Unlike movie adaptations of books like The Odyssey and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, critics and audiences rate biopics of music artists dramatically different. Critics seem to use an ambiguous standard for evaluating these films altogether. For instance, despite an accomplished director in Antoine Fuqua, who is responsible for movies like Training Day, the Equalizer trilogy, and Southpaw, his movie, Michael, has a paltry 39 percent from critics on Rotten Tomatoes but a healthy 97 percent from the audience. Sam Taylor-Johnson’s Back to Black sags due to a 35 percent critic rating and an 84 percent audience rating.

Critics’ explanations for their ratings derive from intuitiveness and personal taste, rather than something discovered about flaws in the filmmakers’ techniques, cinematographer’s lighting, or writer’s devices. Critics on Rotten Tomatoes describe Michael as “not a great film” and “revealing little about the person behind the explosive music and electric dance numbers.” Harmony Holiday of 4Columns.org criticizes biopics in general for lacking plots but goes further in her critique of Michael, writing that the film “leans into that ritual of gaudy shorthand, crisis-proofing itself in advance.” I don’t know. I thought Michael Jackson’s hair getting caught on fire was quite the crisis. The film even revealed that the King of Pop nearly died as a result of the accident.

Unlike Michael, a lot of female critics evaluated Back to Black on Rotten Tomatoes, which is a hint that the gender of the biopic’s subject likely influences ratings. Anna Smith of The Rolling Stone UK writes that the film “won’t please everybody, but it is a good, well-made film that tells part of Amy’s story with affection, sensitivity, and a palpable respect for her talent.” Others, though, describe it as a “lazy attempt to capitalize on [the singer’s] success and struggles” and a melodramatic rather than serious depiction of her relationship with her partner. What these reviews have in common is empathy for Amy Winehouse’s travails and admonishment of the filmmakers for falling short of presenting a more realistic and sympathetic portrayal of the singer. The reviews contrast with the critiques of Michael, which all but explicitly state that the film stinks.

Bob Marley: One Love is another film with seesaw ratings. Rotten Tomatoes critics give it 43 percent and the audience a strong 90 percent. It is criticized for lacking discussion of the singer’s infidelity and multiple children, despite both being depicted in the movie. Gregory Wakeman of The National News goes so far as to describe it as “watching a Wikipedia entry come to life” and Marley deserving better. Still, clearly, what critics consider low quality in this subgenre doesn’t coincide with the audience’s taste for these films.

A Complete Unknown, James Mangold’s film about Bob Dylan (starring Timothée Chalamet), more closely aligns in its ratings with 81 percent for critics and 95 for audiences. But as a fellow grad student once commented regarding a single example of contrary data presented by another student: “So what? One [movie] get [sic] some play!” It is worth noting why critics say they like this film: “Timothée Chalamet, Edward Norton singe the screen in beautiful but anodyne musical drama;” “The intimate, tight close-ups during the musical numbers are effective, bringing us face-to-face with Chalamet as he sings;” “A near perfect biopic. The screenplay gives a great insight into the early career of Bob Dylan and doesn't overlook the darker aspects. Timothee Chalamet is brilliant as Dylan while Boyd Holbrook almost steals the show as Johnny Cash.” Outside of the love for Timothée Chalamet here, it seems the audience has an affinity for this subgenre of films that critics haven’t yet tapped into or perhaps even begun to explore. What are they missing that lead to such negative reviews of these films when the audience loves them?  

Recently, my husband and I went to see Nathan Felder’s You Can See Everything, the documentary on Elizabeth Holmes, the CEO of the medical technology company, Theranos, who was convicted of criminal fraud in 2022. The nearly three-hour documentary contains a firsthand account of Holmes’s explanations of her actions and continues through her surrender to prison authorities in May 2023. The all‑access interview occurs in her own home at her invitation, which makes for intimate, engaging, and sometimes tense conversations over the 34-day filming period. The movie industry’s term for this approach is “modern voyeurism,” which stems from a camera technique that has the effect of “[inviting] people to watch what is happening and [encouraging] spectators to walk with the characters.” It aptly conveys the feel of this film, as well as humans’ desire to know. To see for themselves. To satisfy their own curiosity. These elements of movie watching, I believe, are part of what’s missing in critics’ evaluations of biopics.

