“超级挑选:Tekashi 6ix9ine的制作”无法满足自己的野心:电视评论
‘Supervillain: The Making of Tekashi 6ix9ine’ Can’t Meet Its Own Ambition: TV Review
在试图解释Tekashi 6ix9ine的男人和现象时,Showtime的新纪录片最能体现他。插曲。像它的主题一样,“超级挑选”依靠社交媒体来建立自己。它缝合了多年的Instagram视频,描绘了一个男人的肖像,该肖像故意将自己转变为说唱最混乱的对手,而他的崛起反映了他的热闹追随者的数字。它采访了他内心圈子的人们,观察者越来越多的双曲线生活,并且在零星的情况下,Tekashi 6x9ine本人在他最近被称为Home的郊区安全厅的音频剪辑中。在其三集中Rue Supervillain,包括外观,臭名昭著,自我和创伤。它具有完成主义的贴面,但是到最后一集结束时,“ Supperillain”感觉更像是一种好奇的练习,对自己的结论印象深刻,无法令人信服地支持他们。“ Tekashi 6ix9ine”是Daniel Hernandez给自己的名字当他还是布鲁克林的少年时,在佛陀柜台后面工作,梦见更大的东西。正如他告诉所有人所遇到的那样,无论付出多少代价,“某事”都是名望和财富。在纪录片最近对埃尔南德斯(Hernandez)的采访的音频中,他解释说,他很早就想出自己想将自己作为反派人物,因为这将尽快吸引最大的关注。如果至少意味着人们知道自己是谁,他愿意付出仇恨的代价。他坚持说:“好人没有得到封面。” “好人不会去任何地方。”这显然不像以前那样真实Ve(见:Chance the Rapper,John Legend,早期的Drake),尽管Hernandez可能从来没有对可能使他获得“ GQ”和“父母”杂志的封面的职业感兴趣。否:他对成为一个狗屎的文化闪点感兴趣,有人可以引起人们的注意,因为人们忍不住想知道他下一步会做什么。接下来是一个以小丑和与布鲁克林帮派的联系而建立的职业,该团伙在每个人的脸上都充当安全网。 “ Supperillain”花费大量时间打开包装,或者至少要重复很多时间,好像我们可能在前10次错过了它。这个叙事问题从一开始就削弱了“超级挑剔”,尤其是在他们自己的回声中下垂的前两集。我们明白了:Tekashi 6x9ine正在利用听众的病态好奇心。我们得到IT:Tekashi 6x9ine如果人们不愿意让他就不会变得那么大。我们明白了:Tekashi 6ix9ine想变得不好。编制证据和超越自然限制的结论之间存在区别,但是“超级挑选”很少证明这种理解 - 而且在这些最基本的角度之外,这是不超出这些最基本的观点的。提到他2015年的定罪“在性行为中使用孩子”。该系列最终在Supervillain的生活和职业生涯中的这一重要时刻花了大约五分钟的时间,此后没有提及其他类似的指控。在第三集的深处,该系列赋予了他的前女友杰德(Jade),也是他孩子的母亲,足够的空间详细介绍了两个小时的殴打,以至于她以为自己会死的地步。然而,这一令人恐惧的事件大多是他的另一个例子偏执狂变得更好,而不是作为对女性的粗心暴力模式的一部分。 ,为了它的价值 - 回到听众。他说:“超级挑选者是创造他们的社会的反映。”此外,他通过解释说,像丹尼尔·埃尔南德斯(Daniel Hernandez)这样的人如何以及为什么像tekashi 6ix9ine这样的人物说:“我们实际上能够了解我们成为一种文化的人,他将自己变成了谁。”这可能是真的,也是探索如此棘手的主题的值得的理由。令人遗憾的是,“超级挑选”花费了很多时间来分解基础知识,以至于它很少能超越Tekashi的热烈表面。“ Supperillain:Tekashi 6ix9ine的制作” 2月21日,星期日,首映Showtime上午0点。
In trying to explain the man and phenomenon that is Tekashi 6ix9ine, Showtime’s new docuseries does its best to embody him.
