.

Not the other three band members (except in short archive footage), but a number of people he worked with or who knew him: former employees of record company EMI Paul Watts and Eric Hall, music journalist Rosie Horide, photographer Mick Rock, (radio ) host Paul Gambaccini and – only in ‘The Ultimate Showman’ – music expert Dr. Jennifer Otter Bickerdike. That docu also starts with a short intro around the Oscar ceremony in February 2019, but it also borrows just as hard from the other, older docu’s. The speakers give a sketch of Queen’s history in an anecdotal atmosphere, which is sometimes amusing, but also regularly touches the surface.

Perhaps not surprising given the fact that Mercury shielded his private life as much as possible and was quite shy in his early years, but as a viewer you don’t get to know much anymore. It’s a lot of basic stuff that any true Queen fan should know, but Mercury’s parentage, for example, is presented here as newsworthy.

They’ve been watching Mercury, it seems, but can’t quite put into words what made him such a legendary artist. Especially Eric Hall, former PR man of EMI, is irritating with his protracted memories peppered with jargon and weird expressions. Most notably, he claims that Mercury wrote the song “Killer Queen” for him because Freddie had a crush on him. Gambaccini and Horide, reacting to it on camera, hardly seem to believe it. (note: Mercury once said in an interview that the song was about an exclusive call girl, who moved in the higher circles). The others have an interesting angle at times, but it’s clear they were never really close to Freddie. Rock shot some of the iconic photos for the band’s LP covers and Watts once suggested on behalf of the record company that the six-minute long “Bohemian Rhapsody” be cut short.

About how Queen worked, how they wrote songs, how the band members looked at their front man, none of that. For documentaries that highlight his short, intensely lived life, the viewer learns little about his private life: Mary Austin (‘Love of my Life’) comes by very briefly, friend Jim Hutton is absent, and certainly nothing about his legendary parties where the craziest things happened. It is the description of a puzzle where half the pieces are missing.

Freddie Mercury deserved better documentaries about his life. But had he really cared? The man who seemed to be mad at everything might have laughed at such a brave and tame approach. He refused to be pigeonholed and defined. Enough material for hours of conversation and analysis about an artist who reinvented himself and hid his inner personality with his extroverted and extravagant personality. That the makers fail to break through those layers confirms that perhaps the success of Mercury’s performance was unintentional.