Last night I went to watch Bohemian Rhapsody. All plot holes, deviations, over-dramatisation, and unimpressive dialogues aside, I enjoyed the movie. On my right was an unusually calm Queen-crazy trio who didn’t even tap to “We Will Rock You” or croon to “Galileo-Scaramouche”. While on my left was a lovely exuberant couple who kept the mood just the perfect notch of quirky with their comments – be it bad-mouthing the fictional Ray Foster or throwing angry popcorns at Paul Prenter.
I was alone, as usual. Watching movies alone is hands-down the best thing you can gift yourself, especially when it’s a biopic spiced up with your all-time favourite musical masterpieces.
What bothered me then? Why am I writing a post that so far has not the slightest sign of being a review?
It was then some sick ‘homophobe’ behind me kept muttering “What The Fuck” every time Freddie Mercury aka Rami Malek locked lips or eyes or hands with any male in the movie. Not only that, but he also had to squirm and snigger and snort out offensive giggles whenever Malek appeared on the screen dressed in Mercury’s iconic garbs – which we cannot imagine the legend without.
To put this straight – If you cannot accept Mercury’s homosexuality, YOU DON’T DESERVE TO BE A QUEEN FAN. PERIOD.