A brand new BBC documentary shines a bittersweet light on an epic era, fuelled by ruthless tabloids. Prepare yourself for the ultimate in 90s nostalgia, hard truths and floppy curtains.
This 3-part series features talking heads from the likes of Robbie Williams, Ritchie from 5ive and three of East 17’s four band members. This is Boybands Forever made by Louis Theroux’s company, Mindhouse.
Young men on stage with catalogue-groomed styling - or even matching outfits - has a history of causing mass hysteria. You only have to watch the latest BBC adaptation of Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light to see King Henry VIII (played by Damian Lewis) strutting his stuff in a flamboyant Turkish costume with his court pals, dancing to flutes and lutes with applause from flustered females. Fast forward to the 1960s when Beatlemania swept the globe. Whilst I’m fascinated by stories of those who were around to remember that, I grew up in prime boyband mayhem. From ab-revealing routines to perching on a stool, these boys in the nineties and the noughties had us hooked.
It started with NKOTB, an American sensation otherwise known as New Kids on the Block. I was introduced to the ‘Right Stuff’ by the teenage girl who lived next door. Ever keen to show her how “cool” I was, my nine year old self became a super fan in the hope I could hang out in her supercool room and listen to cassettes on her hifi system. She was into Donnie. And by into I mean that she was convinced she would marry him. Every inch of her bedroom walls were plastered with his face, including the ceiling. Unlike her, I didn’t live and breathe NKOTB, but I did my best with sticker books and writing the initials on my pencil case in TipEx. I decided to fall in love with Joey because he was the youngest band member and well, Donnie was clearly off the market.
Boybands Forever starts with a pop boyband from the UK who were to be NKOTB’s successor. A group of lads from Manchester, they were put together by manager Nigel Martin-Smith after he discovered the songwriting talents of a teenager called Gary Barlow. Of course, Gary needs no introductions now and after a rocky start, Take That exploded onto the music scene…and continue to do so. Inspired by my teenage neighbour (who had now grown up and moved on…without Donnie) I had a poster of Mark Owen on the ceiling above my bed so that he was the first face I woke up to each morning. It’s okay, I feel no shame. I remember the day Robbie left the band and girls crying on the school bus. One girl took a stash of keyrings the size of a football out of her bag to show everyone, every keyring a small photo of Robbie’s face in a plastic rectangular frame.
Robbie Williams features heavily in this documentary, as does Martin-Smith, but the two never meet and have still, to this day, not resolved the cracks in their relationship. Much of what is said is moving, particularly from Robbie who comes across brilliantly, whilst his ex-manager is somewhat hoping for redemption. Robbie Williams has since written an open letter to Nigel Martin-Smith.
The first episode also focuses on East 17 and how they brought rave culture to the squeaky clean pop world. Brian Harvey is shown in abundance and although he doesn’t appear as a talking head, his ex-girlfriend Daniella Westbrook speaks very openly about how destructive the tabloids - and the industry itself - were towards them and her. It’s uncomfortable to watch footage of Brian Harvey smashing his platinum discs, showing that the reality of being in a boyband was not what it seemed.
Yesteryear cranks up a level in the following episodes when we are reminded of bands such as 5ive, 911, Damage, Boyzone, Westlife and Blue. Various members from the bands talk to the camera sharing gossip and truths from flashing their abs to being mobbed everywhere they went. Their lives were 24/7, relentless, and as Ritchie Neville from 5ive says, “There was no off switch.” They were just young lads, mostly from working class backgrounds and shot to fame within a matter of months. Sure, this was accompanied by adoration and fancy hotels, but it also came with exploitation, lack of control and a pay check of around £100 a week while the boys’ managers made millions. Lee Brennan of 911 fame said, “That level of fame, it can do so many good things for you, but can be really negative.”
Recently, I read Kill Your Friends by John Niven. It was published in 2008 but had slipped past my radar until now. Watching Boybands Forever was like seeing Niven’s characters come to life and it made my skin crawl. The author’s background was deep in the music industry before he turned to writing full-time, so the plot of the novel - set in London 1997, the height of 90s pop mania - is authentic, brutal and shocking. The era of Simon Cowell’s puppet mastery going on in the background before he flaunted it under the X-Factor spotlight. Although fiction and far-fetched, there is so much reality drawn into this story surrounding the truth behind what we saw on the cover of Smash Hits. It all feels very raw after the tragic death of One Direction’s Liam Payne and it’s sad to think that the industry hasn’t changed that much. Yes there is triumph in the success of these bands, plus unbreakable bonds in most circumstances, but there is control, manipulation and nobody listening to cries for help. As written in Robbie Williams’ recent open letter to ex-Take That manager Martin-Smith, "If you are following the story closely, you can’t help but notice a pattern emerge. Boys join a boyband. The band becomes huge. Boys get sick. Some are fortunate through a series of self-examinations and help to overcome their experience. Some never quite manage to untangle the mess of the wreckage of the past.”
Both Ritchie Neville and Lee Brennan support the Liam’s Law petition, a plea to safeguard young stars’ mental health that started after Liam died in Buenos Aires last month. “I could not support that more,” says Neville. “You have an affinity with people in bands. When One Direction took off, you couldn’t help looking at them in the press and thinking, ‘How are they doing?’”
As entertaining as this documentary is, bursting with baggy jeans and winks to camera, seeing Simon Cowell grace our screens wearing dark shades, making zero eye contact and wearing his trademark black paints a sinister picture. He’s softer these days - apparently - since becoming a father and his interview on podcast Diary of a CEO is interesting to hear the other side of the man we grew up calling Mr Nasty, but this documentary sees him in his old light. “There is a contract you sign,” he says, blaming the boys for being in charge of their own fate, “Which says, I will be available to shake every hand, to have my picture taken whenever requested and my privacy now has pretty much disappeared. It’s just a fact. If you don’t want that, be an accountant. You can’t have it both ways.”
Can’t you?
Surely a world where we beg to differ seems brighter. Especially if there’s a key change.
// Hayley Doyle
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