The first is the memoir I'm Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy who rose to fame on Nickelodeon's iCarly, which ran on the network between 2007 and 2013. The book was an instant New York Times Bestseller.
The second tackled the subject indirectly - Nathan Fielder's The Rehearsal. It would take more than one article to attempt to explain what that show meant. But one scene involving a child actor has been replaying in my head since the last episode aired. Whether planned for comedic effect or not, it has stuck with me.
McCurdy's memoir had an even deeper impact on how I look back at children's TV. The book is a heartbreaking account of not wanting anything to do with the path she was put on by an abusive mother and a children's network showrunner. And several anecdotes she shares have tainted every happy memory I had of watching Nickelodeon as a child. As they should.
Both are linked in timing - McCurdy's memoir came out in August and Fielder's HBO series concluded the same month.
And, both are linked in how they have seemingly taken over social media. Twitter is filled with hot takes about the real meaning behind the Rehearsal, and TikTok is steeped with reviews and reactions of readers of I'm Glad My Mom Died.
In his series, Fielder tries to orchestrate the realities of a parent in a social experiment of sorts involving a real aspiring mother and fake children played by young actors, from babies to teenagers. A toddler is so involved in The Rehearsal that his mother demands Nathan explains repeatedly he is not the child's real father. The kid, bewildered, cannot be convinced that his acting job is not real life.
The Rehearsal. Photo / HBO
McCurdy details harrowing allegations of being heavily persuaded to drink alcohol underage, made to wear a bikini by a man she refers to as "The Creator". Meanwhile, her own mother actively encourages her eating disorder - alongside her character being known for her love of food.
In interviews since the release of the work, McCurdy has gone on record condemning what she went through as a child actor. She alleges in her memoir Nickelodeon offered her US$300,000 to never speak of her time with the network publicly again.
She told the Washington Post: "But it was really unfortunate, everything that happened in a children's television series environment. It really seems like there's not much of a moral compass there."
I naively hope sets have more of a moral compass today. But in 2022, child stardom isn't just through a controlled environment like a film set or a reality TV show. Parents who have nothing but an iPhone and photogenic children can build an audience of millions for their offspring. In a piece for Wired, Ellen Walker argues privacy and labour laws in the US haven't kept up with this new era of social media stars.
The pitfalls of family vloggers have long been documented, but TikTok is encouraging a new era of family fame. A young star can bankroll an entire family's lifestyle with lucrative brand deals.
When I look back on the Nickelodeon or Disney stars I was obsessed with in my youth, I feel a pang of guilt. Even my later obsessions with Dance Moms and Cheer have had me questioning how ethical it actually is to put children on a pedestal, only to watch them fail years later when the pressure catches up to them.
I just hope that as viewers and consumers we take care of the next generation of young stars. We owe people like Jennette McCurdy that much.
