Yesterday, the wife and I finally got our chance to see “Bohemian Rhapsody” on the big screen and the experience was overwhelming.
In the back of my mind, I thought of the words of my soon-to-be 20-year-old, saying this movie was the closest she ever would come to seeing Live Aid.
And yes, given the choice, I’d happily watch a YouTube of the performance with the full theater Dolby effects in play as Freddie Mercury owned the stage and, likely, large portions of the world that day.
I remember watching Live Aid, staying up past midnight (not a hard chore at 16) to watch the Australian performances – Midnight Oil, of course, but also something called the Electric Pandas. Funny what we remember.
Then a little bit of sleep before Wembley. There were multiple other performances but the one that stuck, the only one that stuck, was Queen. How could it not? Imagine what the emotion would have been had I, in those Internet-less days, had known Freddie Mercury was dying?
No matter. The point is, watching that recreation on the big screen, with the added energy provided by brilliant cinematography … I was moved to tears. The tears of memory. It was all I could do to not raise my own arms for Radio Gaga and sing every word every song …
If I’m honest, I can’t tell you the last time I cried at the movies. For that matter, there’s a decent chance it never has happened.
But it did yesterday. So thank you, Rami Malek. Thank you to everyone who was involved in the project. Thank you Brian May, John Deacon and Roger Taylor.
And thank you, Freddie. Someone still loves you.
