Taylor Swift: the other side of the pop star
The newly released Netflix documentary opens a rare and honest window on what makes this star tick.
I was almost into high school when Taylor Swift started whispering fairy tales in my ear.
"Fearless," her second album, was released when I was 11 years old - full of stories about unrequited crushes, Shakespearean romance, and gallant gentlemen. In "Speak Now," when I was 13, there were prolonged kisses in the rain, dragons to fight with, and kingdoms to save.
Swift was selling escapism and I was an avid customer. Why deal with the mundane reality of adolescence when you could be in a world where the girl stays with the boy?
She is the girl who was then the one who wanted to see "Miss Americana", now available on Netflix. Lana Wilson's documentary follows Swift through the last couple of years, from the era of “Reputation” - her unexpectedly successful sixth pop album - to the creation of “Lover,” her most recent (and much more weightless) production. , released in August.
I was never too interested in what it was like off stage. But over the years, doubts about Swift — her authenticity of hers, her motivations — had been present. She wanted to get clarity about whether a public figure she had supported growing up was as "calculated" as the press had portrayed her.
My concerns were ones you've no doubt heard elsewhere: How genuine was Swift's newfound interest in political commentary? Or her foray into vehement defense of LGBTQ rights? What prevented her from expressing herself before her?
Part of this change, of course, is that I grew up. 10 years ago, I wasn't too interested in Swift's silence on all issues. But as I got closer to voting age, I started to think more critically: what are the implications of someone who has a massive platform and doesn't use it?
What I didn't expect was how genuine the film would feel.
I say this fully aware that I saw only one side of the plot: the documentary focuses exclusively on how Swift sees herself. But there is an unavoidable honesty about "Miss Americana."
There were frank admissions that made me regret the simple ordinary girl life that Swift used to sing about, but that she can never return to. There were conversations about keeping an eating disorder at bay, about sexual assault and seeking justice from a vantage point, about a man breaking into her apartment and sleeping in her bed.
My doubts about her abrupt change to expressing herself in politics and advocating for certain issues were also answered, with Swift's heartfelt pleas to her team that she wanted to be "on the right side of history." Before, Swift had avoided topics that could distance the fanbase from her.
I have long tried to reconcile my sentimentality for my childhood soundtrack with my reluctance to embrace the woman who created it. With this movie, I start to fill in some of the blanks.
"Miss Americana" makes something clear: Swift is not untouchable, as she once seemed to me in concert, when a towering balcony lifted her to the heights, where she floated on a different plane than mere mortals. Now, for an unusual moment, Swift is someone who can be understood. For a distant fan starting to return to the fold, that is worth so much more.
