I finally saw Bohemian Rhapsody the other day. Yeah, I know. I know.
I will readily admit that after reading early reviews that claimed Mercury's sex life had been horrifically whitewashed and the whole gay thing had been swept under the rug, I had been consciously boycotting the film.
But when I saw it pop up on HBO or Showtime or wherever it was, I said, "Fuck it" and set it to record.
I was pleasantly surprised. Whitewashed? I didn't see it. Freddie's sexuality was pretty clearcut (he followed a trucker into a t-room, for chrissake!) and presented in a non-judgmental fashion. Maybe he was a bigger freak in the sack than portrayed on screen, but in no way was I confused about where he wanted to bury his pole or felt that it had been glossed over.
More interesting for me was how the song the film is named after had such a horrific initial reception—something I don't remember at all—rapidly turning into something that will far outlive any member of the group who spawned it. As I told Ben the other day, I fully expect Bohemian Rhapsody to be played as "classical" music in centuries to come.
My biggest complaint about the film was that I never saw Freddie. I only saw Rami Malek. The three other members of Queen, seemed spot on, but Freddie was just…missing.