“Based on a True Story” is the sound of the hushing of an audience, scooting closer to the screen, the mere suggestion of reality adding gravity to a largely fictional script. Biopics, or biographical films, have swept theaters and Academy Awards in recent decades and aren’t dying down anytime soon. Their immense popularity and the sensationalism within them raise questions of the morality of truth-bending toward a fictionalized, romanticized reality. Adjustments can be as innocent as condensing timelines or as dangerous as glorifying and reinforcing the tortured artist persona. Do we risk forever remembering a warped, romanticized version of the person or event? Can we guarantee integrity and justice to a person’s true essence if they cannot contribute or consent? These films by definition fabricate lots of drama to add substance, exaggerating the details of struggles they clearly do not have the full story on, which leads audiences to confusing fiction with reality and honoring an idealized version of its protagonist.
The general consensus is to have a healthy balance of artistry and accuracy, but that leaves a great deal of subjectivity, which can be harmful when the audience fails to recognize that many creative liberties will be taken. Basing a film on a true “story” already suggests the bias even in a primary retelling due to individual experience and the imperfect human memory. The way we retell even a factual story, we naturally leave out unimportant details and frame and exaggerate according to the narrator’s bias, which is then reworked still into an even more stretched version by screenwriters and directors not directly connected to the true events. Restructuring a person’s lifelong timeline into a ninety-minute narrative shapes each element as leaning toward a single goal, defined by a third party, setting up foreshadowing and cause and effect that likely did not occur.
“There is no way of creating a 'story' out of the ramshackle events of the real world without imposing a level of order that was not there in actuality.” -Brian McFarlane
Screenwriters and directors will not always have historical integrity in their best interest, but rather the product and sensation, which endangers the memory into a distorted rewrite.
The sudden fascination with biopics could be attributed to a number of factors, including a glimmering alternative to other means of sifting through libraries of information to research a figure. For many contemporary icons in the Digital Age, facts and fiction in headlines blur into one public reputation, so people will instead entrust a mass-produced film to consume as entertainment and accept it as fact. Jean Petrolle recognizes this modernizing sense of identity as she refers to the anthology The Biopic in Contemporary Film Culture, in which several contributors address that all contemporary biopics are wrestling with the Digital Age “with greater and lesser degrees of self-consciousness.”
Biopics of still-living figures “naturally highlight the postmodern biopic’s awareness that ‘reality’ and ‘identity’ are, at this point in history, always already mediated by televisual and digital representation.” -Jean Petrolle
Therefore, when visualizing a living subject, contemporary biopics attempt to also capture “how that subject pictures himself and/or how he is pictured by the barrage of media that produces celebrity.” This is an important awareness for a biopic to have because it observes the disconnect between media perception and reality, but still likely cannot unmask that reality themselves.
Another appeal of biopics could be the way they create a collective viewing experience when many people have a personal connection to the protagonist or original story, to which they can adjust or compare perceptions with the newly accepted mainstream version of its history. Biopics can leave an audience feeling like they knew these characters based off of real people, discovering that the people they idolize were shaped by real formulative events, overcoming obstacles and tragedy, even when it is far-fetched from the truth. Their impersonator may choose to be thorough and consult people who really knew their dialogue and mannerisms, or they may perpetuate the publicized image we already know.
“When it comes to our most cherished icons, oblique is better than straight on. Characterization surpasses caricature. Interpretation transcends impersonation. The more abstract the aesthetic choices -- the more the audience is encouraged to acknowledge rather than ignore the gap between performer and subject -- the better the chances that a movie will avoid Wiki-ready narratives and "Walk Hard"-worthy cliches and become a thoughtful, densely layered, vividly specific portrait.” -Ann Hornaday
In further support of interpretability, Jim McDermott emphasizes the importance of characterization over facts.
“It's always about getting to the deep and fertile core of a person or event, about offering not a history lesson but a moment of encounter, an opportunity to ‘meet’ them."
Artistic liberties can transform the subject, and it may not always be a bad thing when the audience recognizes the variability as an adaptation.
