A group of talented but naive hopefuls from around the world consent to giving away up to two years of their life to a multinational music conglomeration intent on melding them into an international, cohesive, KPop-style girl group. Though contracts and NDAs were signed by all, apparently not a single participant bothered to have an attorney look over the contracts or have them explained. Apparently, they each took the promise of, "Baby, I'm gonna make you a STAR!" at face value and didn't consider the potential price that each would have to pay. Have they never been taught that "All that glitters is not gold," or the clear winner when you make a deal to "sell your soul"?
Besides the giant spiderweb these ingenues become ensnared within, I was immediately struck by the lack of professionalism of (what I call) "the camp counselors", particularly the woman in charge, who actually wept with emotion when speaking to the initial group of 14 hopefuls. Her way of speaking, with many of her declarations/statements are made with an upturn at the end, making each sound like questions. Her manner of presents herself in frumpy clothes, slumped posture, and offering little eye contact when communicating, doesn't inspire confidence in her abilities or authority, either. Her sister, the professional dancer (the "fiery" one), is far more self-assured and confident, and she deals with the girls with authority and clear(er) expectations.
We're given few details about the girls other than some carefully-curated backstories. For example, which girls are homesick? Is school provided for the minors? Which girls are with "guardians"/parents and which ones are in the house? What does a typical day look like: how many hours spent dancing? Singing? Presenting? Have the girls been instructed on cultivating a unique persona? How disciplined is each girl, really? How reliable? How many dance routines did they have to learn? How do they afford to go out? Who pays for personal grooming? What about conflict amongst the participants? Feelings of jealousy? I can't be the only viewer alarmed by the story told by one of the younger girls' "guardian", which goes something like this: While lurking around a random performance event (a pageant or dance recital), she happened across a most charismatic and talented child of about 6 or 7 years old, whom, she was convinced, could become a star, but only under her own tutelage and Hollywood connections. Somehow, this fairy godmother convinced the child's parent/s to sign over guardianship and move her to Hollywood. We're never told what the fairy godmother was getting out of the deal (other than unfettered access to a young child, obviously), nor when her (skeevy) partner came into the picture. If *I* want to know details like this, others do, too.
I also take issue with the editing (which, granted, must have been a monumental task): each episode covers such huge gaps in time that it's difficult for the viewer to know where we are in the story. For example: how did a foot fracture heal in the blink of an eye? What did the injured do during the six weeks+ of recovery: practice her voice for the entire six weeks? How on earth did she catch up with the dance routines? Did she receive physical therapy? Who paid the medical bill? I can't imagine you can get out of a boot and be back to new, let alone start back with daily training in heels.
While I fully appreciate the immense talent and importance of dancers, singers, athletes, and other performers, making this one's profession is usually folly. What percentage of dancers can support themselves without help? There is simply too much talent and too few opportunities in a field where you're a single injury away from catastrophic failure. Even if you're one of the "lucky ones" who escape an acute/devastating injury, the toll dancing/sport takes on a body can't be overstated. We only get one. In professions where the competition is so extreme, corruption is bound to occur; how can it possibly be otherwise? Also, the career lifespan of a dancer is self-limiting: how many professional dancers are there over the age of, say, 35?
I couldn't help compare this show with the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders (DCC) documentary: as weird and culty the DCC seem to be, I was endlessly impressed by the level of excellence, professionalism, and commitment displayed by every participant of the DCC, from top to bottom. In contrast, "The Making of a Pop Star" (MPS) feels like Amateur Hour, like no one really knows what they're doing (save the Chairman and the recording expert). Like the DCC, the MPS participants work around the clock with no days off, and for a pittance, if anything. In both cases, riches are never promised, only fame.
In situations like MPS or DCC, the ONLY people who stand to profit are the producers at the top: the performers are truly nothing more than dancing monkeys, performing not even for riches, but merely for the promise of fame. Talk about a deal with the devil! Fame neither fills your belly nor keeps you warm at night; it's both fleeting AND a double-edged sword. Did no one warn these girls?
