Better Man (4½ Stars)

Have you ever had one of those days when you feel you're going to see the wrong film? When I arrived at the cinema today it was packed. The queue was so long that it stretched out of the foyer and into the entrance area. That always warms my heart. I'm happy to see cinemas doing well. Cinema attendances took ages to recover after the Corona pandemic.

But what were the people going to see? At the door where the tickets were checked, almost everyone headed straight on to watch "Nosferatu" on the largest screen downstairs. I was one of a few who went up the stairs to watch "Better Man". In fact, the theatre upstairs was almost empty. There couldn't have been more than twenty of us watching "Better Man". That's understandable. Robbie Williams was a big star in Britain, but only moderately popular abroad. In America he was almost unknown.

Nevertheless, those of us who sat watching "Better Man" were greatly entertained.

It was moving for me to see Robbie's childhood in the streets of Stoke-on-Trent. It was an important city for me in my teenage years, and the scene of one of the most dramatic events of my life. It was the place where I attempted suicide when I was 18. It was something I'd been planning for weeks. I never talked about it to anyone. I always say that people who talk about suicide won't go through with it. It's just a cry for help. There's nothing wrong with that. People who want help shouldn't be ashamed of asking for it.

I took a train to Stoke-on-Trent in the morning. I was careful not to carry anything with me that would identify me. I went onto a hill overlooking the city and swallowed a packet of rat poison, washing it down with lemonade. It had a bitter taste, difficult to swallow. Then I sat watching boys playing football lower on the hill, until I grew tired. Eventually I lay down to sleep, happy in the knowledge that I would never wake up.

But I did wake up. I don't know how long I'd been sleeping. I didn't have a watch with me. The sun was still shining, but it was summer, so it could have been two hours later. I don't know. I didn't feel bad, so I went to the train station and travelled home.

In the evening I was watching television with my mother, as if nothing had happened. Then I developed stomach cramps, so I told her what I'd done. An ambulance came. In hospital my stomach was pumped. I was told that I was very lucky. Lucky? I considered myself unlucky. I was surrounded by people asking me why I'd done it. That was a nightmare. I never told anyone the truth, even when I spent six weeks in a lunatic asylum.

I'd attempted suicide because of my mother. Growing up we'd always been close. She wasn't just a mother, she was my best friend. That changed in my mid teens. She became addicted to alcohol. She was drunk every night when she came home, and it was impossible to talk to her. This broke my heart. I'd lost her. Death was the only way out.

But I survived. Things didn't get better with my mother, but I carried on. Two years later she left my father to live with another man. I felt like she was leaving me, not him. Ironically, she never moved in with the man. They rented a small apartment together, but he got cold feet at the last moment and didn't leave his wife. I still thought about suicide, but I didn't try it again. I was terrified that I'd fail again. The aftermath of a suicide attempt is awful.

One thing though. I never returned to Stoke-on-Trent. I had friends there, but I never visited them again. I've avoided it all my life. It was emotional to see the city today. It gave me a feeling of melancholy.

I could hardly bring myself to write a review. I've backdated this post to January 5th, the day I went to the cinema, but I'm writing it a week later. I needed time to overcome myself.