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There's a certain brilliance behind the idea of using Barbie dolls to recount the story of singer Karen Carpenter, and the exchange of one plastic all-American icon with another results in an oddly respectful (if suitably macabre) show-biz biography, flirting at times with campy irreverence without ever becoming vulgar. By reducing Carpenter's tragic life to dollhouse proportions the film transforms it into a miniature image of the American Dream gone sour, carrying all the morbid fascination of a tabloid celebrity exposé. But this isn't a memorial to (or a mockery of) the singer's life and musical career; it's an artfully made, near-satirical reflection of how numb and destructive American values had become during the 1970s.

I was lucky to catch a rare theatrical screening (at the York Theater in San Francisco) in the summer of 1988, three years before the film was banned for its unauthorized use of copyrighted music.

Unexplainably brilliant. You have to see it to believe it, really.

Understandably suppressed by Richard--I won't spoil it for you--it is at turns hiariously bitchy, grotesque, tender, and cruel. At the same time, it elevates the subject matter, leaving this viewer with a much deeper sense of appreciation for the Karen. I laughed at them, and it made my like both of them more.

The story is dramatized through carefully and minutely constructed sets populated by Barbie dolls clothed in carefully crafted period clothes. Karen's descent into anorexia is represented through whittling down the face and arms of the Barbie doll that portrays her, which has an effect both hilarious and disturbing.

All in all, it feels so much like a "real" documentary, I can't tell you that it isn't. It's treatment of the subject of annorexia and it's effect on Karen's life is at once silly and serious.

I saw it on DVD. The box had next to nothing printed on it. It was obviously bootlegged from somewhere, but the print I saw had good quality audio and visual.

Part 1: An important film by one of the few AIDS-awareness directors. All of Todd Haynes' films/stories symbolize the alienation, decay, and whenever possible, rebirth, of the gay man vis-a-vis AIDS. We've lost so many to AIDS, and although today the horror slumbers often, the story here is just as gripping. Combining the details of Karen Carpenter's existence with his motif/approach, Haynes tells us a lot about the suffering, solitude, and emotional blackmail that comes with that yearn for success. I am amused that most film critics stuck to the surface story and paid lip service to Karen Carpenter's ordeal as a girl in a nuclear family bubble. Civil sympathy is a bit of a bore.

Richard and Mattel, the creators of Barbie, have blocked the film's availability; all prints are legally supposed to have been destroyed. Richard blocks it because of the usage of the Carpenters' music, which ought to be public domain anyway!. Mattel blocks it because of the usage of Barbie dolls for all the characters and the overt implication that plastic existence has drastic consequences.

It's amusing and then gripping the overlays of text, music upon music, narrative, darkness, and camera pans that punctuate the film. But the surface story -- Karen lost in her own world of hopeless perfection as envisioned by her domineering mother, Agnes Carpenter -- is a fine one as it depicts a cultural shift from Vietnam's horror to Nixon's false-father stability. (The Carpenters were invited to perform for the President at the White House.) Wholesomeness, in Haynes' tale, requires grit, profanity, endless self-subterfuge and a propensity for collapse. That A&M Records is seen to be malevolent cannot be Karen's reason for self-starvation. That the rest of the rock world is living it up while Carpenters sweat it out in the studio cannot be the reason either. And yet the reason for her illness, like the bird attacks in Hitchcock's 1963 thriller, is never disclosed -- as if it could be, and Haynes shows us his chains of reasoning and events and all we can do is marvel at the Edgar Allen Poe Barbie Dolls and Karen's gradual transformation into Munch visual madness.

Todd Haynes takes liberties with what happened, but usually only as a convenience; it all comes through and through regardless: the family's accidental discovery that Karen could sing like nobody else; the switch from laxatives to syrup of ipecac and vomiting; the allegations that Richard Carpenter has always been homosexual.

Word-of-mouth will get you a copy of the film, which only benefits from the acres of great music the duo produced. Karen Carpenter is dead, like so many other against illness and massive ignorance. Haynes' paean to her strength and helplessness, her soulful gloom and snatches of love, transforms the viewer, who is pressed to create his or her own Barbie-format epic!

Squashed by the Carpenter estate this film is all but impossible to see. I think it has less to do with "unauthorized" use of Carpenter songs then the fact that Karen's family comes across as monsters and largely responsible for her death.

Quite simply this film is a kick in the face, a punch to the gut and utterly heartbreaking. Despite the fact that the film is told with "Barbies" this film moves you to tears. We watch as she is manipulated in to performing and pushed ever onward with little or no control of her life. This is cross cut with scenes of the time period and with information about her condition. The entire film is scored with the music of the Carpenters as well as the other hits of the period. You will be moved.

