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| Scene from Miss Americana |
A lot of ink has been spilled on the name of Taylor Swift over the past 15 years. From her early days in country to her shift to pop music, her transparency has made her the source of acclaim and revulsion. But what about the woman behind the words, of an artist whose only job was wanting to be loved by the masses? There's a lot to unpack in director Lana Wilson's Miss Americana, which finds the star at one of her most vulnerable points following the backlash to her "Reputation" album and a need to break her silence on political issues. It's more than a celebration of pop's most successful artist of the 2010s, it's a chance to reveal that no matter how famous people get, their struggles on a human level are universal, reflective of their environment and need to feel like a useful member of society. While she may have more Twitter followers than you, her story dealing with sexual harassment, internet bullying, and Kanye West all create a perspective of a woman just trying to get by. She does so with a power that only takes its truest forms in the third act, becoming one of the most enlightening, essential pop docs of recent years.
Wilson's camera goes further than most camera phones are often allowed. In a rare opportunity, she is welcomed into the inner circle of Swift. She is seen in the studio, singing out ideas with producer Jack Antonoff and collaborator Brendan Urie. She sings the ideas that she has written on her phone, trying to find the missing lines as Antonoff rambles an idea off. There's something joyful about her discovering the final structure of a song. It's even more powerful to see her sit at a piano and play it out, discovering the genius of a performer who has been trained to write, write, write. The final product of these scenes will be the "Lover" album, though the story will proceed to jump around before launch day arrives. This is a story that will not only give people an idea of how producing an album occurs but how Swift sees herself becoming an empowered person, approaching 30, as she feels like she finally understands what matters to her.
There is some emphasis on her beginnings if just to provide a context for the later chapters. The home video gives us performances of her singing as a teenager at clubs, getting the approval of her peers. She seems unstoppable, and it's what propels the first chapter of her story. She is the one artist who transcended the country charts and found love on the pop stations. She won Grammy Awards, sold millions, and has become one of the defining voices of the era with a nonstop barrage of hits. She seemed unstoppable... until the Kanye West moment. Before that, she had one mode: I need to please people. It's how she became successful and to see her perform in that time is to see that smile emerge nightly as she finds a connection. However, there is something missing. It's her, but not one allowed to speak openly about what matters to her. After all, country music is the genre that infamously disowned The Dixie Chicks following Anti-Bush rhetoric. Swift couldn't sacrifice a career in its prime with her beliefs.
Following the Kanye West moment, it felt like the world was shifting. Suddenly when West bum-rushed the stage during her acceptance speech at the MTV Video Music Awards, she became scrutinized. It's one of awards show's most infamous moments now, and the fact that West would later suggest he "made that bitch famous" only reflects misogyny that was in the environment. It's here that Swift begins to feel depression from no longer being able to please. "Reputation" was built like an album addressing her haters in a very vitriolic tone. Suddenly her career was uncertain, and her sudden absence from the spotlight was more of a chance to get away from the backlash than anything else.
Wilson manages to capture Swift during these moments at her most vulnerable. With nobody else to please, how does she love herself? Among the things discussed is her eating disorder, a sexual harassment lawsuit, and the internet bullying her as a pariah. She was just a woman in an unfortunate situation, unable to please people because of the standards put on women in the industry. Any sign of arrogance was to shield herself from the pain that came with the world attacking her. By placing Wilson in the living room of Swift's home, the audience gets to hear those conversations of Swift slowly unraveling before her mother, feeling hopeless. She is able to express herself through music, and yet there's no way to feel like she's validated. She can't speak up because that's not what good country artists do.
If nothing else, the shift in Swift's perspective towards the latter half is something that all 20-somethings faced during the past five years. With the 2016 presidential election, there was a division politically in America, and suddenly people became activists almost out of necessity if just to save the country from potential peril. To watch Swift finally find self-actualization is to find her approaching her 30's and discovering that she needs to have something of value socially in order to have any staying power. To see her plan a Twitter post regarding Tennessee resident's need to vote is to see a woman experiencing her last moments of repression. As her publicist hits 'Send', there is a joy through the room that things will change. It's not dangerous in the way that she's changing image, but that she finally feels like she said something meaningful.
As much as this is autobiographical to Swift's life, it feels like a story that's essential to the moment. It's about a woman who is only beginning to understand that with her larger-than-life platform that she must use it to better the world. It will come with several hurdles, but to see her stumble now and then only makes her more human. Suddenly "Lover" seems like more than another random album. It feels like a commentary on her desire to become more vocal about her desires for women's and gay rights. She is beginning to feel more human because she's not out to please everyone. She merely wants to please herself with messages of love that will make her feel valuable. She's not young and reckless anymore. She's a statesman for the music industry, and she better use that platform well.
One doesn't need to love Swift's music to appreciate this, but it doesn't hurt. This is the story of struggling to find yourself in your 20s and discovering what your self-worth is. It's more than producing love songs to the general public of adoring fans. It's about making something that matters to you, making every note feel like it comes from someplace personal. Miss Americana shows that just because Swift is more popular than you, it doesn't mean that she escapes problems rampant in modern culture. If anything, her life condenses those issues on a global stage and makes them feel like a time capsule not only of her growth as a person but how the world needs to better itself. This doesn't end with a satisfactory note of her achieving all of her goals. It's more the start of her wanting to get there, and no celebration feels as exciting as this.
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