JAWLINE: A Harrowing Look Into Social Media Stardom

When I’m deep in a YouTube black hole, between cat videos, Vine compilations, and extreme zit popping clips – yes, unfortunately, the latter exists in shocking multitudes – I’ll occasionally find myself watching some 10-minute video from a pretty-faced teen I’ve never heard of. Their stories are inconsequential but reek of endless positivity, their goals are lofty, and they never fail to remind us that their social media is “in the bio.” Their confidence is enviable, and they truly believe they’ve got something to say. Sometimes I wonder why they’re even recording… until I remind myself that I’m the one watching them.

Director Liza Mandelup’s Jawline is a behind-the-scenes look into the lives of any of the wide-eyed, boy-banged social media stars you’ve watched and wondered, “Why are they famous in the first place?” With access that’s excruciating at times and openminded honesty, the documentary is a fascinating and realistic look into what it takes to achieve viral fame as a teen, how to maintain it, and how fast it’ll spit you out.

A Boy in the Social Media Gold Rush…

The story is told through the eyes – and jawline, I suppose – of Austyn Tester, a 16-year-old nano-celeb from Tennessee who found his come-up through Musical.ly and YouNow, a now-defunct live broadcasting app. Tester doesn’t sing, dance, or act, but attracts a sizable following talking about his dreams and encouraging viewers to do the same. In one moment of both faux wisdom and pure authenticity, he manicures his nails before going live, then describes the world as full of explorers and settlers, stating he is meant to be an explorer. Tester comes from humble, if not rocky, beginnings, but his enthusiasm is enough to nab him a spot on a social media meet-up tour with Internet celebs Julian and Jovani Jara, where he’s managed and greeted by hundreds of screaming girls every night, taking selfies and treated like royalty.

But in a saturated market of gorgeous guys capitalizing on the influencer gold rush, it isn’t just a matter of creating content. After the tour, Tester struggles to capitalize on his sliver of notoriety and readjust to his slow small town life on the opposite coast of his L.A.-based idols.

His story is mirrored by Michael Weist’s day-to-day business in influencer talent management. Flamboyant, charismatic, and at times, perhaps, only performing the role of high-powered Hollywood exec, Weist manages big-name talent like Bryce Hall and Mikey Barone at the time of filming. His job is helping influencers take their game to the next level by negotiating brand deals, organizing events, taking them on Rodeo Drive shopping sprees, and getting the occasional hickey from fans. If anything, his story goes to show the hard work that goes into maintaining viral relevancy, and the vastly uncharted and unregulated wealth and power that come with it. 

Somewhere in the middle lies the narrative of the fangirls who bring rise to the entire industry. Mandelup weaves their stories together in montages as they recount the bullying, outcasting, and rough home lives that lead them to find solace in boys like Tester, whose through-the-screen positivity and presence fulfill the roles of both supportive best friend and dream boyfriend.

…And We Don’t Know How We Feel About It

Mandelup is a master of pure observation around all her subjects, so it’s no surprise the doc scored her a U.S. Documentary Special Jury Award for Breakthrough Filmmaker at this year’s Sundance Film Festival. Regardless of your personal opinion on social media, technology, and celebrity, Tester and his fans’ and friends’ worlds are presented without judgment or conclusion.

The slow grind in Tester’s hometown of Kingsport, Tennessee is shown through unhurried B-roll of local diners, watering holes, rural nature, and his family’s growing kittens – shout out to those cat videos mentioned earlier. We understand why he wants to get out of what feels like a dead-end town, and why his family wants it so badly for him too.

In contrast, the ear-deafening, manic meet-and-greets are a blur magnified by depth and perspective. Especially hypnotizing shots of fans taking selfies offer a snapshot into the individual, reminding us that there are everyday stories in a sea of other subjects pursuing fame so ruthlessly. Meanwhile, soft, experimental, and eerie tracks underscore the majority of the film, sometimes strangely comforting, and sometimes suggesting a level of uneasiness to the hyper-connected tweens we see amidst selfie shots, computer screen glows, and the currency of likes and followers.

Mandelup doesn’t let us get wrapped up in the follower counts, video views, and blue checkmark verifications that define cyber status. There are no bells and whistles or fancy animations, and some of the doc’s most affecting moments are away from a computer screen entirely. Austyn and his mom get into an argument about his attitude after returning from tour and the cameras keep rolling as our leading man tries to fight the discipline while maintaining his charming celeb persona because he’s being recorded.

Another moment in the doc finds us at one of Austyn’s fan meet-ups at a shopping mall. Local girls, and some who drove as far as two hours to get there, tail him with phone cameras like a shared boyfriend on an awkward middle school date. Tester relishes in the love and adoration but strains to find the perfect thing to say to each fan, who stake a claim to his time without truly knowing him. One girl tears up while saying goodbye because she thinks he doesn’t remember her name, a reminder of the weird line straddled between our online and real-life personas, and what we take away from the both of them.  

Jawline: Conclusion

Jawline is an honest and nuanced look at social media stardom and what it’s doing for young millennials and Generation Z. It’s hard to conclude whether Tester’s pursuit of viral fame and his time on tour is for better or worse, but that’s not the point. Mandelup’s inclusion of other characters like Weist suggests that the story is much bigger than one country boy trying to make it out of his small town, and the fangirl testimonials are proof that whether these influencers make it to Hollywood or not, they’re making an impact.

But where do we go from here? By the time of the documentary’s release, Tester is working as a barista and has all but quit social media, while Weist has made settlements with both Hall and Barone following sexual assault allegations and dealt with Tana-Con, aka the YouTube version of Fyre Fest.

Mandelup reserves judgment for the viewer, leaving us with an authentic and touching vision of what it’s like to dream, connect, and hustle for a niche group of tweens and teens chasing notoriety and love in a way that preceding generations never have before.

What do you think about social media and the heavy supply of content creators? Are you a fan of any YouTubers or other social media influencers? Let us know in the comments!

Jawline opens in select theaters in the US and streaming on Hulu on August 23, 2019. For additional international release dates, see here.