For the Record

Sunday night was MTV's début of Britney Spears tell-all documentary by... some director whose name I can't remember called Britney: For the Record. Not-so-coincidentally, it aired commercial free (with a brief pause to plug her fragrances Curious and Fantasy) just two days shy of Britney's birthday(record release). Happy belated birthday, girlfriend. The film was a somber, silent affair, revealing shots of Britney being ushered from Escalades and make-up stations, while she talked over a faint piano sonata in the background (one of those effects that goes really well with like, candid slo-mo camera work).

Anyway, despite the fact that this entire feature was presented in full monopoly by the Britney Spears empire, I actually found it exceedingly poignant and one of the most objective, clear perspectives on a life that really is such a vicious circle of public exposure. Even though Britney herself isn't, like, y'know, totally articulate about her situation and stuff, her truly sorrowful loss for words is kind of heartbreaking. Here is a girl who has so much to be grateful for, but is so burdened and overwhelmed by the "control" and monotony in her life that she doesn't even know how to express herself or where to start. As many reviews will reveal, Britney seriously shied away from talking about her frappuccino-y barefoot-y days of head-shaving meltdowns, but the honest and silent awkward pauses she took in her responses, and the exhaustion that was evident in her breath reveals serious hurt. Listen guys. This woman is not going to look into the camera with a sober smile and say "yeah I fucked up and married a deadbeat and went on a bender - oops!" She's like, 27. Just because she has two children and a grillion dollars and went to rehab doesn't mean she's going to be the comeback story on the cover of MarieClaire. Shit, most people don't fix their lives even by the time they're 40. The main conundrum for this lady, and her public, is that Britney has become an idea... a mere presence or existence... rather than an individual. We call it "superstardom," and I can't imagine living through it during your formative years like she has done. You know, in lieu of actually growing up.

There were some high notes: I was especially delighted to see that Brit Brit is hanging out with people she genuinely seems to admire and trust (which she herself claims is a step in the right direction). Except for one scene in which entourage members laughed off her emotional frustration, Britney never once seemed upset or impatient with anyone. Her home life seemed happy and sedate: her two FADORABLE kids were waddling around in silly Halloween costumes, and her father seemed to be dutifully protective and proactive about Britney's career and homelife. And Britney herself, as a parent, seemed sincerely aware of "her babies" which "get her up in the morning." I still think she has a long way to go in her relationship with Sean P and JJ, and I hope she crosses it fast, because they are growing up rightquick. It seems as if her desire to regain the 20-something freedom she lost as public prey overshadows the irrational, unconditional love she should have as a mother. If you have a 2-year-old and a 3-year-old, your fucking sun and moon should rise and set around those kids. I don't think it does for Britney.

But, when all's said and done, as Chris Crocker has so ebulliently pleaded, Leave Britney Alone. At least she isn't lookin like this crazy mess anymore. Dang, yall!