If you want to see great film making or great story telling find this film and see it. 10 out of 10.

Frankly this film should be seen by more people then those dogged enough to search it out since despite the tragedy it could be someone's ray of hope out of the darkness.

A marvelous film made by Todd Haynes, a Brown University student at the time, later the director of "Poison" and the brilliant, hypnotic "Safe" (1995), "Superstar" details the rise and fall of Karen Carpenter entirely through an inspired formal devise: Carpenter, her brother Richard, family, and friends are all "portrayed" by Barbie dolls. The film is not merely about fame or anorexia (the disease of which Carpenter died), but conjures the suburban California of the 1970's, indeed the whole plastic experience of America and American pop culture (of which, of course, The Carpenters and Barbie dolls are most certainly a part). The sincere lite-rock of The Carpenters is juxtaposed with the emptiness and powerful sorrow of these "people"; the film isn't merely a satire--it's deeply touching in a way that many "human stories" fail to be. Upon its appearance, the film became a minor cause celebre in hip, arty New York circles; unfortunately, when Richard Carpenter, proprietor of The Carpenters' music (who doesn't exactly come across as a hero in the film), got wind of it, he called his lawyers. The fact of the matter is that Haynes and his producers never cleared the use of the music--the film was never intended to be shown for profit. Simply, though, there is no film without the music. The still-standing cease-and-desist order prevents the film from being distributed in any form; I saw a third- or fourth-generation copy on video, and it was still better than virtually anything I saw that year. "Superstar" is worth seeking out; it's genuinely (and I rarely use this word) inspiring.

Having personally suffered from anorexia and bulimia, my family and I were shown this movie during my in-hospital treatment for my eating disorder. It is highly effective, touching, real, and it does not glamorize or sugarcoat the ugliness and devastation eating disorders cause. I would highly recommend it to anyone, as it starts at the beginning of Karen Carpenter's struggles and depicts her life-long struggle and untimely death. I feel it is a must for any young person facing weight issues, self-esteem issues, or anything of the sort. It is eloquently done, and a must see. The movie involves Barbie dolls, and while it may sound silly, it is so effective that it still makes me think today, ten years after my recovery.

I found out about this movie in the 50 greatest cult films issue of Entertainment Weekly. It sounded like a funny, semi-serious biography of Karen Carpenter, whose music I do happen to enjoy. When I finally watched it, I realized that the movie was a very serious and in depth look at anorexia. It's haunting, brilliant, moving, and touching. I had never seen the life of an anorexic person played out so well as by that barbie doll. It's a shame that this film has not been widely distributed, because it's a darn fine movie that is very educational.

All of Todd Haynes' heroes are outsiders, even Karen Carpenter. As portrayed in "Superstar," she's too square to hang with anyone hipper than Dionne Warwick, but too grown-up to cope with the strict confines of her suburban upbringing, and ceaselessly stalked by the insecurity manifested in her anorexia. Some of the details are probably over-sensationalized, and Richard probably deserved a fairer shake than the movie gave him, but the essentials of Karen's battle with herself are all there in chilling detail. Oh yeah, and the songs, featuring Karen's lead vocals and drumming, and Richard's underrated arrangements, are pretty good too. If you can't see this one, at least get hold of the songs and update your ears.

Thanks to its legal status, "Superstar" is a true piece of underground cinema, and one of the best of its kind. Here in the era of "South Park" the idea of a drama about the Karen Carpenter tragedy acted out by Ken and Barbie sounds like a crass joke, and yet Haynes treats the material with extraordinary assurance. The dolls evoke not only the cultural issue of female body-image but a not-entirely vanished society -- Nixon's "Silent Majority," with its suffocating aesthetic and tight-lipped insecurity -- and the strange sound the Carpenters constituted within it: wholesome, sweetly naive songs delivered in Karen's deft, sultry/ melancholy voice. It was an odd enough voice to be coming from the real Carpenter, and here, juxtaposed with the wide-eyed, increasingly skeletal "Karen" doll, the effect is spooky and shockingly poignant. To what degree the treatment is fair to the Carpenter family is unclear, but as a film it makes an interesting companion piece to Haynes' extraordinary "Safe" and stands on its own as a superb pop-art elegy and a genuine outlaw triumph.

