Directed by Soleil Moon Frye
Runtime: 71 minutes
Streaming on Hulu starting March 12

by Gary M. Kramer, Staff Writer

Soleil Moon Frye spent much of her young life in front of the camera, rising to fame as Punky Brewster on the eponymous hit TV series in the mid-80s. She also videotaped much of her life off screen, filming herself, her friends, and her family after her series ended and as she grew older. Now, with her wistful documentary, Kid 90, the actress/filmmaker now reexamines her life and wonders, “Did this happen as I remember?”

Frye opens a Pandora’s Box of archival footage, from her videotapes, photographs, answering machine messages, and diaries, which she had stored away for two decades. She talks directly to the camera and processes the experience of looking back at her life. Frye describes it as a “coming-of-age” story as seen by an adult reliving their youth. It is a canny approach, and the valuable clips from the footage she recorded is why this story of young Hollywood works as well as it does. (It’s fun to see a young Leo DiCaprio, who executive produced, but sad to catch a glimpse of the late Dustin Diamond)

Kid 90 includes Frye’s contemporary interviews with other young stars including Brian Austin Green and Mark-Paul Gosselaar, as well as friends and fellow actors such as Stephen Dorff, David Arquette, and Balthazar Getty. The interviews are occasionally revealing, as when Gosselaar talks about having to act like an adult when he was in an awkward teenage period, or Green recounts releasing a critically panned hip-hop album, his first real experience of failure. 

Frye recounts a key moment from her difficult teenage years, when she had breast reduction surgery. This was one of several times in her life where she didn’t feel comfortable with herself and had concerns that people would not take her seriously. While her emotions are very real, Kid 90 asks viewers to pity Frye and some of her contemporaries, who were having the celebrity life that many fans admired or desired. But it is hard to feel too sorry for young, rich, good looking Hollywood teens partying. Los Angeles is a bubble, and Frye acknowledges that, but her guilt—that she didn’t pay close enough attention to her friends who were crying out for help—is more a wakeup call for her, than viewers.

The documentary is a cautionary tale, and it addresses some of Frye’s friends who died by suicide. It is painful to hear the late Jonathan Brandis’ messages to Frye. Kid 90 emphasizes that life in the spotlight at such a young age is difficult; one just has to endure it. When Frye observes late in the film that life is “beautiful, messy, and complicated,” it is hardly profound. 

The juxtaposition of Frye dispelling “Just Say No!” messages publicly and then going out with her friends and doing ecstasy and mushrooms is not surprising. Nor are some of the candid discussions of sex. Frye crushed on bad boys like Johnny Depp and Charlie Sheen, and her story about losing her virginity is somewhat troubling. (Her teenage experiences getting pinched and stared at after she started developing surely contributed to her low self-esteem at this age). It is particularly creepy to hear the voice messages Sheen leaves her. But more could have been made about being a vulnerable young starlet. 

To her credit, Frye is very likeable throughout the doc. Kid 90 is gratifying when she leaves Los Angeles for New York to get away from the toxic environment. She finds a sense of freedom and self-worth being on her own. It is both corny and charming when she and a cab driver sing “New York, New York” when she arrives in the Big Apple at 5 am. Watching Frye soon get involved with young skateboarders, including Justin Pierce, is not uninteresting, nor is her later reuniting with Danny Boy O’Connor (of House of Pain fame), her best friend and occasional boyfriend. He too, got too close to the sun and has moved out of L.A. to the less stressful Tulsa, OK. 

Kid 90 shows the pain and growth Frye has experienced and how she has survived and thrived. This documentary provides a not uninteresting glimpse into a rarified world. However, it may work best as an extended form of redemptive therapy for its filmmaker.