Austyn Tester in Jawline (Hulu)

It’s no wonder that the empathetic Jawline was made, for its well-timed in its choice of subject matter. Like the feature Eighth Grade last summer, this documentary focuses on young teenagers and their use of social media, though they are not simply longing for connection here: they are actually trying to become rich and famous. Director Liza Mandelup points out both the allure and the pitfalls of this approach, particularly for those who come from poverty.

Austyn Tester, a teenager from a small town in Tennessee, is steadily gaining followers on the YouNow website, all of them girls more or less his age, by making inspirational videos. With perfectly combed hair and studied mannerisms, he clearly is grooming himself to be a teen idol (often, he is shirtless). He and his siblings live with their mother and don’t have much money—their alcoholic, abusive father has long since left them. Austyn’s endeavors are a source of excitement for his friends and family. All of them, his mother and older brother especially, want him to rise above their town of small means or opportunities.

Mandelup has an excellent eye for contrast, and she deftly captures the difference between the way that Austyn presents himself online and the reality of his life without overstating it—we see piles of clothes in his room, heaps of trash in his town, and the stack of dirty dishes in his sink. When he finally meets his female fans, we are able to see the strain of the forced relationships.

At the same time, Mandelup also follows 21-year-old Michael Wiest, a young social media mogul who manages the young and Instagram-famous and lives comfortably in Los Angeles. He refers to our current moment as “the Gold Rush” for social media, and it’s clear that he plans to stay rich, no matter what the cost. His and Austyn’s stories intersect, though not ultimately to Austyn’s favor.

Some of us roll our eyes the moment we hear that there is a documentary on the effects of social media; it might seem too obvious a subject, and many long for films as a refresher from the addictive technologies we have been fed. And what can such a documentary tell us that we don’t already know? Yet there are genuinely surprising aspects in Jawline. Social media is something we are constantly told that isolates, and doubtless many of us have experienced its isolating effects. However, so often in this film, trying to become internet famous is a social endeavor: Austyn shows his friends and family his videos for feedback, and Wiest’s clients always seem to be discussing strategy and are in constant communication with their fans.

Furthermore, these kids not only make their videos but tour nationally, appearing on stage to shout out their inspirational messages in person and give their many followers a chance to observe them in the flesh. Bo Burnham has remarked in interviews that the inspirational social media videos which informed Eighth Grade struck him as a form of prayer. On a similar note, these kids who make them struck me almost as a new incarnation of evangelist preachers, assuring the lonely thousands, through screens and on stage, that they too can be saved.

In spite of the film’s strengths, its scope is somewhat limited. For instance, we only hear about teenage boys whose fans are lonely, vulnerable teenage girls, and while this is clearly an industry in itself, we know that there are many other configurations of social media renown. Furthermore, these girls, when they are interviewed, repeatedly say they feel they have found real friends in these boys and that their internet friends are kinder to them than those they have not met through a screen. I don’t doubt that many teenagers do find real solace in the validation of these videos, but isn’t the internet also a realm of vicious tweets and cyberbullying? No film can address everything, yet I still finished this film with the sense that I had received a rounded portrait of the film’s main subject but only gotten a partial view of the issues at its core.

Nevertheless, viewers will have compassion for Austyn and criticism at the industry which exploits him. It’s not upbeat but a window to a new form of show business.