Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story

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.

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.

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!

In 1988, filmmaker Todd Haynes released a short film about Karen Carpenter's anorexia-related death. The entire film is, essentially, a reenactment of the events with the people being played by Barbie and Ken dolls. The entire film was more from the perspective of Karen Carpenter and is probably one of the most sympathetic portraits of her plight in existence. Unfortunately, the Carpenter family was none too happy about the film's release and, with the addition of several uncleared music rights, was banned from distribution. Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story, found it's place in film viewing from the hundreds of bootlegs currently in circulation. The film's primary appeal, nowadays, is in the fact that it's such a controversial and illegal film. With the advent of the internet and of youtube, curious viewers can now watch the film online for free without having to pay for a bootleg copy with mixed quality. I have seen the film in question several times now and I consider it a fascinating first feature from a director that would later go on to receive tremendous acclaim for several of today's modern classics.

There isn't a whole lot I want to say about the film, because part of the mystique of the film comes from viewing it. I do want to say, however, that it is as creative, disturbing, and interesting as everyone has heard. To say that it's a masterpiece of cult cinema is a bit of a stretch, but structurally the film is intelligent. It does have a rather slanted perspective. It's more about Karen Carpenter and her troubles. It paints a very fair portrait of her difficulties with fame, and as weird as it sounds you do feel really sorry and sad when watching her. The film's treatment of the rest of the characters, however, is a lot less fair. Richard Carpenter, her brother, is shown to be very fame-driven and rather selfish. Haynes, in fact, goes so far as to imply that his hesitations in revealing Karen's anorexia are out of fear of her outing him as a homosexual. Their mother is shown in an even more disturbing light. She is ignorant, small minded, loud, and stubborn, and comes across as very manipulative and controlling. However, the worst portrayal is of their father, who seems almost like a mockery of sitcom fathers of the late-50s. It's an ugly and spiteful portrayal, and to be perfectly honest if it were my family that Haynes was making a film about I would probably want to wring his neck. Putting aside the wrath of the script's treatment of the characters, however, it is only a reenactment and reinterpretation and I have seen far more mocking portrayals of famous people on several different made-for-TV movies (Man in the Mirror anyone?). I don't think that the Carpenter family should have taken Haynes so seriously, but I understand completely why they did. It's a well-known fact that Haynes, in order to properly portray Karen's weight problems, actually shaved off layers of plastic off of her Barbie doll avatar in order to graphically show her descent. In addition, he edits in footage of informal ads, television news audio, and graphic footage of holocaust victims. This is a much darker film than many would think.

If there's anything wrong with this, it's that the impact of the film is weakened on repeat viewings. Once you get past the actual visual nature of the film, the dark tone, the graphic material of the footage, and the power of the music of the Carpenters in particular, there isn't much left to really dive into. This is really sad to me, because one thing that I can say with total confidence is that the depth Todd Haynes exhibits in terms of musical storytelling, visual power, multiple centered characters and character arcs, set pieces, genre manipulation, tone distortion, atmosphere, breaking of convention, and sound editing make his films some of the most re-watchable films in existence. Still, just because Superstar doesn't hold up does not mean that it is not worth seeing. It is a must-see film. Just don't bother watching it again, because once is enough.