Reece Beckett’s review published on Letterboxd:
Marginally better than the convenient comparison point that is Bohemian Rhapsody in so far as this isn’t directed by someone who touches children. It’s just as afraid to take risks (sure, it’s more explicit, but explicit content isn’t a real risk, come on) in just about every compartment. One of those films that limps along for the majority and stumbled across the finish line - lazy, ugly and hardly passable.
I mean, come on, this is literally produced by Elton John and his current husband. Anything remotely risky, if it was ever even penned (seems unlikely), was most definitely removed. Why even bother to make a film that acts as little more than an overlong ego stroke and crappy “best of” album?