‘Dirty Pop’ Netflix Review: An Unnecessary AI-fication Of A Dead Person’s Voice

There’s something I need to put out in the open at the outset. The infamous Lou Perlman, the focal point of Netflix’s latest docuseries Dirty Pop: The Boy Band Scam, died in 2016, eight years prior to the release. There is real footage of Perlman that has been used in the documentary, but his words are AI-generated. They’re from Perlman’s autobiography Band, Brands & Billions alright, but it’s still not the man actually talking. Sure, the makers are entitled to take such artistic liberties, but this feels like cheating to me. We’re going to address this later, but first, let us look into what the three-part docuseries is all about.


What Happens in the Documentary?

“Backstreet Boys” and “NSync” are some of the most popular nineties boy bands known all over the world, but how many of you know the man who was orchestrating the show? Lou Perlman was in the aviation industry, running this company called Trans Continental. Then one day, he decided to venture into the music industry. The year was 1992. Perlman put out an ad, wanting to assemble a boyband. And that’s how “Backstreet Boys” came to life. The rest is pretty much history, both for the largest selling boy band ever in history and Perlman. Not only did Lou Perlman make sure “Backstreet Boys” stayed relevant through many concerts, world tours, PR, and whatnot; he also took on the role of their sort of guardian. They called him the “Big Poppa,” and to the likes of Kevin Richardson, he was almost like a father figure. But the “Big Poppa” was not the kind of person they thought he was, after all. Turns out, he was pretty much scamming them—making a hell of a lot more money than them. The result was a lawsuit by BB member Brian Littrell in the year 1997, followed by the remaining four members also joining the legal battle. 

“Backstreet Boys” was not the only band that was being managed by Trans Continental. There was “NSync” as well. The Justin Timberlake-led band was the second most successful after BB. While they were aware of the allegations being made against Perlman, they still joined him, as they thought it would bring them fortune. While it’s true that Perlman did play an instrumental role in making the band world-famous, he did them dirty as well. Naturally, two years after BB did it, NSync also took the same route, going all legal against the man who once sold them dreams. Perlman did manage to settle the lawsuits. Even after parting ways with the bands, he continued to make money off of them. The man was clever enough to register himself as a “sixth” member of both bands, ensuring more money for him even if things went south—as they did.

Even though Perlman managed to bypass the lawsuits of BB and NSync, he didn’t have it easy afterwards. More lawsuits started to arrive, from other bands and artists with whom he was doing pretty much the same thing. But the real crime of Lou Perlman was much bigger than this. Lou Perlman, the same man responsible for the existence of all those boy bands, also turned out to be one of the biggest ponzi schemers in the history of America. He made so many of his “friends” invest in his business with the promise of great reward. As more investors kept joining, Perlman’s wrongdoings came under investigation, and by the year 2006-2007, the man had turned into a wanted fugitive, with the FBI chasing him all over the world. He did get caught, eventually, and was handed a twenty-five-year prison sentence. There was a catch though: a month from his sentence would be pardoned for each million he gave back. Well, Perlman barely returned any of the money he stole. Eight years after getting caught, he died thanks to a cardiac arrest in 2016. The documentary ended with people who closely knew him going through an introspection. Some are saying he was still a great friend, despite what he did. Then there are some, like his own attorney, who believe Perlman was nothing but a fraud and got what he deserved. 


Our Thoughts 

The true crime genre is clearly Netflix’s golden goose. It keeps giving and giving, and to be fair, most of the documentaries (and movies) are pretty well-made. They’ve got great production value and are always high on entertainment. Well, by entertainment, I meant these are the stories that keep the audience glued to the screen. There’s no doubt about the fact that Lou Perlman’s life story is tailor-made to get adapted by Netflix, and when you add the whole musical angle to that, it gets even better. Naturally, Dirty Pop: The Boy Band Scam seemed like quite a prospect to me. That in particular is why I just don’t understand why the makers would even consider doing that whole AI-gimmick. Yeah, I’m sure they thought it would be cool and add extra depth to it. But isn’t this a risky thing to attempt when you’re making a documentary about someone who just happens to be a fraud? AI-generated Perlman voice reading out paragraphs from his own books, while the archival footage of the real Perlman is being shown – that doesn’t feel alright to me. A regular narration without all that AI-fication would have been much better, I suppose.

And it does more harm than good, if you think about it. Intentionally or not, the documentary projects Perlman as this fascinating figure who got away most of the time, until he got caught. There’s no direct glorification, but an undertone of it is felt throughout all three episodes. My other issue would be the whole thing, by which I mean, the music part and crime part, not gelling too well even though they are interwoven in Perlman’s life. Ultimately, Dirty Pop: The Boy Band Scam is interesting in parts, but overall, it’s a hodgepodge kind of thing that is neither exploring nor entertaining. Maybe Lou Perlman’s story needed a movie adaptation in the hands of someone like Adam McKay, I’m just saying!


Rohitavra Majumdar
Rohitavra Majumdar
Rohitavra likes to talk about movies, music, photography, food, and football. He has a government job to get by, but all those other things are what keep him going.


 

 

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