… Hold up, what! Yes, that last element—Perry’s emotions about the end of her marriage to Brand—is included in the documentary, an impressive move that gives audience members a legitimately genuine glimpse into the singer’s real-life melodrama. But that’s probably the realest part of “Part of Me,” which otherwise is as slick and commercial-like a production as you would expect.
Perry in many, many cutesy outfits, dressed up like candy and ice cream and other delectable treats? Yes. Perry nonironically saying things like, “How could you ever be too cartoony?” Yes. Perry talking about how she settled upon her safely sexy, pinup girl-next-door image? Um, no. Perry discussing her songwriting process regarding huge hits like “I Kissed a Girl,” “California Gurls,” “Teenage Dream,” “E.T.,” “Last Friday Night,” and “Part of Me”—all aided by American songwriter and producer Dr. Luke? Again, nope. The really enlightening things about Perry, like how she settled upon her current kooky persona and how her and Dr. Luke have worked together to create those ginormous hits, aren’t present. Perhaps that would be too truthful for this kind of self-boosting production.
Because, let’s be real, that’s all “Katy Perry: Part of Me” is. Filmed during Perry’s sold-out 2011 world tour in support of her 2010 “Teenage Dream” album (the footage was later shaped and edited by directors Dan Cutforth and Jane Lipsitz into a cohesive narrative) and including interviews with Perry’s parents, relatives, friends and other close confidantes, the documentary covers Perry’s early life, growing up in a strictly religious home, to her first few years as a struggling artist. It then jumps into her current success, including performances from her tour—but, strangely, never a full song—and backstage hi-jinks. Jokes about flatulence? That’s so Katy Perry!
What else is so Katy Perry, according to “Part of Me”: glitter, wigs, being glam, decorated bikini tops, things spraying out of her bra (which are what add to the inflated 3-D ticket price), and Candyland, especially because her Pentecostal minister parents shielded her from sinful things like pop music and candy while she was growing up. (According to her brother, the cereal Lucky Charms was a no-no because “luck is of Lucifer.”) Other things that are stressed as demonstrative of Perry are her love for her fans, her zany grandmother who lives in Las Vegas, and Brand—at least, before the marriage fell apart.
But while Perry is, undoubtedly, charming, geeky, and seemingly genuine, a big-screen production like “Part of Me” is, by its nature, patently inauthentic. Moments like Perry dissolving into tears before a big concert in Brazil upon realizing her partnership with Brand was over are a glimpse into that part of her life, but still feel fairly exploitative, or included purely for our benefit.
Overall, “Part of Me” is like a pat on the back for any Perry fan, a reassurance that they’ve made the right choice in liking her and her music. “I’ve been listening to her since I first heard her!” a fan beams, part of a series of interviews with those who say Perry changed their lives. Good for them. This documentary is all for you—and not much use for anyone else.
