There’s a scene a little over halfway through Sabaah Folayan’s newest film, “Look at Me: XXXTentacion,” that speaks to the conflicting ideas presented in the Hulu documentary. The documentarian — presumably Folayan, though offscreen — sits down with all the relevant interviewees, asking them about the (in)famous SoundCloud rapper, real name Jahseh Onfroy, and his unwillingness to take public accountability for horribly abusing his ex-girlfriend Geneva Ayala. In turn, they speak to the myriad issues that Onfroy went through — bipolar disorder, his upbringing, abuse by his father, his penchant for seeing himself as the villain, and the more generalized relationship between public and private lives. Does it matter if Onfroy took accountability privately if he “wasn’t telling the truth publicly,” as Folayan phrases it? Your answer to that question will probably determine your reaction to the overall documentary.
Named after his popular song and framed as a redemptive narrative for the tragically slain musician — who died in 2018 at the age of 20, just as he was gaining mainstream recognition — “Look at Me” provides a fascinating overview of Onfroy’s meteoric rise in the music industry, while also broadly touching on the various legal issues, including appalling allegations of abuse, that dogged his career.
Produced by both his mother and manager (Cleopatra Bernard and Solomon Sobande, respectively), “Look at Me” brings up intriguing questions about the relationship between art, artist, and fandom, but treats XXXTentacion’s violence, mainly against women, as an obstacle that he eventually overcomes in his (shortened) search for enlightenment. This structure might work well in a traditional music-doc, but the relationship between X’s music — which often thematized depression and isolation — the fans that he spoke to, and his own self-destructive lifestyle could’ve used a more nuanced approach.
Instead, what we get is a cradle-to-grave portrait of the South Florida performer, whose musical interests spanned from pop to rap to hardcore, and often defied the trappings of genre. Famous just as much for his online presence as for his music, X very quickly moved from underground attraction to headliner in the span of three years. This ascent is conveyed by interviews with X, his mother, manager, aunt, friends, and fellow rappers, with Folayan often overlaying these moments with anonymized tweets and Instagram posts from fans. Perhaps more so than any other artist, X broke down the barriers between artist and fan, often posting confessional Instagram live stories that allowed listeners to connect with his own struggles.
But, just as often, he would post videos where he fought random people for any number of reasons — increased exposure, defending friends, boredom, etc. This self-destructiveness culminated in violent beatings of Ayala, who ended up going to the police, beginning a cycle of short prison stints for Tentacion. Just as he was dealing with the fallout of these allegations, his album ‘17’ was beginning to gain traction.
How he dealt with the fallout of abusing Ayala — publicly denying any wrongdoing — gave permission to his increasing fandom to target her online, viciously attacking her every move while proclaiming justice for X. To “Look at Me” ’s credit, the film includes Ayala and spends a lot of time corroborating her story and showcasing the emotional and physical fallout of such harassment. But, it also gives equal time to the apologists of his behavior, never really diving into the larger mechanisms of fandom that X weaponized to spread his narrative and, instead, framing his story as a narrative of progress, in which he eventually sheds his villainous persona for understanding and compassion.
As such, “Look at Me” is for those who have never heard X, more overview than in-depth examination of the forces that venerated him, which allowed these cycles of abuse to continue. It’s also a bit too closely aligned with its producers, never really moving beyond interviewing his circle of friends and family to contextualize his music, or his lifestyle. Considering the groundwork that this doc lays, one hopes, however, for a more distinctive examination of X down the line, including a discussion of how social media lionizes those outside the mainstream, while also vilifying those like Ayala who dare to speak out against such indiscriminate adulation. [B-]