Meet The Movement Coach Who Helped Rami Malek Transform Into Freddie Mercury
Watching Bohemian Rhapsody through the eyes of dancer, there's a certain element of the movie that's impossible to ignore: Rami Malek's physical performance of Freddie Mercury. The way he so completely embodies the nuances of the rock star is simply mind-blowing. We had to learn how he did it, so we called up Polly Bennett, the movement director who coached him through the entire process.
In a bit of serendipitous timing, while we were on the phone, she got a text from Malek that he had just been nominated for a Golden Globe. And during our chat, it became quite clear that she had obviously been a major part of that—more than we could have ever imagined.
What Exactly Is a Movement Director?
Although the profession seems to be more common in the UK than in the US, movement direction is the oversight of the "physical life" of productions, says Bennett.
"It can expand from things like actual choreography and scene changes and character work—if someone's playing something far away from them like a pregnant or disabled character—to working with the actors on character choices and identity tricks," she says. Bennett has worked as a movement director on everything from productions by the Royal Shakespeare Company to plays on the West End to TV shows like "The Crown."
How Movement Direction Differs from Choreography
Working with actors rather than dancers, a movement director's primary goal is to enable performers to do what's asked of them, rather than just setting movement phrases.
"You're creating a dialogue between the actor and their character, so it's a lot of research about the world in which the story is told," says Bennett. That includes everything from the temperature of the place to the rhythm of life there to what it's like to walk on that landscape. "You have to be able to offer information to the actors so that their imagination goes wild."
The Biggest Challenge on Bohemian Rhapsody
Bennett was brought on to coach Malek just after he was offered the part of Freddie Mercury. "I had to find out ways to make this impossible task possible for an actor with very limited experience in movement," she says. "Everyone says Freddie Mercury was the world's greatest performer—that can ruin an actor's imagination. Because how can you actualize that? That's not a very helpful thought."
To make it happen, Bennett set to work investigating why Mercury moved the way he did so that Malek's movement could be spontaneous, not choreographed. She found out biographical details: Mercury had been a boxer growing up, he was an excellent long distance runner and enjoyed playing golf. "I could work with Rami to get him to run for a long time, get him to box, get himself limber and agile and able to change direction very quickly like a boxer does," she says. "That way he could use his body as if he'd lived in Freddie's body for 30 to 40 years."
The film covers a span of 16 years, so Bennett and Malek also had to investigate how Mercury's movements changed over time. "Freddie's discovery of being a gay man means his relationship to people changed," explains Bennett. "You look at him in the '70s and his movements are quite flaunted and pose-y, then you look at him in 1985 where he's really grounded into the floor, and very, very athletic."
What It Was Like Re-creating that Iconic Live Aid Concert
The film ends with Queen's 21-minute set at Live Aid in 1985, which might be one of the most famous rock performances of all time. The producers wanted to create an exact replica, a task that Bennett says was "mental."
That's because she had to identify and articulate to Malek every time Mercury turned his head, stepped over the microphone, clapped his hands, made eye contact with a band member, wiped his forehead—none of it on particular counts of the music. And none of it could look choreographed, because it wasn't.
"Rami says he watched the concert video 1,000 times. I guarantee I beat him on that one," says Bennett, laughing.
She studied the footage to find reasons why Mercury would make certain movements when he did so that Malek could make it look natural. "And then some things have absolutely no reason whatsoever and that's really difficult—he's stepping over the microphone lead, turning around and unwrapping the microphone lead without touching it with his hands. It's mad!"
Bennett jokes that she and Malek now know every second so well that they can bring the whole set out as a party trick for the rest of their lives. (We want to be at their Christmas party!)
Bennett's Advice for Other Dancers Interested in Movement Coaching
Having grown up training in dance, Bennett recommends that dancers interested in this line of work start by simply being inquisitive about their own physical process. "There are other ways of looking at the things you know as a dancer," she says. "There's a role to look after people's bodies, and it takes someone who knows how to talk about movement. Just because you're not a dancing dancer doesn't mean you don't have something to give."
- See Rami Malek Talk Learning Freddie Mercury Moves, Singing on ... ›
- How Rami Malek Learned to Move Like Freddie Mercury ... ›
- 'You Better Own This': How Rami Malek Came To Embody Freddie ... ›
- How Rami Malek Found His Inner Freddie Mercury | Vanity Fair ›
- Rami Malek on Becoming Freddie Mercury - YouTube ›
In the middle of one of New York City Center's cavernous studios, Misty Copeland takes a measured step backwards. The suggestion of a swan arm ripples before she turns downstage, chest and shoulders unfurling as her legs stretch into an open lunge. She piqués onto pointe, arms echoing the sinuous curve of her back attitude, then walks out of it, pausing to warily look over her shoulder. As the droning of Ryuichi Sakamoto and Alva Noto's mysterious "Attack/Transition" grows more insistent, her feet start to fly with a rapidity that seems to almost startle her.
And then she stops mid-phrase. Copeland's hands fall to her hips as she apologizes. Choreographer Kyle Abraham slides to the sound system to pause the music, giving Copeland a moment to remind herself of a recent change to the sequence.
"It's different when the sound's on!" he reassures her. "And it's a lot of changes."
The day before was the first time Abraham had seen Copeland dance the solo in its entirety, and the first moment they were in the studio together in a month. This is their last rehearsal, save for tech, before the premiere of Ash exactly one week later, as part of the opening night of City Center's Fall for Dance festival.
Back in 2011 when Joe Lanteri first approached Katie Langan, chair of Marymount Manhattan College's dance department, about getting involved with New York City Dance Alliance, she was skeptical about the convention/competition world.
"But I was pleasantly surprised by the enormity of talent that was there," she says. "His goal was to start scholarship opportunities, and I said okay, I'm in."
Today, it's fair to say that Lanteri has far surpassed his goal of creating scholarship opportunities. But NYCDA has done so much more, bridging the gap between the convention world and the professional world by forging a wealth of partnerships with dance institutions from Marymount to The Ailey School to Complexions Contemporary Ballet and many more. There's a reason these companies and schools—some of whom otherwise may not see themselves as aligned with the convention/competition world—keep deepening their relationships with NYCDA.
Now, college scholarships are just one of many ways NYCDA has gone beyond the typical weekend-long convention experience and created life-changing opportunities for students. We rounded up some of the most notable ones:
Dancers are understandably obsessed with food. In both an aesthetic and athletic profession, you know you're judged on your body shape, but you need proper fuel to perform your best. Meanwhile, you're inundated with questionable diet advice.
"My 'favorite' was the ABC diet," says registered dietitian nutritionist Kristin Koskinen, who trained in dance seriously but was convinced her body type wouldn't allow her to pursue it professionally. "On the first day you eat only foods starting with the letter A, on the second day only B, and so on."
"The show must go on" may be a platitude we use to get through everything from costume malfunctions to stormy moods. But when it came to overcoming a literal hurricane, Houston Ballet was buoyed by this mantra to go from devastated to dancing in a matter of weeks—with the help of Harlequin Floors, Houston Ballet's longstanding partner who sprang into action to build new floors in record time.