A lot of people absolutely love this film. If it has something to do with the mystique of owning a legendarily unavailable cult film made with dolls, that's understandable. I think when I first got this film in the early '90's on VHS I was swayed by that and also overpraised "Superstar". Now, twelve or so years later, "Superstar" is no longer 'rare' as it's all over the fileshare sites, and let's face it, there's a world of much stranger films out there. Seen today for what it is, "Superstar" is still an interesting piece, an experiment that works more often than not. The best element I feel is the editing. Great work there. Otherwise, and I'm not knocking it at all, this isn't a great film. It's good, entertaining and certainly memorable, but really nothing all that special. In my opinion, of course.

I have seen this long illegally circulated film on YouTube after nearly twenty years of hearing about it. Filmmaker Todd Haynes' dramatization of Karen Carpenter's life story and her battle with anorexia nervosa with Barbie dolls makes this one of the most fascinating depictions of a superstar's descent into madness. Karen's fellow musician brother Richard and mother Agnes also make impressions though not always positive ones. Interspersed with actual news footage of '70s events and Carpenter songs playing at the same time, there's a disorienting atmosphere throughout. You also get commentary, both pro and con, on Karen's music from some real people on screen. Haynes, who would later make Far From Heaven and Safe, plays various Carpenter songs alone to illustrate Karen's feelings clearly when scenes focus on her. The video I saw was a bit fuzzy but don't let that stop you. For the unusual way you see an entertainer's life depicted, Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story is certainly one of the most mind blowing experiences I've ever had!

When I first heard of a Karen Carpenter movie acted out by Barbie dolls, I thought, "Yeah, right." Actually, it's not half-bad, revealing the ugly side of brother Richard and their parents. It's a shame the movie has been only available through the underground, though, as it portrays the heart-breaking effects of anorexia through clinical narration, montage, and pop culture to great effect. The use of dolls is actually ingenious, as we come to see how Karen was manipulated by her family, her record company, and society to conform to unattainable perfection. Although banned by numerous lawsuits, this film is available through alternative resources. If you look hard enough, you can find it.

I recently saw Superstar in an art class of mine, having heard about the film for over ten years. I had been dying to get my hands on a copy, and was extremely excited about seeing it. It surpassed every expectation I had. I can't imagine the story being done any other way with Barbie dolls. When "Karen" is talking about how she feels fat, one can't help but look at the irony that she is being played by a stick thin Barbie but still insists she's fat--just as Karen couldn't see that in real life. Not preachy or cheesy at all, the "dolls" manage to inject more humanity in the film than actors could. One of the most beautiful, poignant shots ever is in Superstar--Karen Carpenter, alone in the studio, singing a very sad song as the camera pans up and the lights grow dim, the only visible thing her shining face and her echoing, melancholy voice. Do whatever you have to do to see this!!

I heard about this film for years before I was able to track a copy down. I figured I was going to see one of those jokey - cynical Film Threat kind of films. Boy was I wrong.

I have only cried like a baby for three films. It's A Wonderful Life, Bang The Drum Slowly and Superstar. One of the best films I have ever seen.

Great technique; so well done, paced, scripted; great inventive cut-aways that steal from the best movie cinematography. A low-low budget over-the-top tribute that never fails to deeply touch the Ex-Lax within us all. Poor Karen died but Barbie lives on in white bread heaven. I'm sure the Carpenter family, esp. Richard, is furious with the director to this day.

I really can't add to the two other reviews, they really hit the mark. I'd just like to add that even though the idea of Barbie dolls acting it all out, this film really never is laughable. There is never one moment of laughter, there are tears, though. Hopefully, someday, maybe someone will pay off the music rights so this can be released legally.

The first time I saw this movie was as a last-minute thing, and it was double-billed with John Waters's "The Diane Linkletter Story," which was unfortunate. "Superstar ..." is dead serious, and addresses eating disorders straight-on, while still giving the viewer an honest view of Karen Carpenter's life, pressures, and place as an artist (I still hear people refer to her as having the most soulful white voice of her generation). I think a lot of our uneasiness with films that (even wrongly accused) seem to make fun of Karen Carpenter (and "Superstar ..." certainly does not, but its unconventionality leads some to take it as frivolous), is that, when Karen Carpenter died, she'd become uncool, and we made all the jokes about her, and now we feel guilty.

Seeing this movie should pick at the scab on that guilt a bit, which isn't a bad thing.

In contrast, "The Diane Linkletter Story," also about a famous young woman's untimely death (suicide from a high window), was a joke made to shock the audience. Not that that's bad -- I'm a huge JW fan and always will be -- but it has nothing in common with "Superstar ..." TDLS was filmed on the very day that Diane Linkletter killed herself, and so contains very little reflection or morality. It's not supposed to since (I believe) it's a parody of "on the spot" news coverage in which there is no rest time between actual events and the reporting thereof.