In the 2018 Queen biopic Bohemian Rhapsody, Rami Malek exemplifies an actor wholly dedicated to a true rendering of his character, Freddie Mercury, closely studying Mercury’s lyrics and writings as well as tracking down “every last bit of archival footage, from Top of the Pops appearances to scratchy camcorder recordings” (Brady). This is a valiant and necessary effort for portraying such a dynamic and well-known character, but according to his biographer Lesley-Ann Jones, even with Malek’s impressive portrayal, there were still shortcomings to the accuracy of the film itself. In the trailers, Mercury is seen flirting with women, but nothing is indicated of his queer pride, which is fundamental for his image as an unconventional and revolutionary performer against all stigmas. The softened Hollywood spectacle failed to capture the “warts-and-all account of Freddie that we craved”, toning down the “sex and drugs” and understating or omitting many outrageous accounts and eccentricity (Jones).
Each personal history is so interlocking, and only the source material can see the connections between independent events and the way they are rooted within each other. An essential aspect to someone’s backstory, knowing how it affected them and how they perceive their self, could be lost in translation and forever misremembered by the rest of the world as we attempt to analyze them from a distorted biopic.
Both in leaving out small characteristics and dramatizing others, “if you deny people their everydayness, you deny them the full spectrum of their humanity. What I am suggesting is that in real life the individuating moments in 'actual events' can be just as readily located in the banalities as in the major action, and that not many filmmakers examine such moments, which are revealing for their own sake even if they don't promote the forward march of narrative causation.” -Brian McFarlane
The consequences of innocent and intentional censorship may never extend beyond the subject’s own peace of mind, but this could have further implications with our responsibility and obligation to the truth.
Perceived “banalities” may also include choices to exclude controversial aspects seen as nonessential to the story, such as religion or homosexuality, but these also deny humanity, sanding down the rough edges that make the person unique to make them more relatable for more audiences. Or, worse yet, leaving out devout religious or political beliefs that may have been central to a person’s philosophy may unintentionally pursue an agenda or bias the filmmakers and subject do not share.
Barriers of privilege may prevent filmmakers from recognizing their own bias, creating “political blind spots” that make them susceptible to “racist ideologies, gender stereotypes, and irritating myths (like the artist as tortured and self-destructive genius)” (Petrolle). As a prime example, there are notable discrepancies in narrative between biopics of male versus female artists. Dennis Bingham, author of “Whose Lives Are They Anyway?” characterizes the classical female biopic by “madness, hysteria, sexual dependency, the male gaze, and a patriarchal authorship”. Perpetuating stereotypes of lovestruck women with lives centered around men, female success stories get diluted into romance plots. In an essay from The Biopic in Contemporary Film Culture, “Vincendreau examines three Coco Chanel biopics with plots that focus on Chanel's ‘failed’ romances, sidelining the designer's creativity, success, and social power” (Petrolle). Additional essays have similar conclusions, noting the exploitation of love and ambition to construct a hysterical female, failing to imagine the working woman rather than the image of vulnerability and “suffering tragic love”. Bias blindness and deliberate ignorance lead to misrepresentation and the perpetuation of stereotypes. Dramatization and selectivity with these portrayals, whether malicious or not, are prime examples of the dangers of nonconsensual biographies.
Perhaps the moral obligation is to ask for permission and validation, but who owns a history? How many people is enough to ask, and whose memory of the person is truest and most deserving of implementation? More and more often, films have started serving as tributes of celebrities after their death, in which cases the subjects of their respective biographies cannot consent nor comment on their own representation. In films based on less significant figures or stories, few people will know the better, so more likely the larger the scope and impact, the more fear the filmmakers will have of complaints if people disagree by personal experience. For example, tackling a large, collective historical memory or story will stir a lot more controversy if done improperly than a small story that people feel like they are learning source material from.
Victims of misrepresentation may never be heard or listened to without a societal passion for truth. The family that inspired The Sound of Music was displeased with their own portrayal in the film, “irritated by the simplification of the story, about being represented as people who only sang lightweight music, and by the alterations to their father's personality” (McFarlane). Historically, the public’s perception of this man will not change the larger story, but for an individual family, this story represented their lives and meant a great deal, enough to protest in their obituaries.
