I’m Sick of Casting Celebrities in Biopics.
by Evelyn Feldman
I survived Austin Butler as Elvis, Timothee Chalamet as Bob Dylan, and even rumors of Jeremy Allen White as Bruce Springsteen. I hit my limit when, about a week ago, I opened my phone to see a long-awaited biopic on the Beatles played by Joseph Quinn, Barry Keoghan, and Paul Mescal. I actually felt sick.
It’s a cinematic ouroboros—icons consuming icons to pursue cinematic immortality. Is this trend a tribute to legacy or an exercise in ego?
Biopics have become Hollywood’s favorite pastime of casting roulette, where current household names slip into the characters of other household names. When a major star takes on a biopic role, the film becomes more about them than the subject. Austin Butler’s Elvis? Great performance, sure—but it was Butler’s emphasis on “method acting” to play Elvis that dominated the headlines. Ana de Armas as Marilyn Monroe in Blonde? Instead of focusing on Monroe’s life, the conversation spiraled into debates about de Armas’s accent.
Biopics lose their magic when the audience can’t separate the actor from the role. Audiences want to fully immerse themselves in the story and to believe that the actor inhabiting the role is the role. Kristen Stewart in Spencer was heralded as a revelation, but no matter how good she was, she brought the weight of her fame and narrative baggage. We couldn’t help but see Stewart trying to be Diana. Imagine if a fresh, unknown actor had taken on the role—someone whose face wasn’t already plastered across red carpets and tabloid covers. The audience would have had the chance to truly believe in Diana’s story instead of being distracted by the actor’s presence.
And let’s talk about authenticity. Casting an A-lister as a legend often feels more like a business decision than an artistic one. Hollywood banks on big names to secure funding and guarantee ticket sales, turning what should be a celebration of legacy into a calculated cash grab. When you cast an unknown, the story and the life portrayed takes the spotlight. There’s no preconceived notion of who they are, no media frenzy, no star power overshadowing the subject. It’s pure, raw storytelling—how biopics are meant to be. It’s just not as easily marketable when many go for who plays the person as opposed to the person themselves.
When an unfamiliar actor steps into a legendary role, it feels transformative, not performative. Look at Rami Malek as Freddie Mercury in Bohemian Rhapsody. Before the film, Malek wasn’t a household name—he wasn’t carrying the burden of a celebrity persona. Audiences lost themselves in his portrayal, believing they were watching Mercury return to life. It allowed the focus to remain on Mercury’s incredible journey and legacy rather than being distracted by the star playing him. Malek’s authenticity made the film feel like a true celebration of Mercury, not a PR stunt for Hollywood.
By contrast, Hollywood's obsession with casting A-listers in biopics reinforces its worst instincts. It’s lazy, self-congratulatory, and a missed opportunity to bring fresh talent into the spotlight. The industry doesn’t need another Bradley Cooper playing Leonard Bernstein or Jeremy Allen White (sigh) eyeing Springsteen. It requires a jolt of creative risk: new faces and untapped talent.
There’s also a certain arrogance in assuming only an A-lister can “do justice” to an icon. The legends these films celebrate weren’t born famous. They became icons because of their talent, ambition, and ability to connect with people. So why shouldn’t the actors portraying them have the same chance? Instead of recycling the same roster of Hollywood elites, let’s open the door for new voices. Let’s take a chance on someone whose name doesn’t already come with a campaign.
If biopics are meant to honor legacies, Hollywood should reconsider who gets to tell these stories. Perhaps the truest tribute to legends is not a famous face but a fresh one. Biopics necessitate an actor whose talent makes us believe—not their celebrity. Let’s leave the legends to the unknowns. After all, isn’t that how the legends themselves started?