Luke Korem’s look at the great lip-syncing scandal of 1990 benefits handsomely from the sort of retrospective reassessment that is so popular in these sorts of documentaries. Milli Vanilli is surprisingly sensitive in its tracing of the rise and fall of Fab Morvan and Rob Pilatus, the dance act collectively known as Milli Vanilli who were unfathomably popular in the late ’80s/early ’90s…until it was discovered that theirs were not the voices on their albums. At the time, they were ridiculed and all responsibility was heaped on them—never mind they had a svengali, Frank Farian, who previously traded in this type of vocalist-performer deception with his disco act Boney M, and never mind that they had a huge label, Clive Davis’ Arista, behind them, propping up their lie.
Morvan is still around to tell his side of the story, which he does sympathetically and with clarity. There’s even footage of a recent performance in which he sang a Milli Vanilli song—pretty well! But Pilatus, who died from a drug overdose in 1998, is the real tragic figure here: an orphan who found in the masses the love he had always sought, only to have it snatched away from him when he flew too close to the sun. —Rich Juzwiak