SummaryAs a teenager in the ‘90s, Soleil Moon Frye carried a video camera everywhere she went, documenting her friends as they grew up in Hollywood and New York City. Kid 90 explores how sometimes we need to look back to find our way forward.
SummaryAs a teenager in the ‘90s, Soleil Moon Frye carried a video camera everywhere she went, documenting her friends as they grew up in Hollywood and New York City. Kid 90 explores how sometimes we need to look back to find our way forward.
Though clumsily paced and in need of a little more structure, Soleil Moon Frye’s Kid 90 is an achingly personal insight into what it means to truly understand and connect with your past, disguised as a documentary about the perils and pitfalls of childhood stardom in the blossoming age of technology.
The destination, frankly, is probably less compelling than the journey. But Frye's wide web of contacts offers a compelling window into not only her past, but the very specific cultural moment when it all unfolded.
Not only does it lack coherence, but this ''documentary'' is basically Soleil Moon Frye releasing what could not be published on social media at the time, therefore it's just her ego exposing her private moments, recorded decades ago, in order to believe that someone will be interested in it beyond herself.
Mostly boring. We've seen this story time and again; Hollywood is unkind to child actors for the most part. There some effort to try and address the obvious coming of age vs. biology, but I've always seen it portrayed as worse for girls/women, but it's about the same for boys/men. It's nothing new to show how predatory the entertainment business can be, treating very young and impressionable people as a commodity then throwing them away when they aren't selling tickets. But isn't that how it goes for every actor? People get in to that business for various reasons, but seeking fame is a big one. Not getting it is almost a blessing compared to getting it early and then contending with the loss of it. While I applaud her for opening up about her experiences, I also see it as a desperate grab for what she lost after Punky Brewster and never regained. Even the hamhanded revival of the show smacks of a cash grab, but it opened up the opportunity for her to share this. Overall, it's fairly predictable. Some fun cameos, but some that just come across as contrived. Well-trod ground.
Other documentaries have made this point in grander, more artistic ways, but there is value in seeing this raw footage that accompanies an adolescence spent in front of the camera.
It’s almost as if Frye’s childhood was stolen to some extent by this whirlwind of sensory experiences, rebellion, and dual lives she’s only now able to unpack, interpret, and acknowledge with fresh eyes recontextualizing memory through truth.
In many ways, Frye’s collage only makes sense to its maker, where someone else might have brought enough distance to put all this material in perspective.
Mildly amusing to see child stars doing ecstasy. Beyond that its a parade of white teenagers doing a very privileged version of what most other white teenagers were doing at the time - sex, drugs, gossip. The main difference is the name dropping and alligator tears when they grow to up realize they're just normal people who used to be famous. The novelty wears off quickly.