Viewers must draw their own conclusion about too many things featured in “Sugar Babies,” a sketchy documentary portrait of Autumn Johnson, a young self-fashioned entrepreneur who makes money by flirting with men online, but then never meets them in person.
Producer/director Rachel Fleit (“Bama Rush”) mainly focuses on the world according to Autumn, a twenty-something Louisiana college graduate who earned most of her college tuition as a self-described “cyber sugar baby.” Fleit often seems sympathetic to Autumn’s perspective, especially whenever she mentions Louisiana Governor John Bel Edwards’ multiple thwarted attempts at establishing a state-wide minimum wage. Times may be tough, and Autumn’s story may be mostly compelling in an anxious-making sort of way, but “Sugar Babies” often lacks vital context and feels more interested in sensationalizing the story rather than probing it.
It’s often hard to know what to feel about Autumn beyond an uneasy sort of fascination. Unfortunately, a lot of basic questions about her business practices go unanswered, despite the fact that she prides herself on helping young women (for a fee) to make hundreds or even thousands of dollars online by sending suggestive photos and solicitous private messages to strangers (mostly men) online. A lot of things remain either unsaid or partially unpacked throughout, including how or if she’s able to bait multiple patrons at a time without any negative consequences.
Seeing the world through Hailey’s eyes also sometimes makes it hard to take “Sugar Babies” seriously given how much of the movie’s on-camera interviews seem to be structured around superficial, folksy soundbites, like when her sister Hailey describes scamming men as “women empowerment.” Ok, but what kind of women and empowered to do what?
At one point, Fleit suggests that Autumn and her friends are on one side of an informal dividing line of class and race in Louisiana, especially when contrasted with Autumn’s upper class and predominantly white classmates at Louisiana Tech University. At least, it seems like Fleit’s making that suggestion. She quotes both Autumn and her on-again/off-again boyfriend Miquiel “Mighty” Carter, the latter of whom claims that Louisiana is split along its interstate. The racial implications of Autumn’s self-description as a “ghetto, ratchet” white girl also remain unexamined, even after she mentions that some of her fellow Louisiana Tech students must think she’s “tryin’ to be black, talkin’ like that.”
A few other major gaps in Autumn’s narrative makes it difficult to enjoy the surface tension that pervades most of “Sugar Babies.” Later in the movie, Autumn says that she sometimes met her sugar daddy clients in person and in order to get through these interactions, she’d pretend to be somebody else. It’s unclear how often that would happen or what exactly Autumn means when she says that she would “adopt a fake persona just so I can get through it” or be “really probably disgusted the whole time.”
Autumn also mentions feeling homesick after she moves “down South” to live with her best friend Lillian “Bonnie” McCurdy, but what else motivated her to go back to live with her parents, and what exactly made her feel “depressed?” And why isn’t there more basic information about Autumn’s relationship with Mighty, beyond their vague dreams of moving away and pride in making money on their terms?
Naturally, Autumn feels like she can do and see more of the world thanks to the money she makes as a sugar baby, but it’s hard to know why it matters that she feels like she can “use these men” to “become the rich”, especially when we don’t know who “these men” are or what Autumn usually does with her money. You’ll never forget that Autumn and her friends are as immature as they clearly are, like how she peppers her speech with “literally”s or when she refers to her pregnant sister-in-law’s vagina as a “hoo-ha.” Unfortunately, when you let younger characters speak for themselves at some length, it seems like you’re letting them hang themselves with ample rope. How else should we feel when Hailey boasts about promising to deliver photos to men and then conveniently blocks them? Is this sort of scam really that easy and if so, how?
It becomes increasingly difficult to shrug off basic questions about Autumn’s experiences given how few normalizing specifics there are throughout “Sugar Babies.” Autumn’s life online is often reduced to disorienting split-screen selfie collages, pouting and winking as if she’s addressing various potential clients. Autumn’s life in Louisiana also often boils down to various scenes of her and her friends hanging out or driving around without a clear destination in mind. No consequences or bad vibes allowed, just a series of indistinguishable trips to and from parts unknown.
That dizzying journey can sometimes be compelling given what’s on Autumn and her friends’ minds—ever hear of a marketplace app called Used Panties?—but there’s only so much to “Sugar Babies” given the filmmakers’ desire to prioritize sensationalistic details over journalistic ones.
