The relationship between any creative individual—musician, actor, director—and their fandom is complicated. The term “fandom” itself suggests a certain kind of enthusiast, someone who is so passionate in their devotion that they’re practically unswayable, and the nature of modern fame is that the celebrity on the receiving end of that loyalty is almost certainly hyper-aware of it, and of the protection it provides. (Let me whisper here for a moment: Snyder Cut.) So the Charli XCX documentary “Alone Together,” for all of its heartbreaking honesty on Charli’s part, for all her willingness to invite viewers into her creative process, and for all her candor in discussing her mental health, also raises a question: At what point does inclusion cross over into exploitation?
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Perhaps that’s overthinking one element of “Alone Together,” which follows Charli as she struggles to deal with the restrictive measures brought on by the COVID-19 pandemic. In late 2019, Charli was embarking on an international tour with several sold-out shows attended by her “Angels,” which is how her fans refer to themselves. For the “Boom Clap” singer, who has been famous for nearly half her 28 years for her songwriting, singing, and giving us Riz Ahmed cuddling with a teddy bear in the cult favorite “Boys” music video, this next stage of her career marked a new kind of self-confidence. Charli has struggled with her mental health for a long time, she says in “Alone Together”—which is narrated entirely by her—but the connection with her heavily LGBTQIA fanbase has given her strength and inspiration.
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A moment at a show when Charli is clad in a sexy devil outfit, with sequined red horns and a cage skirt, and then dissolves into tears while thanking her fans for their support (“You value me for me, that’s really hard to do in the pop industry … I would not be here without you”), embodies the duality of her appeal. She is unapologetic and provocative and knows that she is good at her job and beloved by her fans, but also can never really seem to accept that she’s a success. For anyone who grapples with depression or self-loathing, so much of what Charli is going through is relatable, recognizable, and refreshingly presented here without any kind of apology. Charli’s admission, “I depend on work to make me feel like I’m a good person. I don’t think I’m pretty enough. I don’t think I’m smart enough. I don’t think I’m interesting enough or funny enough of a person to function without my work,” hits particularly hard.
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The World Health Organization declaring COVID-19 a global pandemic in spring 2020, Charli canceling her remaining U.S. tour dates, and lockdown regulations beginning in Los Angeles, where she lives, combine into a sort of Cerberus situation. Desperate for a creative outlet to keep her grounded (“I need to be preoccupied”), Charli decides to make an album in 45 days at home and film an accompanying documentary to go along with it. The entire process will be collaborative, she announces, and “Alone Together” documents all of this. Her relationship with her boyfriend Huck Kwong, who is isolating with her after they have dated off and on for seven years but only spent a maximum of 11 days together at a time (!!!). Her personal and professional bonds with her former classmates and managers live with her, including Sam Pringle, who usually holds one of the three video cameras Charli orders for this project. And most importantly, Charli’s own creative drive and work ethic once she decides to invite her fans into her process through Zoom meetings and live streams.
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She scribbles lyrics in notebooks and then shares them with fans, asking for different word choice ideas. She records her vocals and then plays them back, laughing when a fan criticizes how “rough” her voice sounds: “I’m fucking showing you my process, fool!” She plays beats sent to her by producers and asks fans for their thoughts. She asks Huck to take photos of her that could work as album art and then posts three choices for her fans to choose between. Practically every aspect of this is collective, and as we see from videos, comments, and text messages, from fans, appreciated. They delight in being asked to help Charli, and they need a human connection as much as she does.
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So much of “Alone Together” is built around the link between Charli and her Angels, and that bond is deeply felt on both sides. Charli got her start online by blowing up on MySpace at 14-years-old, and has since hung around in fan chat rooms, Tweeted at them, live-streamed on Insta, and otherwise used practically every means of social media to maintain this dynamic. Many of the fans we meet through self-submitted recordings or live streams are gay, non-binary, and trans individuals who are particularly struggling during lockdown because they’re either isolating with unsupportive parents and living in cities without a strong LGBTQIA presence or have lost work because of the pandemic. “When I started to get into her fanbase, I finally felt like I belonged somewhere,” a fan says, and that sentiment is ubiquitous. They need Charli, “Alone Together,” argues, and Charli needs them. The two sides here geek out so much over each other that viewers might be tempted to ignore the question of whether asking your fans to essentially work for you for free is exploitative.
Inclusion is important, and Charli makes her fans feel appreciated and valued using their lyric suggestions, videos, and artwork. She attends virtual dance parties they organize, they ask her questions during Zoom fan Q+As, and the communication is two-way. “Alone Together” informs us that fans submitted thousands of pieces of content at the end of the documentary and “contributed their time and energy.” And that’s all well and good. But were they paid? That is the question “Alone Together” avoids, and it’s a frustrating side swerve for an artist who has otherwise bared so much of herself.
If Charli were making this record in a traditional studio setting, theoretically, the people who helped write her lyrics, who edited her album cover art, or who helped choose her beats would be paid for that assistance. They were performing labor, and they deserved to be reimbursed for their “time and energy.” Why should that be different when the person doing this work for you is a fan? It’s not like Charli is unique in this. Corporations do it; other musicians have done it; social media influencers do it. But all of it is a sort of manipulation of what you’re willing to give someone for the ability to be close to them, and for all the deliberately positive stuff “Alone Together” includes about Charli and her fans, this unintentionally negative element is telling in its own way.
Nevertheless, “Alone Together” whizzes by over its 70-minute run time. The vibe is both exuberant (Charli decides to buy a green screen and a couple of green suits and use them for her latest music video idea; she laughs when she asks Huck what the best thing about her is, and his first response is the jokey “your tits”) and downtrodden (Charli live streams a video sharing depressive thoughts, a moment so raw that it inspires a concerned call from her mother and a hesitant expression of fear from Huck). Sometimes, it’s simultaneous, like when Charli sings, “My therapist said I hate myself really bad,” and then pauses and sardonically laughs, admitting, “She did say that.” “Alone Together” sees-saws between those two emotions in a way that feels sincerely reflective of Charli XCX herself. But for as much as Charli is the star of this documentary, her fans are, too, and “Alone Together” manifests as both a wild ride and a soothing balm—as long as you don’t think too hard about the labor ethics at the center of it. [B]
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