Selena Gomez: My Mind & Me Review

There is a particular thread to behind-the-scenes documentaries that are ghoulishly vulnerable. Projecting the experience of something real and evocative, where actually the cutting room floor leaves a bounty of actual worth and merit. Whatever the case, behind-the-scenes pieces like Selena Gomez: My Mind & Me are a saving grace for the megafans but a bit strange for those outside of that bubble. The same can be applied to Taylor Swift and Lady Gaga, a pair of extremely talented musicians that opened the door to their personal life for no particular reason. Interesting? Absolutely. But what good comes from it. It is knowledge of the disease that is fandom. Selena Gomez is the one to deal with it, and does so throughout this documentary piece.

Ghoulish springs to mind, invading the six-year period of a tumultuous reinvention and exceptionally busy period in the life of a former Disney star. Navigating that pathway with success is a rare occasion but it does come through from time to time. Selena Gomez: My Mind & Me is a constant showcase of a tired soul in desperate need of a break from the competitive freakshow of fandom. How much of that is played up by the star of the show, though? Her promise to tell the “dark secrets” and nothing more is the hook for a fandom hungry to pretend they feel a personal connection. Some are moved further by that than others, and in darker, concerning ways. Twitter parody accounts and referencing the artist in every mention they can is only a few steps away from what Mark David Chapman ended up doing.

Satisfaction for the fan is key to Selena Gomez: My Mind & Me, but even those on the outside can appreciate the talent on display. How that has changed into some commercial viability and how much of that has an impact on the personal life and ability to live a conscious and enjoyable stream is explored somewhat throughout this Alek Keshishian piece. It is no coincidence that he charted the controversial series of heydey moments of Madonna in the early 1990s. Lesser success came with Fergie’s Double Duchess: Seeing Double followed decades later, but the implication of Keshishian’s work is there. He preys on the intimate moments that should be kept private, for if they are not, it only takes a screengrab and a caption for a megafan to make it a “so me” moment, which Selena Gomez: My Mind & Me, is full of.

That is not to disparage the earnestness of the documentary, though. There is a sincerity to Gomez that could not be engaged otherwise. It is the awful line of putting life in the limelight. Gomez’s sincerity in her desire to grow as not just an artist and performer but person is keenly observed throughout Selena Gomez: My Mind & Me, a piece that should take caution and note of its audience. Health woes, personal growth and a series of intimate moments that are either truly genuine or a ploy to hook the already manic fans. Either way, it works, and Gomez comes across as a megastar that deserves a privacy not showcased in this Keshishian feature.