Director: Luke Korem
Stars: Sabrina Solerno, Diane Warren, Downtown Julie Brown
Synopsis: The bizarre untold truth behind the greatest con in music history – Milli Vanilli.
White North American and European music executives love nothing more than using Black artists for financial gain and leaving them with the burden. From the 1950s, pop covers were stolen by white artists to bring in more money for studios, to country music theft of Hillbilly music. There’s no creative genius that wasn’t stolen and called their own.
And then there’s the case of documentary titled Milli Vanilli, a German-French duo that took the music world by storm with “Girl You Know It’s True.” Like Albert Freedman and Dan Enright in Quiz Show, European music producers found their guys. They needed a brand, a story, and two struggling artists who oozed sex appeal to sell albums and make everyone rich.
In the grand scheme of things, it hardly seemed to matter that Milli Vanilli couldn’t hold a note. German record producer Frank Farian saw stars, and, no doubt, blamed it on the money signs that undoubtedly caught his eyes falling down like rain.
This is the crux of one of the greatest cons in music history, as laid bare in Luke Korem’s thought-provoking film. This is an examination of the motivations of the betrayal of public trust, a concept that carries a certain irony, considering how MTV began reshaping the music industry in the 1980s, prioritizing the visual spectacle over vocal prowess. We can blame it on Madonna, who had both, and everybody wanted their version of her.
Yes, it is a fraud, with the German-French duo being the victims of being made human capital with the relentless drive for profits. Internet companies today need constant content. Executives needed to strike while the iron was hot with the birth of music television. The duo had an astonishing rise, selling a staggering 50 million records. The Milli Vanilli album “All or Nothing” had five number-one singles, unheard of at the time. They even won a Grammy and had multiple platinum and gold records.
Then, during a concert at Lake Compounce in Bristol, Connecticut, Rob Pilatus, and Fab Morvan were exposed during a technical malfunction, becoming a national punchline for late-night and radio drive-time hosts. The film then shows footage of televised American interviews where the duo had several communication breakdowns with the English language that was painfully evident. In one eye-opening scene, Milli Vanilli began an attempt to start a song with their voice and get the crowd involved. Only then did they start their visual dance number, and a noticeable improvement in vocal quality began.
Almost everyone was complicit, including the pop idols. However, Milli Vanilli demonstrates the story through the poignant lens of Rob and Fab. You can empathize with their plight of being used to make everyone millions but judge them for falling victim to the alluring power of money and fame themselves. What Korem does so well is embrace the three-dimensional human story when it comes to the creation of fame, the strenuous journey, and fight to keep your place there.
By all accounts, this is entertainment, and one could argue no one was hurt. By the time the jig was up, Arista Records had too much money invested to turn around. Personally, I have no idea how the executives wouldn’t know, with Fab Morvan claiming they did. Either way, no one stopped that gravy train, and that brings us full circle to how Rob and Fab were left to explain it all, feeling like dancing pawns, lip-syncing for their supper.
You certainly cannot absolve Rob and Fab for their role – they are grown adults, after all, and know right from wrong. However, the film Milli Vanilli exposes a seminal moment in music history that had layers of complexity that went past the fraud. This was an exploitation of Blackartists and the deception of public trust that comes with marketing during the dawn of music television.
At the same time, revealing the human cost of making a choice and not caring about the consequences until it’s too late.
