The juiciest celebrity scandals often expose something that, deep down, many of us already suspect about the way the world really works. This was certainly the case with the FBI’s “Operation Varsity Blues” setup, which captured the public’s imagination when news of it broke out in March 2019. The feds confirmed that several mega-wealthy parents had paid millions of dollars to an academic ” coach, ”Rick Singer, who then bribed university officials and even paid a professional candidate to place his clients’ children in elite colleges. Part of what made the story so sensational was the high profile of the names involved – including well-known actors Felicity Huffman and Lori Loughlin. But the wave of arrests also seemed like a fair and delayed reckoning for all those people who think that having too much money gives them the right to cut the queue.
But was all the indignation misdirected? Netflix documentary by Chris Smith Operation Varsity Blues: the college admissions scandal reframes the story in unexpected ways. While not letting the Huffmans and Loughlins in all of this sordid saga get off the hook, the film suggests that there is more reason to be upset here than just spoiling some unworthy rich kids.
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Smith had an eclectic and adventurous film career, ranging from tortuous documentaries like American film for kindly artistic humor pieces like Home movie and captivating journalistic exhibitions like Fira. With Operation Varsity Blues, Smith and his writer / editor / producer Jon Karmen combine some rigorous reporting with some bold storytelling choices, shaking off the common documentary concept of “dramatic reconstruction”. Based mainly on the official transcripts of the FBI clips, the film has a cast of talented actors – including Matthew Modine as a singer – treating phone conversations as a script, imbued with energy and real nuances.
These reconstructions make up about half of the image and are scattered everywhere. The rest of Operation Varsity Blues it looks more like a conventional documentary, using footage from old news – including clips of real people that Modine and the rest of the cast are showing – and original interviews. Most of the interviews are with the journalists who covered the story, although Smith’s team also talks extensively with some people who knew Singer personally, as well as with former Stanford sailing coach John Vandemoer, who feels unfairly indicted by choices out of your control.
Vandemoer’s testimony is essential for Operation Varsity Blues‘bigger point. Much of the scandal’s initial coverage focused on one of Singer’s smart back doors to the most prestigious universities. He targeted the coaches of athletic programs with few resources, such as water polo, tennis and rowing, sending his departments (or sometimes just the coaches themselves) large donations in exchange for some guaranteed vacancies in their teams, which his false ones “student athletes” would never really catch on. According to Vandemoer, this palm greasing and exchange of favors is business as usual in the most exclusive colleges; and it happens openly. He insists he didn’t take any of Singer’s money for himself. He gave the check directly to his boss, who, revealingly, no lose their jobs – because paying for large donor deposits is practically It is the job.
What this documentary suggests is that while Singer was facilitating fraud by falsifying transcripts and altering exam scores – all with his clients’ tacit and sometimes explicit approval – he was ultimately only taking advantage of a system that best universities have created, which already unfairly inclined towards the privileged. Wealthy parents already spend stacks of money on tutors to improve performance on standardized tests, and they are already looking for angles that other poorer candidates are not playing at – from writing large donation checks to convincing pediatricians to diagnose their children with learning difficulties. learning.
Unfortunately, while Operation Varsity Blues is extremely critical of the college gatekeepers in demand – many of whom feel that their acceptance letters are too valuable to be sent without some kind of bribe – the biggest disaster in the film is the lack of contribution from the academic side. Vandemoer has a lot to say about how things worked at Stanford, but he is no longer employed there. Even if spokesmen for the universities involved, like Yale and Georgetown, simply went back to cliché (or “no comment”) statements, listening something of them may have been more pertinent than hearing the gossip impressions of people who went out with Singer.
That said, it’s hard to blame Smith and the company for putting Singer at the center of his film … and not just because Modine is as charismatic as a sly-talking conspirator. The transcripts that actors and filmmakers are dramatizing say a lot about the real expectations of Singer’s clients, who seemed to care more about saying their son joined USC than what can really happen when they arrive on campus. What is clear in this film – if it was not already obvious – is that sometimes the ways in which the rich and powerful thrive have nothing to do with merit. Sometimes, they simply buy access to people like Singer, who are good at selling their customers a story they can tell.