Films have the power to smear someone’s image, but they can also idealize an imperfect person. While this may not stir as many complaints from the source material, perhaps there is a journalistic obligation to avoid sugar-coating as well, creating pedestals for unreliable heroes. One of the earliest examples includes the 1967 film Bonnie and Clyde which romanticizes their villain protagonists, joining them on power trips but often without showing the trauma it leaves their victims with, even occasionally ridiculing the victims. As reported by Bryan Alexander’s USA Today article, screenwriter John Fusco protests the “beyond inaccurate” oafish portrayal of legendary lawman Frank Hamer in the original film. “Frank Hamer was not the mustache-twirling evil buffoon portrayed in Bonnie and Clyde. He was arguably the greatest law officer of the 20th century". Hamer’s death in 1955 prevented him from seeing the film himself, which perhaps made it easier to distort his character, but his widow reportedly sued Warner Bros. for defamation as a “buffoonish villain” and received an out-of-court settlement. The public may finally shift their perception of Hamer with the new film perspective in Highwaymen, which flips the narrative onto the side of the law, but the earlier consequences of defamation remain, perhaps suggesting that heavily fictionalized villains should be given new names and qualities altogether.
As the inverse, modern disclaimers of “This is a work of fiction” as a liability respond to the sense of fear that biopics dance upon, ensuring no one overanalyze connections that aren’t really there rather than leaving it open for interpretation. Are films obligated to provide disclaimers and remnants of truth where they strayed? Perhaps this is their obligation to make up for the lack of imagination in the creation process. In creating a universe, the writer must know the world inside and out, so therefore when tapping into someone’s universe of memory that is set in stone, research should be just as thorough. Many films pay tribute to their inspiration during the credits, assuming people are still watching, which may compare the actors to the actual people, and in some cases meet the gap of discrepancy by clarifying any adjustments made for the film, but more often, it will tell of what events actually happened, implying much of the rest was padding to build a story around it. Biopics rest in the grey between documentaries and fiction, but there’s no clarification of which parts fall into fact versus fabrication.
Ethics of accuracy aside, are we at risk if we stop caring which aspects are true? We may be aware that discrepancies exist, but then don’t bother to determine the truth. Instead, we submissively accept it all as potential truth and shape our perception out of laziness. Why misremember a wholly interesting and dynamic person by avoiding the details that could embody their spirit? Filmmakers and audiences alike must care about and strive for authenticity when the subjects themselves cannot, otherwise we risk passively miseducating on a massive scale, creating memorable but possibly unattainable heroes and neglecting our human flaws and the unpredictability of our narratives.
Works Cited
Alexander, Bryan. "Texas Ranger Who Killed Bonnie and Clyde Gets Film Redemption at Last in 'the Highwaymen'." USA Today (Online), Mar 11, 2019.
"BIOPICS: POPULAR FILM GENRE EVOLVING NOT EXPIRING." US Fed News Service, Including US State News, Mar 02, 2010.
Brady, Tara. "Is this the Real Life, is it just Fantasy?: Rami Malek on Portraying Freddie Mercury in New Biopic ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’, and Early Accusations the Film-Makers were Glossing Over the Queen singer’s Sexuality." Irish Times, Oct 23, 2018, pp. 11.
Hornaday, Ann. "Why Music Biopics so often Fall Flat (Posted 2016-04-08 14:26:39): CRITIC'S NOTEBOOK | Biopics, Impersonation and the Subtle Art of Characterization Vs. Caricature." The Washington Post, Apr 08, 2016.
Jones, Lesley-Ann. "There's a Lot the Film Doesn't Tell You about My Friend Freddie: The New Queen Biopic Bohemian Rhapsody Dodges the Gritty Details of Freddie Mercury's Extraordinary Life, Says His Biographer Lesley-Ann Jones." The Times, Oct 19, 2018, pp. 4.
McDermott, Jim. “Based on a True Story.” America, vol. 212, no. 15, May 2015, pp. 32–34.
McFarlane, Brian. "The Whole Truth and Nothing but the Truth? 'Inspired by a True Story'." Screen Education, no. 64, 2012, pp. 28-36.
Petrolle, Jean. "The Biopic in Contemporary Film Culture." Biography, vol. 37, no. 3, 2014, pp. 797-799,914.
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