It has been said that Walk The Line set up the “cradle to grave” music biopic genre in 2005. Then Walk Hard came along two years later to deal the killing blow. Yes, there have been financially successful attempts at the genre (Bohemian Rhapsody). Alas, they largely delivered creatively unsatisfying recitations of a tired formula that sanded down their subjects to make them more palatable and eliminate some of what made them so compelling (again, Bohemian Rhapsody). The few exceptions, say Elvis or Rocket Man, largely popped due to significant stylistic choices. Tearing a page out of their books, Better Man tells the story of Robbie Williams with a small twist. They cast the British singer as a CGI monkey. Can’t argue that’s not something different.

The monkey is motion captured throughout by Jonno Davies, who also voices the star as a teen and young man. Adam Tucker provides singing vocals for young Robbie while the singer tackles the voiceover and sings for the fully adult (but still monkey-ified) Williams. It is a gimmick, for certain, but one that truly does enhance, not detract, from the storytelling. No one will miss the immediate subtext of the choice. The monkey provides a visual cue to Williams’ perception of himself as an outsider, whether among his classmates in Tunstall or with his Take That bandmates as they taste boy band fame. It also acts as a bit of self-recrimination, implying Williams, especially with his various addictions, could be a bit more animal than man.

The secondary, perhaps unintended, consequence proves most successful though. Making the pop star into a chimpanzee given life by computers and several actors frees the character from mimicry. Objectively, the audience knows Williams is not a tall chimp with a gift for dancing. Thus, from the jump, no one expects a mirror. The monkey is freed to author a character rather than slavishly recreate a real person.

Williams succeeded as a member of Take That and a solo act abroad. However, in America, his achievements have been more limited. Moreover, what Stateside accomplishments he did experience are mostly over two decades in the past. That gives Better Man something of a double sword to wrestle with. On the one hand, along the same lines as using a CGI monkey, the average American moviegoer won’t have much by way of expectations or foreknowledge. While Williams shares several biographical details with many rags-to-riches star stories—absent parent, working-class roots, addiction—the specifics will be new to most Americans in the seats. On the other, there is a minimal built-in audience to count on showing up. So, the storytelling can’t rely on the hits, as it were.

Choosing, like Rocket Man, to make the film a full-out musical certainly helps. One setpiece in particular, set to the song “Rock DJ,” is a genuine showstopper, filmed with energy to spare. Director Michael Gracey, cinematographer Erik Wilson, and choreographer Ashley Wallen seem in sync as they match Take That’s break into the mainstream with an ebullient costume change-filled trek down a few London city blocks. The editing team of Martin Connor, Jeff Groth, Lee Smith, and Spencer Susser deserve credit as well. They are the rare modern movie musical editing team that lets the choreography shine while still cutting between shots.

The other smart choice is how screenwriters Gracey, Simon Gleeson, and Oliver Cole incorporate Williams’ voice into Better Man. It starts with his cheeky, arch take on his own life via the voiceover. That part closely matches the singer’s interview and on-stage persona. However, Better Man also captures Williams’ sadder, more sentimental aspect, one typically present in his music and nearly nowhere else. His relationship with his grandmother Betty (Alison Steadman, very good), in particular, reflects that side of the pop star.

While this makes Better Man a consistently entertaining affair, it is not a flawless movie. It still stumbles into the standard music biopic structure trope: “Rise, success, resent the success, addiction, destruction, return, reconciliation” and gives Williams’ tale a false ending of sorts to do it. Without any external information, one would be forgiven to think the film ends roughly in the present day and the man hasn’t done anything noteworthy—positive or negative—since. Neither is true, even if the past two decades have been decidedly less frantic for the currently 50-year-old.

Additionally, the film can often feel frustratingly incomplete for characters who aren’t Williams. For instance, after Damon Herriman makes Nigel Martin Smith, Take That’s Svengali, such a compelling villain, it is irritating he disappears from Better Man without a final beat. Sure, it is Robbie’s story, but it seems a shame to let a bad guy this good shuffle out without some proper sendoff.

It is admirable that the film—and by extension, Williams—doesn’t shy away from his self-destructive behaviors even during the apex of his recording career. The ownership of how badly he handled his relationship with fellow pop singer Nicole Appleton (Raechelle Banno) of All Saints, something Williams has long been vocal about, is also a credit to all involved. That said, the balance between those tragedies and the exhilarating scenes of monkey Williams performing often feels off. It makes sense as the character is deeply ambivalent about success at that time. Additionally, it feels more than a bit callow to want more of the fun stuff at the expense of reality. Still, it is a credit to Gracey and the CGI team that they make the musical moments enjoyable enough one does feel like indulging a bit in their callow side.

Better Man struts into limited theatres Christmas Day before opening wide January 10.

Better Man Trailer: