It’s FRIDAY!

Oh, but haven’t you heard? Yesterday was Thursday and tomorrow is Saturday… and after that is Sunday! Thank you, 13-year-old Rebecca Black, for keeping us in the loop…

I first saw this video Tuesday night at the prompting of my roommate. At first, I laughed off how mundane the lyrics are (“Kickin’ in the front seat / Sittin’ in the back seat / Gotta make my mind up / Which seat can I take?”). Then I tried to ignore Rebecca’s robotic-looking facial expressions and voice (reminiscent of a bad anti-drug commercial, no?) And then I tried to forget how creepy and voyeuristic I felt watching young teenagers “party”. Despite all these aesthetic deterrents, something brought me back to watch this trainwreck again and again.

Even now, three days later, something about it still gives me the creeps. First, there’s the unnamed Usher look-a-like rapping in his car. I realize that many of today’s pop videos feature young female singers with older male guest-rappers. Still…who is this guy and why isn’t he claiming any sort of fame on a video that’s garnered 2.2 million views? My best guess is that it’s Clarence Jey (below right), co-founder of L.A.’s Ark Music Factory, the producer of this video.

What really makes my skin crawl is the fact that parents are willing to pay up to $20,000 to allow their daughters to make a short-lived music video, the essential purpose of which seems to be to inflame their vanity. Something tells me Rebecca Black would’ve been the first one on Toddlers & Tiaras if only it had existed a decade ago.

Says BlackBook,

Their [the founders of Ark Music Factory] business model is simple: give them money and they will produce a formulaic pop song for your 13- to 17-year-old daughter, complete with video, and then your daughter will become a famous music star like she (you) has always dreamed.

Although not something that set off red flags, I also found it unsettling to watch a video featuring “actors” we can safely assume are between the ages of 13-16. But of course, THEN I found it unsettling that I was unsettled by watching actual young teens play young teens! Think about it — all the roles in tween/teen movies are given to much older actors and actresses…

For example, the cast of the CW’s Gossip Girl:

When the show debuted (in September 2007), the majority of characters were set as high school juniors. In reality? Blake Lively, the protagonist, was 20. Chace Crawford, another star, 22.
I realize the legal issues behind having teenagers (under-18s) act. But some of it HAS to be pressure from the Public Relations teams behind the CW and other networks. Otherwise, they couldn’t run promos like this:

Or this…

Or this!…

What?! Who said that sex sells?

We (I speak for college-aged adults here) are so used to seeing 20+ year-olds play “teenage” roles that we’ve become desensitized to it. That is, until we’re forced to confront our expectations by watching a video like Black’s, which seems to feature younger actors and actresses/awkward best friends. Think about it, when was the last time you saw an actor/actress in a teen comedy or drama wear braces or grow a couple inches between seasons? In current media (all forms, but specifically in videos, TV shows, and movies), being a teenager is glamorized. My short, awkwardly highlighted brown hair, blue-eyeshadow-ed eyes, and poor fashion taste? All my role models came from Seventeen and from movies and none of them looked a thing like me.

And really, who does this glamorization of adolescence benefit? I remember the night of my first prom (it was only 4  — eek! — years ago!) I was a junior and went to support my senior friends. My best friend and I had platonic dates with two junior boys so we weren’t expecting any show of grand chivalry from them. But we were still disappointed — by the failed romanticism of the event itself. Even then, at 16, I realized how the media had set my expectations up for failure. I was expecting the She’s All That choreographed all-school flash mob, or Mean Girls‘ amends-making Spring Fling, or even the spunky Never Been Kissed prom scene. Instead, we had cheesy decorations and subpar music in a local hotel ballroom. All the effort that the other girls put into the night — $50-$100 for an updo, $30-$40 on nails, and hundreds of dollars on a dress and shoes — was a temporary high. Hollywood doesn’t show the protagonist taking her stilettos off her swollen feet and dancing barefoot. It doesn’t show her washing out a $50 hairstyle in the shower at the end of the night. It doesn’t show the cutest guy at school’s armpit-sweat marks on his dress shirt. THOSE memories are my (and many others’) reality of prom. I had fallen for the media lie that prom night is a sequined state of bliss and self-actualization. Instead, it was an exaggeration of the awkward, stuffy middle school dances… except this time, we spent much more money and were a few years older. I’ve never been as let-down as I was that night.

While I was uncomfortable watching actual-age “actors” play parts in Black’s video, I am amenable to the idea of consciously creating and sharing honest media portrayals of parties, proms, and other teenage rituals with American kids, tweens, and teens. Remembering how bummed I was on prom night — by not looking as physically “perfect” (read: mature-looking) as the movie prom queens (who are played by 20-something actresses, by the way), I don’t want other girls to be disappointed by the prom myth. So, in one sense, I encourage Hollywood to put younger actresses in teen roles. But, as with any teen pop-culture endeavor, parents need to be supportive of their child’s legal rights and responsibilities as minors. Moving toward a more honest representation of teens in media does not have to mean the exploitation of minors to satisfy their parents’ fantasies of having “famous” sons and daughters. There is a balance; or at least, there can be. For every Miley Cyrus, there’s an Anne Hathaway out there. Our focus now should be spotlighting the Annes and not the Mileys (and, more importantly, the Billy Rays). So, watch Rebecca Black one last time, sing it to yourself, and make the conscious decision to promote authentic artists. And… enjoy your weekend! Just remember… tomorrow is Saturday, and after that IS Sunday…