It is that rest time, and the reflection that Todd Haynes put into "Superstar ..." that makes the movie so touching and illuminating, regardless of his choice of materials/cast.

And the music still haunts to this day ...

The story of Karen Carpenter. It's all about her rise to fame and her battle with anorexia which killed her at the far too young age of 32. It's all done using dolls to portray the people. Also they show what was going on in the world at the time and cards explaining how anorexia destroys women. This is a deadly serious short and VERY depressing. I almost was in tears as you see and hear Karen trying to fight the disease. It also portrays her family very badly. Her brother is shown as being gay and verbally abusive. Her mother comes across as a controlling witch. Harrowing but fascinating.

This has supposedly banned due to unauthorized use of the Carpenters music but I saw it uncut on YouTube.

Prior to seeing this film, I had heard of neither Todd Haynes nor any of his films. Superstar impressed me more than any "experimental" film I have seen, mostly due to its several layers of technique and meaning. Most surprising was the fact that a film acted out almost entirely without live actors could be engrossing and evoke both sympathy and disgust for a person portrayed by a Barbie doll. I saw Superstar as part of a writing course at Syracuse University as an aid to analyze rhetorical strategies. While such an exercise could have ended up a hopelessly dreary assignment, this film provides us with all we need to know: the use of montage, music, the dolls, EVERYTHING combines to make this one of the most effective films I have seen- ironic that I encounter it not in a theater but on a bootleg tape in a college classroom.

Despite the seeming mishmash of tricks and features used (voiceovers, text overlays, live commentators which seem intrusive in the doll world) Haynes' portrayal of Karen Carpenter and the illusory, overbearing "dreamland" in which she existed is so succinctly effective and complete that you have no choice but to be drawn in. After seeing this film, and noting the techniques employed to tell this story, I can imagine no better way of constructing it than the way Haynes has done. An amazing job all around, Superstar forces us to examine not just the problem of anorexia, but primarily our fabricated cultural ideals and the various forces in society that can add to a person's internal strain and commoditize the individual.

This is a very charming debut by Todd Haynes, signaling his talent, but it is also understandably raw. The approach is the most fascinating thing here. Having dolls instead of real actors, but filming it as if were made by cameras of the 70's works great. Thus acting is nonexistent, but the conversations are not lacking in spark. In the dramatical context, the minimalistic approach is spot on, but the actual dialogues are too banal for my liking. Also, the messages about anorexia nervosa are not subtle enough, so it sometimes feels like we are in a commercial. Even though I found several significant flaws, I enjoyed the movie on a substantial level. At the end of the day, it is a very original idea, but perhaps not done to its full potential. It is as if the director was 'too nice' to make something even greater, somehow reminding us of the Carpenters themselves.

I had long heard about this movie and was intrigued, but I never thought I'd have an opportunity to see it. But I did, on screen and with an audience, outdoors in Prague in the late 1990s (twin billed with Todd Browning's "Freaks," believe it or not.)

I'm not sure the Czechs in the audience "got" it (they liked "Freaks," though), but I thought it was moving. I had expected it to be John Waters-ish. Not so. The Barbie gimmick really works.

I just wonder what thought process went through Todd Haynes' mind to think this up. "A movie about Karen Carpenter. Using Barbie Dolls. Hmmm." The man's an artist. I've known ever since seeing "Safe."

In New York in the 1980s I recall there were always these low-budget short art films floating around, shown in clubs or bars to audiences who all dressed in black and didn't own televisions. Superstar is reminiscent of the movies I saw back then, although it's somewhat more focused and coherent than most of them.

Using Barbie dolls to play real people is an interesting device that works to some extent. The movie has a well meaning concern with anorexia, and tries to explain, a little bit, what it is and how it happens.

On the other hand, the movie has, like most art films, a lot of pretentious, random shots (in this case of holocaust victims and spanking) and the movie seems to have an ax to grind with Richard Carpenter; he is portrayed as domineering and unsympathetic and it is implied, for no reason that I can see, that he is gay. (On the other hand, the movie ignores his drug problems.) But the real problem with the movie is it's not all that interesting. The story itself is somewhat interesting, but 45 minutes is a long time to spend with bland Barbie dolls and the movie's lack of conventional movie devices such as character development just illustrate why art films never do well beyond a niche audience who so hates Hollywood that they fall in love with any movie that purposely flouts film conventions.

The irony is that the thing that powers the movie and keeps it from being completely painful is the most movie-conventional quality, the wall-to-wall Carpenters sound track.