“Supervillain: The Making of Tekashi 6ix9ine,” directed by Karam Gill, alternates between self-consciously shaggy found footage and slick, stylized interludes. Like its subject, “Supervillain” depends on social media to build itself up. It stitches together years of Instagram videos to paint its portrait of a man who deliberately transformed himself into rap’s most chaotic antagonist, with his rise reflected in his ballooning follower numbers. It interviews people from his inner circle, observers of his increasingly hyperbolic life and, sporadically, Tekashi 6x9ine himself in audio clips from the suburban safehouse he’s most recently called home. Throughout its three episodes — titled “Identity,” “Power” and “Truth” — the series interrupts itself for flashy stop motion explainers in which narrator Giancarlo Esposito breaks down the crucial elements that make a true supervillain, including appearance, notoriety, ego, and trauma. It has the veneer of completism, but by the end of its final episode, “Supervillain” feels more like an exercise in curiosity that became too impressed with its own conclusions to convincingly support them.
“Tekashi 6ix9ine” is the name Daniel Hernandez gave himself when he was a Brooklyn teenager working behind a bodega counter and dreaming of something bigger. As he told everyone he met, that “something” was fame and fortune no matter the cost. In the audio of the documentary’s most recent interview with Hernandez, he explains that he figured out early on that he wanted to fashion himself as a villain because it would attract the most attention as quickly as possible. He was willing to pay the price of being hated if it at least meant that people knew who he was. “The nice guys don’t get the covers,” he insists. “The nice guys don’t go anywhere.”
That’s demonstrably not as true as it once might have been (see: Chance the Rapper, John Legend, early Drake), though Hernandez probably was never interested in a career that might've landed him the covers of "GQ" and “Parents” magazine. No: he was interested in being a shit-talking cultural flashpoint, someone that could command attention because people couldn’t help but wonder what the hell he would do next. What came next was a career modeled after The Joker and an association with a Brooklyn gang that acted as a safety net before it blew up in everyone’s faces.
The idea of Tekashi 6ix9ine’s success hinging on his canny, explosive use of social media is one that “Supervillain” spends a lot of time unpacking — or, at least, a lot of time repeating as if we might’ve missed it the first 10 times. This narrative issue weakens “Supervillain” from the very beginning, with the first two episodes in particular sagging under the weight of their own echoes. We get it: Tekashi 6x9ine was exploiting the morbid curiosity of his audience. We get it: Tekashi 6x9ine wouldn’t have gotten so big if people weren’t willing to let him. We get it: Tekashi 6ix9ine wanted to be bad. There’s a difference between compiling evidence and stretching conclusions past their natural limits, but “Supervillain” rarely demonstrates such an understanding — and has trouble reaching beyond these most basic points, besides.
It’s not until the second episode, for example, that “Supervillain” mentions his 2015 conviction for “use of a child in a sexual performance.” The series ultimately spends about five minutes on this huge moment in its supervillain’s life and career, and doesn’t mention the other similar allegations that have come out since. Deep into the third episode, the series gives his ex-girlfriend Jade, also the mother of his child, enough space to detail the two hours in which he beat her to the point where she thought she would die. And yet, this horrifying incident is mostly presented as yet another example of how badly his paranoia was getting the better of him rather than as part of a demonstrated pattern of careless violence against women.
In Esposito’s final bit of performance as narrator, he and the series turn the rise and implosion of Tekashi 6ix9ine — who still has 23 million Instagram followers, for what it’s worth — back on their audience. “Supervillains are a reflection of the society that creates them,” he intones. Further, he underlines the ostensible point of the series itself by explaining that, in dissecting how and why someone like Daniel Hernandez turned himself into a figure like Tekashi 6ix9ine, “we are actually able to learn about who we are becoming as a culture.” That’s probably true, and a worthy reason to explore such an extremely thorny subject. It’s just a shame that “Supervillain” spends so much time breaking down the basics that it’s rarely able to go much deeper beyond Tekashi's leering surface.
“Supervillain: The Making of Tekashi 6ix9ine” premieres Sunday, February 21 at 10 pm on Showtime.
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