Scientists explain that “curiosity is the driving force behind our development as individuals.” It is so ingrained that it “helps us learn as babies and survive as adults.” Our immersion in the lives of the real people depicted on screen in biopics and biopic‑adjacent films like You Can See Everything satisfy our curiosity about them and their experiences. Both Rotten Tomatoes’s critic and audience ratings for You Can See Everything stand at 97 percent for this lengthy but engaging documentary. Apparently, even the critics can’t resist being nosy, that is, the chance to climb into someone else’s life to see for themselves what they are all about. 

Similarly, Martin Scorsese’s 2013 film, The Wolf of Wall Street, is based on Jordan Belfort’s autobiography, which covers details of his plea to securities fraud and money laundering in 1999. Belfort reformed his life after prison, becoming a sought-after speaker on the risks of getting caught up in success when investing. The three-hour movie starring Leonardo DiCaprio received 79 percent critics and 83 percent audience ratings on Rotten Tomatoes. Of note here is that while the audience has remained consistent in their ratings of biopics, critics have varied in theirs. 

In addition to story development and character relatability, some critics focus on more technical aspects of the film like close‑up effects, lighting, and scenery. With biopics, however, it seems gender and fandom shape critics’ views of the films. Latent biases may also play a role, as unconscious sentiments about music artists, unfamiliar directors, and relatively new actors seep into the reviews. The performances of new actors like Jaafar Jackson, who plays Michael Jackson in Michael, Kingsley Ben‑Adir as Bob Marley in Bob Marley: One Love, and Marisa Abela as Amy Winehouse in Back to Black frequently go unacknowledged in reviews. Critics do, however, acknowledge the performances of Timothée Chalamet, Leonardo DiCaprio, and Martin Scorsese. So, along with neglecting the role of curiosity in the draw of biopics, critics’ low marks of these films may also be explained by gender, fandom, and latent biases. But there is something even more basic to the allure of biopics.

Remember Michael Jackson’s song, “Human Nature,” written by Steven Porcaro and John Bettis of the music group, Toto? Yeaahhh,you do! In that song, the King of Pop sings of being stimulated by four of the five senses that define who we are as human beings (looking, hearing, tasting, touching) and emphasizes the need we have to be out in the world because “four walls won’t hold [us].” Whether we are born with it or socialized to it, the need to be connected to people is real. Social interaction is crucial to learning, growing, and even feeling alive. Absent this, our physical, cognitive, and psychological muscles shrivel. 

There is a reason that playgrounds have swings and monkey bars. Just as there is a reason for family and neighborhoods. And just as there is a reason a classroom consists of more than one or two students. While the latter may seem like an optimal learning environment, it lacks opportunities to stretch verbal skills, learn collaborative techniques, and develop tolerance for different ways of being and of approaching things. This is yet another value of biopics. It exposes us to Michael Jackson, Amy Winehouse, and Jordan Belfort’s experiences and how those experiences—those journeys—differ from our own or those closest to us.

We know that biopics are flawed. Like book adaptations, filmmakers take creative license and embellish details to make the story more appealing, or perhaps to simply manage to their allotted budget. But if a good portion of the work comports with profiles about the celebrity in credible magazines, 60 Minutes segments, or Oprah interviews, then perhaps making too much hay of the embellishments is the equivalent of picking at a small sore when you can’t see it and it doesn’t itch. 

As I state in our Cup of Tea Critiques review of Back to Black and Michael, we are never quite sure what or how much is fact or fiction in the film. Perhaps, then, the questions can turn to what we glean from the work. Does the film give us reasonable insight into the person’s experiences? And can we take something away from the production that informs our own lives or helps us to reflect on our future? Because at the end of the day, like The Odyssey and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, a biopic is still just a story on film that can teach us something about ourselves.