GIRL MODEL opens in drab Siberia, a region we quickly go onto discover is more than just a retirement community for political dissidents. Many young girls also live here, who long to escape this near-desolate landscape for greener pastures, and who will do almost anything in order to achieve this.
The doc centers around 13-year-old Nadya, she of long blond hair and cherubic visage, who enters the modeling business with high hopes and big dreams, yet whose naivete ends up getting the better of her. Curiously, the bobbysoxer's parents are totally supportive of this pursuit of hers. In one scene, Nadya is shown winning an award for best-looking model. The ingenue is all smiles; the joyous mother teary-eyed and appearing ever so proud of her daughter.
A bevy of girls show up at these auditions, scantily clad in two-piece swimwear and skimpy underthings, but only a few are chosen. One girl is turned away on account of her acne. Another is told that she can be of use only if she is put on a diet. Later on in the film, yet a third is sent packing on account of her having gained two centimeters in the waistline. Each one of these aspiring exports are scrutinized for blemishes, blubber, and the like, and appraised for their photogenic value. Those who make the grade and pass the scrupulous screening process -- overseen by a fastidious arbitrator -- are shipped out to overseas markets, where there the plan is to earn some quick, easy cash before returning home to their jerkwater hamlets.
This may sound like your typical rags-to-riches fairy tale but it's anything but that. Once in Japan (home to anime animation) Nadya -- sans a tag-along interpreter -- finds herself shacked up in a squalid hole-in-the-wall, earning next to nothing for her photo shoots, and missing her family. Heartbreaking is the moment that has the near-penniless and forlorn debutante calling home, breaking down crying on the phone, as a lonely girl in a foreign asphalt jungle, longing to see her parents and her beloved nana.
Dear Nadya. Such an innocent and unworldly shrinking violet. Just what the heck is she doing in such a seamy business as this? Note the scene that has her picking berries alongside her grandmother. Listen to what she has to say about what true beauty is in a person. Wise beyond her years and certainly not a shallow gal, and yet seemingly more than willing to pose half-naked for photographers. Go figure.
There is a seedy undercurrent to this documentary; a seeming veneer of normality; some sensed whitewashing, perhaps, to go with its overall dreary cinematography.
I found Nadya's agent particularly off-putting, akin to a shady city slicker. This self-congratulatory fellow, who describes himself as a 'superstud,' believes he is helping to give these girls a leg up in life. He talks about his caring so much for these models of his, as if fancying himself some knight who has come to their rescue. Oh, how very noble of him. Rather distastefully, the dude, while speaking to the camera, holds up an identification card (this, a wink to the numbered labels given his easy marks as if they were branded cattle), with his own mock label reading '666.' (Hard not to read between the lines of this one.)
Then there is Ashley, the agent's primary if not lone model scout; an ex-model who gives off the impression that she's in a rut and has some issues. Admittedly, I found her somewhat interesting. We are taken inside her mausoleum, er, house -- an interior, sterile, empty and cold, as if unlived in and absent of love. She introduces us to her two babies -- plastic dolls, actually; a boy and a girl. Appearing unfriended and unattached, I couldn't help but feel sorry for her.
GIRL MODEL is an alternately engrossing and unsettling viewing experience. Although not a film about procurers and prostitutes, it comes awfully close to being one, and if not a stepping-stone towards a land of sunshine and roses, we learn that the modeling business definitely has the potential of becoming a slippery-slope.
The doc centers around 13-year-old Nadya, she of long blond hair and cherubic visage, who enters the modeling business with high hopes and big dreams, yet whose naivete ends up getting the better of her. Curiously, the bobbysoxer's parents are totally supportive of this pursuit of hers. In one scene, Nadya is shown winning an award for best-looking model. The ingenue is all smiles; the joyous mother teary-eyed and appearing ever so proud of her daughter.
A bevy of girls show up at these auditions, scantily clad in two-piece swimwear and skimpy underthings, but only a few are chosen. One girl is turned away on account of her acne. Another is told that she can be of use only if she is put on a diet. Later on in the film, yet a third is sent packing on account of her having gained two centimeters in the waistline. Each one of these aspiring exports are scrutinized for blemishes, blubber, and the like, and appraised for their photogenic value. Those who make the grade and pass the scrupulous screening process -- overseen by a fastidious arbitrator -- are shipped out to overseas markets, where there the plan is to earn some quick, easy cash before returning home to their jerkwater hamlets.
This may sound like your typical rags-to-riches fairy tale but it's anything but that. Once in Japan (home to anime animation) Nadya -- sans a tag-along interpreter -- finds herself shacked up in a squalid hole-in-the-wall, earning next to nothing for her photo shoots, and missing her family. Heartbreaking is the moment that has the near-penniless and forlorn debutante calling home, breaking down crying on the phone, as a lonely girl in a foreign asphalt jungle, longing to see her parents and her beloved nana.
Dear Nadya. Such an innocent and unworldly shrinking violet. Just what the heck is she doing in such a seamy business as this? Note the scene that has her picking berries alongside her grandmother. Listen to what she has to say about what true beauty is in a person. Wise beyond her years and certainly not a shallow gal, and yet seemingly more than willing to pose half-naked for photographers. Go figure.
There is a seedy undercurrent to this documentary; a seeming veneer of normality; some sensed whitewashing, perhaps, to go with its overall dreary cinematography.
I found Nadya's agent particularly off-putting, akin to a shady city slicker. This self-congratulatory fellow, who describes himself as a 'superstud,' believes he is helping to give these girls a leg up in life. He talks about his caring so much for these models of his, as if fancying himself some knight who has come to their rescue. Oh, how very noble of him. Rather distastefully, the dude, while speaking to the camera, holds up an identification card (this, a wink to the numbered labels given his easy marks as if they were branded cattle), with his own mock label reading '666.' (Hard not to read between the lines of this one.)
Then there is Ashley, the agent's primary if not lone model scout; an ex-model who gives off the impression that she's in a rut and has some issues. Admittedly, I found her somewhat interesting. We are taken inside her mausoleum, er, house -- an interior, sterile, empty and cold, as if unlived in and absent of love. She introduces us to her two babies -- plastic dolls, actually; a boy and a girl. Appearing unfriended and unattached, I couldn't help but feel sorry for her.
GIRL MODEL is an alternately engrossing and unsettling viewing experience. Although not a film about procurers and prostitutes, it comes awfully close to being one, and if not a stepping-stone towards a land of sunshine and roses, we learn that the modeling business definitely has the potential of becoming a slippery-slope.