THE MOMENT is wise enough to know that the standard for a satire about the music industry has already been set, and any attempts to impinge on SPINAL TAP’s brilliance is a fool’s errand at best. Hence, this deep dive into the Brat Summer of Charlie XCX goes in a different direction, not one that ignores the inherent absurdity of a business that sells an anti-establishment product, but rather one that parses out the miniscule increments by which an artist can let slip her vision in pursuit of longevity in a business notorious for not offering that kind of job security. Or is it a question of artistic growth? Or is it a combination? Hmmm. It’s brash without being bombastic and just raw enough to respect Charlie’s fans without leaving the rest of us behind.
We start in September of 2024, when Charlie, playing herself in a film that was all her idea, is being hailed as a generational musician with the release of her breakthrough album, Brat, the one that raised her from a niche musician playing to an audience hankering for illegal raves, recreational drugs, and the exuberant rebellious rage of hormonal youth. Her label, Atlantic, personified by Tammy (Rosanna Arquette) as an iron fist in a spiked glove, wants to capitalize on the album with an arena world tour and a film by an auteur Johannes (Alexander Skarsgård), whose vision is as edgy as a Hallmark card. It’s the beginning of the end of Charlie’s beginning, and no one, least of all Charlie, is ready.
A mass of hair and bemusement, Charlie proves herself to be a thespian force with which to be reckoned as she comes to grips with what it means to be backed by a major label. Decisions are made before she knows there is a question, the people who have been with her for years are suddenly not central to her life, sparking a bewilderment that has not quite found its voice. A conversation with her wardrobe guy goes from empathy to freeze to tantrum forever altering their relationship. The shift in dynamics is a gut punch beneath a seemingly casual conversation that goes wrong as Charlie navigates her new reality and has a visceral reaction to not being prepared for it. The transition from artist to product is reflected in the way she takes a drag on a cigarette while asking why there are so many people around her, or the sincerity with which she tries to stay focused on the legalese being spouted by a lawyer before a launch event promoting a partnership with stodgy bank. The disquisition on what “verbal consent” means is a tidy bit of business that beautifully encapsulates the new world in which Charlie is operating.
Guiding her through this is Tim, played by Jamie Demetriou in a decisively ragged comic turn as an ineffectual manager who stutters his way through one embarrassment after another. The others in her orbit are more forceful, starting with Celeste (Hailey Benton Gates), the creative director of all of Charlie’s shows who battles Johannes for Charlie’s artistic soul, an effort that includes keeping the strobe lights and naughty words and culminates with an objection to dangling the singer 40 feet in the air. Skarsgård with a bland smile, a blank stare, and deliberately unstudied fashion choices, nails the creepy vibe that masks someone that has mastered unctuousness as the ultimate passive-aggressive weapon. He’s a buffoon that might turn homicidal at any moment.
Peopling the landscape are assistants with cult-like smiles plastered to their faces, preening underlings scrambling for credit, and an avuncular driver who hasn’t heard of Charlie but sure likes music in general. There is the feel of being an insider, and not just because of the hand-held camera. While we are never quite sure who is filming this documentary withing a documentary, it does little to detract from the pleasure of watching a girl from Essex calling bullpucky on a holistic facialist (Arelle Dombasle) at an exclusive spa, dealing with an effusive fan who wants her to be his therapist, or musing on what Brat meant, means, and should mean in the future.
The turning point in THE MOMENT is as unexpected as it is pointed. Charlie, seeking relief from the tension of her life, runs into Kylie Jenner at that exclusive spa and the ensuing conversation, shallow plastic on one side, authentic commitment on the other, brings home to our heroine the line she is about to cross in order to keep her brand going beyond Brat Summer. It’s simultaneously hilarious and poignant, not unlike the film itself. It’s so well executed that I can’t say for certain if Kylie was in on the joke or not, but it doesn’t matter. What we have here is a delightful and thoughtful delectation on the eternal struggle between art and commerce, and yes, the irony of making a film about an artist who doesn’t want to compromise to reach a wider audience doing just that. You don’ have to be a fan of Charlie’s to enjoy the joke.
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