With all these new #BritneySpears documentaries out, I'm asking myself: Did Britney participate in any of them? Did she consent to them? Did she want them to exist? Does anyone care?
/a thread
The answer to the first two questions is NO. She did not participate, or grant her approval. And while I'm sure the documentary film-makers would have preferred that she gave them her approval, when they didn't, they ploughed ahead anyway. Is that OK?
When the filmmakers @rodblackhurst and @brimcgi approached me about the film that became the Netflix documentary "Amanda Knox," they told me they'd interviewed dozens of people, they'd been in Perugia, covering the case for years...
but even given all that investment, they told me they wouldn't make the documentary without my participation. That was the opposite of the usual coercive treatment I've been given by filmmakers: "We're telling your story; don't miss your chance to have your say in it."
And it's a large reason why I participated in their film. They had the ethical sense to understand that I would be deeply impacted by that film, and that my consent and participation mattered. They decided it was better to make no film than one without me.
Now, in Britney's case, it's complicated, because her own voice and authorship of her life has been silenced and limited by the conservatorship. Doc filmmakers rightly worry that their requests for an interview may never reach her, that they get blocked by the gatekeepers.
And there are many arguments to be made that these films are to Britney's benefit--they help her cause, they raise awareness of the injustice she's suffered. All that may be true. They still didn't include her or get her approval to tell a story about her.
How does Britney feel about that? In February, after the NYT documentary Framing Britney Spears, she wrote "No matter what we think we know about a person's life it is nothing compared to the actual person living behind the lens."
But these films have such good intentions! Right? The director of #BritneyVsSpears is an admitted fan, who cares deeply for what Britney has gone through. She truly hopes Britney likes the film, she told the LA Times.
And she took pains to not cause harm by refusing to include footage Britney has said is traumatizing.
That kind of respect is worth admiring in a doc filmmaker. But for me, there's still the issue of consent. The director justifies making this film without it like this: "She wants to get out of the conservatorship, so therefore we should know what is going on inside it."
It's a compelling argument. It's not obviously wrong or unethical. Britney has been silenced. She has expressed that she wants out. This film, and others, are aiding her cause. Is that the same as consent? Did Britney need or want these filmmakers to tell her story this way?
One critic notes that nothing has been more powerful than when Britney spoke directly:
"the sound of her own voice describing her desperation...fear and anger stops me in my tracks, more than any other interview or document ever could."
It's not surprising to me that Britney's own testimony would be more powerful than these documentaries telling a story about her, without her voice or approval.
Did we need these documentaries? Did Britney? Or has she been the prime force to win the battle over ending her conservatorship, without the need for all of us cheer from the sidelines?
And perhaps the most central question: Why is Britney's private legal battle in the public interest? This isn't a concert, or an album. It's not designed as a piece of entertainment, but our hunger is relentless.
Once a person becomes a public figure, should every facet of their life be fair game for infotainment? I'd like to live in a world where Britney, and Britney alone, gets to decide if she wants her personal legal drama to serve as your next Netflix binge.
All that said, I'm not condemning the film-makers who have covered this incredible story. I just think it's worth pausing to ask the questions I've asked here, and whether we should treat the next person, and the next, like we've treated Britney her entire life.
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When I arrived in Perugia as a 20-year-old, I was sexually active, but pretty sheltered. I could count my intimate partners on one hand.
But when I was accused of murder, my rather unremarkable sexuality was distorted and magnified into something deviant.
/ a short thread
They painted me as a femme fatale, and the courtroom and the media ignored the lack of evidence and focused on things like the joke vibrator a friend had bought me, or what underwear I purchased. All to support a fantastical theory about a sex game gone wrong.
The misdirected focus on my sexuality was one the things that bothered me most about the trials. I could have been a professional dominatrix and it shouldn't have mattered. That still wouldn’t make me a killer.
It's unendingly strange to see my face being used yet again, without my consent, to promote products that defame me, this time an essay by @alicebolin for @vulture.
I'll let the comments to this essay speak for themselves about the argument @alicebolin makes, comparing my recent thoughts on #Stillwater to the #CatPerson controversy.
"Imagine a movie 'inspired by' the Central Park 5 in which it turns out their fictionalized avatars were actually indirectly involved in the rape," this commenter writes. "Would that be justifiable, for fiction's sake?"
I've had so much taken from me already, it's astonishing people still want to restrict my freedom. It happens in many ways, but attempts to shame me for finding humor in my trauma are especially cruel. Laughter of all things? That's what you want to take from me?
/thread
My wrongful conviction by Italian authorities ≠ the murder of Meredith Kercher by Rudy Guede.
Me making a joke about my wrongful conviction ≠ me making a joke about Meredith's murder.
But every time I do joke about my wrongful conviction, I get accused of exactly that.
Why? Because the media tricked you long ago into conflating these two tragedies when, in fact, they are separate tragedies caused by separate actors. The injustice done to me was not an inevitable result of the injustice done to Meredith.
Hi Tom. You say: “Stillwater is a work of fiction and not about her life experience...There were a few entry points that sparked the narrative, including aspects of real-life events, but the story and characters within my latest film are all invented.”
Did you read my Atlantic piece? Because I feel like you’re being disingenuous and evading my point.
Now that I’ve got your attention, I’d like to share a little family story about vaccines and conspiracy theories.
/ a thread
My mom was born in Germany in 1962. When she was about 9 months old, she developed a high fever and a rash. My oma brought her to the doctor, and she was diagnosed with measles.
There was no measles vaccine available yet. That wouldn’t come until the following year. And without it, mortality rates were high, especially for children under five. The measles was twice as deadly as Polio.
Does my name belong to me? My face? What about my life? My story? Why does my name refer to events I had no hand in? I return to these questions because others continue to profit off my name, face, & story without my consent. Most recently, the film #STILLWATER.
/ a thread
This new film by director Tom McCarthy, starring Matt Damon, is “loosely based” or “directly inspired by” the “Amanda Knox saga,” as Vanity Fair put it in a for-profit article promoting a for-profit film, neither of which I am affiliated with.
I want to pause right here on that phrase: “the Amanda Knox saga.” What does that refer to? Does it refer to anything I did? No. It refers to the events that resulted from the murder of Meredith Kercher by a burglar named Rudy Guede.