Rocketman ★★★½

A turbulent childhood, a lonely singer who endlessly yearns for love, clumsy montages of newspaper headlines that call back to the badly edited tour sequences and city names in Bohemian, the shrewdness of John Reid, the brief spectacle of hedonistic behavior, the protagonist’s surrender to drugs addiction, his downfall and uplifting comeback - sounds familiar enough? All the common music genre trappings aside, Rocketman’s greatest strength perhaps lies in its ability to prance around the extremity of surrealism, and its willingness to go one step further to embrace the nature of its fantastical edge that shoots down your body with multiple dazzling musical numbers rushing through like euphoric lightning bolts. It works because it succumbs to the ridiculousness on display - a preposterous concoction as a result of blending genre clichés, Taron's effervescence, and euphonious originality. Elton’s glam rock infused gravity-defying symphonies sweep us, revelers, off the ground; our bodies levitate to the Crocodile Rock’s “la la la la la” exulting beats, as the melodies are guaranteed to stay in our bones.

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