Entertainment
May 01, 2026
Hollywood consistently struggles to convincingly portray pop stardom on screen, despite pop culture…
The Hollywood Pop Star Paradox
For anyone with even the slightest interest in Hollywood, it is not entirely surprising that Anne Hathaway recently appeared on Popcast, the New York Times critics' podcast that has become a premier destination for music promotion. After all, the actor – whose last appearance in a musical bagged her an Academy Award – is a major part of one of the best recent movies to show pop stardom on screen.
The Challenge of Creating Fictional Pop Icons
The Idea of You successfully conveyed the idea that Hayes Campbell (Nicholas Galitzine) was the breakout star of a crushable 2010s boyband with a feral fanbase called August Moon. And by "successfully conveyed", I mean the film remixed a string of One Direction-esque iconography – the jaunty rock-lite choruses, fizzy cheerfulness and class clown antics – into actual music videos and convincingly banal bops. The bar is low; many, many films have created bespoke pop stars and/or music for alternate cultural histories, but vanishingly few transcend pastiche.
When High Ambition Meets Disappointment
I found myself missing the catchy yet entirely forgettable output of August Moon while watching the much more highbrow-aiming Mother Mary, which similarly tries very hard to conjure the magic of a generational pop icon by remixing the recognizable. Diva signatures abound – Mother Mary struts like Taylor Swift, stuns in goddess repose a la Beyoncé and bears the ornate hand tattoos of Ariana Grande. She shares with Lady Gaga an imperial remove, haute styling and maternal forbearance (as well as some biography – Lowery seems more than a little inspired by Gaga's mid-career falling out with Laurieann Gibson, the creative director behind her first two albums.)
The Elusive Quality of Authentic Stardom
It's certainly not for lack of trying, nor caring. By all accounts, the pop elements of Mother Mary, meant to color a character whose relationship to fandom serves as an overarching metaphor, were made with great reverence for an artform often easily dismissed as, well, easy. On the Popcast, Hathaway waxes poetic about studying pop music like an academic, and Mother Mary certainly appears erudite – speaking nonsense, sure, but well-versed in the precise choreography, deific grace and outsized persona of an archetypical pop star. But the effect is not, as FKA twigs put it in the same interview, "total feeling" despite imperfect approximation.
The Real Thing vs. Fictional Creation
It helps to bank on the real thing. Though Bradley Cooper's A Star Is Born was ultimately about a fading male rock star, it is Lady Gaga's meta-transformation, from high camp into stripped-down singer-songwriter with glinting ambition, that powered the anthemic Shallow into a crossover hit. The imagination of an alternate, artistically compromised Brat Summer in Charli xcx's satirical mockumentary The Moment was ultimately listless, but the film at least had some of her volatile star power to burn. That prospect of verisimilitude to the real, established thing propels our evergreen fascination with the much more successful genre of musical biopics, from Michael to Rocketman, Bohemian Rhapsody to Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere.
When Pop Stardom Works as Backdrop
A handful of recent movies have fared better when using pop stardom as a backdrop to the action, rather than thematic engine. The horror films Trap and Smile 2, released in 2024, both staked arena shows for youth-skewing female stars as the focal point for genre conventions, built out with music videos, Drew Barrymore crossover appearances celeb cameos and original music befitting a mid-tier musician. The recessive output of Skye Riley (Naomi Scott) or Lady Raven (Saleka Shyamalan, daughter of director M Night) works, in that it appears as generic to some (say, Josh Hartnett's girl dad / serial killer) as it is indispensable to young fans.
The Most Compelling Pop Star Portrayals
Each of these carve some vague path through the vast morass of modern celebrity; far fewer have the nerve to actually commit to a corner. Alex Russell's criminally underseen Lurker, released last year, strategically deploys atmospheric, entrancing music, with just enough snippets of video, to pad a portrait of toxic adjacency, in which an obsessive fan wheedles his way into a singer's entourage that got too comfortable laundering trust and envy. But it's Vox Lux, Brady Corbet's 2018 precursor to The Brutalist, that remains the most divisive and compelling pop star movie in recent memory for its pitch-black view of pop music as fundamentally empty, stardom a Faustian bargain.
The Future of Pop Stardom on Screen
Vox Lux, at least, expressed some irreducible confidence nowhere to be found in Mother Mary's diva-off. For all its posturing, and for Hathaway and Michaela Coel's sincere commitment to chewing scenery, the film is surprisingly weightless – untethered from the real humiliations, the grueling labor, the compromised artistry that makes pop stardom such a potent subject in the first place. Hollywood may continue to try its hand at creating pop stars, but until it understands that the magic cannot simply be manufactured, these portrayals will remain echoes rather than icons.