There's a reason everyone is talking about that Britney Spears documentary right now. Tuning in to Framing Britney Spears, I was struck by one of the main messages of the film: we need to take a serious look at how we treat famous women.
I say treat in the present tense, because many may view this documentary as an excuse to flippantly dismiss the tabloid culture of the late '90s and early 2000s. Before Instagram existed. Before zoom lenses in our pockets, before celebrities could present their own image to their fans without a tabloid cover or a late-night talk show interview.
In many ways, we've carried over our tendency to vilify famous women in 2021, it just doesn't look like a tabloid magazine anymore. It looks like social media trolling and the instant gratification of leaving a nasty comment on a celebrity's profile. I didn't just think of Britney when I watched the documentary. I thought of Billie Eilish, of Miley Cyrus, of Taylor Swift, of Jameela Jamil, of Lizzo, and others. The women forced to defend their careers because someone decides the narrative of them being a villain is more entertaining.
Framing Britney Spears is split into two acts. The first is to explore the pop star's career in retrospect, pointing out how the scrutiny she received was sexist and unfair. The second act is about her conservatorship, the fans-turned-activists who are attempting to solve her injustices and exposing the details of her father, Jamie Spears' conservatorship. In just over an hour long, it shows us a side of Britney many may have ignored.
The wider message of the documentary is control, something Spears tries to grasp as tightly as she can as she begins her music career. From what we hear about her family, her dad Jamie was primarily concerned with money, and may not have had her best interests at heart.
The documentary features archival footage, shown in chronological order of her career, and a variety of talking heads: journalists, lawyers and even a paparazzi photographer. It feels as balanced as it could have been without the long list of people who either declined or did not respond to requests for interviews.
Part of what makes the documentary such a moving watch is that it could have easily gone down the wrong road. Instead, Framing Britney Spears views like a well-reported film rather than a shocking true crime documentary-like Tiger King. It leaves the viewer questioning the ethics of believing the characters we're fed by the tabloids.
It's an emotional watch for anyone who lived through the headlines and especially for fans who grew up with her music. As much as Britney fought for control of her decisions early on, it's heartbreaking to see her call for control was drowned out by the louder voices of the people who wanted to capitalise on her downfall.
Overseas media have pulled apart the now-infamous clips shown in the documentary, like ABC's Diane Sawyer pressing Britney on what she did to hurt Justin Timberlake so much, and a TV host asking if she had a boyfriend when she was a young girl. Timberlake has since issued an apology for his part in how she was treated in the aftermath of their breakup.
Viewing the clips in the context of the documentary, in contrast with the headlines which will eventually become ingrained in our memory of popular culture, they're even more shocking.
I remember seeing the image of Britney's shaved head for the first time. I was just 10 years old, and I bought into the headlines I saw in a newspaper in front of me: at the time, I likely thought she was crazy too.
Before Britney, there was Princess Diana, and after her there was Miley Cyrus, and Meghan Markle. All achieved phenomenal levels of fame, and all were spectacles who had millions invested in their apparent wrongdoings.
It's one part of psychology I don't understand, even as someone who writes about entertainment news for a living. Why are we so glued to stories about people failing? Do we fully understand the impact of the narratives we buy into with our attention?
The aftermath of how Britney was seen by the media contributed to the loss of control, and thanks to the activism from her fans and the #FreeBritney movement, we're beginning to see the pop star get her control back. Social media meant Britney had a way to get her messages out without doing interviews. But we may never know the real Britney, which the film does a great job of pointing out. And we don't know if she'll ever be fully freed from her conservatorship.
"I remember on our first meeting as a team, we all promised we wouldn't make fun of her [Britney] in the piece, ever," the director of the documentary, Samantha Stark, told the Herald recently. The film didn't need to make fun of her, because we've already spent most of her career doing that.
Framing Britney Spears has certainly sparked conversations about fame, control, and misogyny. Where its power lies is in pushing the conversation of treating celebrities fairly to the forefront of our minds, especially those who are minorities and people of colour.
"My question is which woman is next, there is always one," Actress and founder of I Weigh Jameela Jamil wrote on her Twitter recently. We are still stuck with the need to put a female celebrity on a pedestal, only to grab the popcorn and wait for her to go crashing down.