Robbie Williams isn’t wearing any trousers. Sitting cross-legged on his bed in his LA mansion, the pop star is watching his past self on a dusty laptop: a stream of behind-the-scenes archive footage that moves from the fan-frenzy of Take That to the wildly popular super-tours of his solo era to his painful departure from the heart of the zeitgeist. Why he needs to do this in his pants is unclear. Is it meant to be a metaphor for the intimate, no-holds-barred nature of this documentary series? A nod to the fact that this is Robbie: frank and unfiltered? Or maybe it’s just a sign that Williams is a natural-born exhibitionist (as if we needed another one).
Whatever the reason, the undies can’t help but underline the onanistic vibe. It is mostly Williams in the footage, the only other main character being his on-off songwriting partner Guy Chambers (who filmed most of it). And save a brief appearance from his wife, Ayda Field, there are no other talking heads either. This is Williams on Williams: a claustrophobic, navel-gazing, four-hour-long monologue delivered by Robbie past and present, outlining the depression, anxiety and addiction that accompanied his uber-stardom and has seemingly characterised his entire life.
