It’s no secret that Taylor Swift has been “changing.” That she’s been “evolving” to a point where she’s finally comfortable enough to feel unmuzzled about expressing not just passionate opinions of any kind, but, more specifically, political opinions (typically speaking, always the most impassioned of any subject other than religion). It’s a development that many pop culture observers and even fans alike have been waiting for. So that she actually did it–took a stance–is, naturally, a very big deal to her as a result of starting her career in country music, a genre notoriously revered by God-loving and fearing Republicans who just want a pretty little lady to shut up and know her place. For Swift, obliging by keeping her mouth shut in all regards except singing suited her just fine for a while. It was, indeed, what made her America’s sweetheart in a way that someone like pop star rockumentary trailblazer Madonna, publicly outspoken from the outset of a music career rooted in the tenets of punk rock (thanks to her early days in late 70s/early 80s NY spent as a ragamuffin scene queen), never could be. Nor would she want to be–least of all at the cost of censoring herself.
Yet for Swift, approval and “pats on the head,” as she terms them in Miss Americana, were always what she “lived for,” as she admits to her documentarian, Lana Wilson, whose only prior two documentaries have touched on abortion and suicide. So yes, clearly Swift wants to make an announcement to the world that she is officially “political.” That she’s thrown her hat into the ring so as to be on “the right side of history.” Because, as Swift puts it, being a “good girl” has always been at the core of her identity. Yet, ironically, of course, to do so means that she will be villainized as a “bad girl” by her original fanbase and enthusiasts that gravitated toward her for her two-dimensional persona. It was, after all, what allowed neo-Nazis/Aryan fetishists to bill Swift as their “Aryan goddess” for so long before she at last had the gumption to express a goddamn point of view.
And while everything Swift is attempting is all very noble, it’s unclear why she still seems to want a “pat on the head” for it. For there is no doubt that this is what’s emanating from her entire being throughout the documentary. Please take note that I’ve changed, that I’m a better person, I’m good. I’m strong. I’m using my “platform” for making waves. Maybe it shouldn’t matter where someone’s good intentions are coming from so long as they actually execute them, but in Swift’s case, her eagerness and ever so slightly faux earnestness manages to vex more than it endears.
Almost as much as the fact that she felt obliged to screen the movie at Sundance Film Festival the same way Lady Gaga, too, carved out a place for her 2017 narcissism posing as caring documentary, Five Foot Two, at the Toronto International Film Festival. At the very least, Madonna (who chose Cannes Film Festival and lingerie as outerwear for her documentary’s debut) was unabashed about Truth or Dare being a work that put a spotlight on her self-involvement and “bitch” predilections–though Swift claims there’s no such thing as a bitch–all the while actually caring about causes (consistently touching on AIDS, homophobia and discrimination via an authentic interweaving) without making this the crux of the documentary as a means to prove to everyone that she’s a good person. Because when you are good, you don’t need to spend all your time talking about it.
As for Swift’s requisite latching onto the LGBTQ+ community (hear: “You Need to Calm Down”)–the corporate likes of which have latched on right back–it came in the avalanche of her “outspokenness” after publicly coming out against Senate hopeful for the state of Tennessee, Marsha Blackburn. Who would no longer be “hopeful” after becoming the first woman from the state to win a seat in the Senate despite Swift’s very clear message: a vote for Blackburn is a vote for complete devolution to a “horrendous 1950s world.” And a vote for someone who won by “being a female applying to the kind of female males want us to be.” Ummm, pot calling the kettle black much? Look at the majority of yo own damn career. Ah, but still, she’s changing. And that’s what Miss Americana wants you to know. To recognize. It’s no more Miss Nice Swift. Instead it’s a Swift who wears sweatshirts with snakes on them and (gasp!) eats burritos (a scene of which calls attention to the extent of perhaps both her white-breadness and former flirtation with anorexia when she admits to her producer, Joel Little, that she hadn’t tried the delicacy until recently). Alas, she does not, at any point, show Joel how to give head using said burrito… as a certain iconic Evian bottle was wont to receive from a more consistently emboldened pop star.
What’s more, for someone constantly talking about being “as educated as possible on how to respect people,” it sure seems like there’s only a lot of white people in Swift’s camp to “respect” throughout the course of the film. Save for a brief appearance from Todrick Hall getting his nails done by her before they win the VMA for “You Need to Calm Down” as she “subtly” complains that she decided to learn how to do her own manicures when she realized she couldn’t go out in public to get them (it’s all very “Lucky” by Britney Spears). And as she unabashedly tells everyone to vote on the stage after collecting her award, she braces us for Miss Americana’s conclusion: going full-tilt (white) “feminist”–again, only Natalie Portman can successfully pull that shit off. Because, yes, Taylor wants you to see that she has emerged “fully transformed” for her talking head segment to say (as though the lines were rehearsed ad nauseam, mind you). “There is no such thing as a slut. There is no such thing as a bitch. There is no such thing as someone who’s bossy, there’s just a boss. Sorry that was a real soapbox. Why did I say sorry?” Her director offers, “Because we’re trained to say sorry.” Swift agrees, “Yeah we really are.” And then she goes on to record a “resist” anthem called “Only the Young” to assuage her youthful audience that while they might not have gotten the election results she wanted, they still have to keep fighting. In truth, it’s just another instance of the premeditated (we won’t call it “calculated”) vibes of Swift’s “reinvention” that ooze out of the screen at every frame. “Women get discarded in an elephant graveyard by the time they’re 35. The female artists that I know of have reinvented themselves twenty times more than the male artists. They have to. Or else you’re out of a job.” Accurate as that statement may be, why does this sentiment feel like a meta acknowledgement of her own reinvention as “Political Taylor”?
To be sure, Swift might genuinely believe in her own genuineness, but the fact of the matter is, someone with real gumption (Swift claims personal woes with Kanye West forced her into hiding during 2016 when she might have spoken out against Trump) is persistent with it. It doesn’t merely crop up overnight with the excuse that, “There’s this thing people say about celebrities. That they’re frozen at the age they got famous. And that’s kind of what happened to me. I had a lot of growing up to do, just trying to catch up to 29.”
They say better late than never for choosing to be the person you want to become, but something about Swift’s tardy to the activism party arrival smacks of the same mendaciousness she’s been accused of for much of her career. And, contrary to popular belief, the right thing done for the wrong reasons is still, well, wrong. Not to mention that it makes for uncompelling cinema. Without even the offer of some non-clip show styled performance footage.
