Samantha MacKenzie spent her childhood throwing tea parties with her closest friends, just like every other little girl. She quickly adopted and grew out of classic preteen insecurities, but like all teenagers, continues to believe that the whole world is criticizing her every move. Even then, she shared her trinkets and tea with hired bodyguards and stuffed animals. The parties she attended were televised networking and campaigning events, and as the daughter of the current U.S. president, Sam feels the whole world is watching her because a large fraction of it is.
The 2004 film First Daughter portrays Sam’s journey trying to have a “normal” college life while living an inherently abnormal life. It focuses on Sam’s romance with James, whom she believes is a fellow college student but is really an undercover Secret Service agent. However, First Daughter also shares an important message about the psychological toll of being a young public figure.
“Promise me you would never let me leave the house looking like that,” a talk show host says to her co-anchor, giggling at a video of Sam taken by paparazzi. The host then looks to the audience, asking what they believe is the worst outfit Samantha MacKenzie has ever worn. First Daughter brings attention to the blatant but normalized ridicule of famous children. As a part of the First Family, Sam is expected to face this public shaming even though she’s only eighteen.
Child actors are similarly unsympathetically criticized. As Stranger Things star Millie Bobby Brown grew in popularity, the public discourse about her grew in tandem. A minor during the show’s 2017 press tour, Brown was subjected to vitriol about everything from her “bad” fashion choices to her allegedly rude disposition. Worse was the intense sexualization she faced from viewers when she was just thirteen years old. Brown’s treatment as a figure in Hollywood is an unfortunate trend of the media’s sexualization of teenage girls. The suggestive dressing of and reaction to Britney Spears on the Rolling Stone cover and Miley Cyrus on Vanity Fair both come to mind.
Throughout the movie, we see Sam go to great lengths to hide from paparazzi and ignore the hatred spewed at her, revealing a snippet of the emotional and mental consequences of such fame. Intense public scrutiny of minors is linked to severe depression, anxiety, drug abuse, and eating disorders, and their experience in a mature work environment can introduce them to a cycle of self-scrutiny and rejection.
Sam’s role as the First Daughter extends beyond a mere title; her whole life revolves around her dad’s position, and such responsibilities bleed into her university experience, social life, and relationship with her parents. Her drive to college is through roads flanked by crowds of political supporters and protesters, and on campus she is followed by visible bodyguards, setting her apart from fellow students. For instance, at a pool party she attends, her bodyguards jump at the sight of a weapon and quickly shut the event down, only for it to be revealed that the weapon was only a water gun. When Sam brings up this issue with her father, he shuts her distress down, recognizing the negative impact the fame has on her but selfishly making no change, being more invested in his image than his daughter.
Time after time, her parents show a blatant disregard for Sam. On her way to college, Sam vocalizes that this is not what she dreamed of when she thought about leaving for university. Her mother responds, “It’s okay, honey. Next life.” The President and First Lady stay preoccupied with their own affairs and admit that the life Sam wants will never be possible, while refusing to consider a change. Sam’s parents never acknowledge that she didn’t consent to being in the public eye. Because of a situation that was always and will always be completely out of Sam’s control, her life is forever impeded.
Again, Sam’s powerlessness mirrors the experiences of child actors. Jennette McCurdy, a star of the famed Nickelodeon show iCarly, released her memoir titled I’m Glad My Mom Died in 2022, in which she described her life as “under the stringent control of her mother.” She was six years old when she first attended an audition, young enough to demonstrate interest in acting but too young to have been repeatedly thrusted into the industry and treated as a means to relieve financial burden. While not directly under the command of her parents, Sam’s life is determined by the influence of her parents’ fame. At her California college, Sam is required to spend one of her first nights at a dinner with prominent school administration, conversing with adults more than triple her age about her father’s platform. Her friends attempt to lure her away to a party, but try as she might, Sam cannot escape the responsibilities bestowed by her familial relations.
Sam is treated not as a person but as a commodity to further the presidential image. In fact, when Sam’s father spoke in a press conference on Sam’s departure, he was instructed to use it as a way to promote his public education policy. The blurring of the lines between daughter and business partner sour family relations, cementing the transition from the Mackenzie family to the First Family. Prominent child actor Allison Stoner mentioned in a Huffpost interview that already complicated relationships become even more complex when children enter fame: “there are people who are supposed to be looking out for [a child’s] well-being: guardians, set teachers who also act as welfare workers, Standards and Practices, the union… Yet, in almost every case, none of these people are actually neutral third-parties; their livelihood is intertwined with, affected by, and dependent on the child’s ability to perform and a production’s ability to get the shot on time.”
Nothing quite portrays intricate familial dynamics in the spotlight like the newly popularized family vloggers. Famous for letting viewers in on their family’s daily personal life, family vloggers have also been condemned for their flagrant monetization of children without their informed consent. When children turn into cash cows, a parent’s mindset can easily shift focus from what is best for the child to what is best for their bank account. Family vlogging often capitalizes on a child’s extreme emotions, teaching them that their emotions aren’t worth comfort. The incessant filming also violates the children’s privacy and ties them to a brand they never agreed to be aligned with.
Sam’s parents will never be able to make a decision solely for their daughter’s benefit when her public performance is so influential for their image. President Mackenzie’s recurrent dismissal of Sam’s misery because of her highly guarded life demonstrates this. Although the exploitation of child actors and young family vloggers have been revealed, positions like the First Children have remained relatively untouched by public concern. While there has occasionally been criticism of rude jokes at their expense, like when SNL compared Chelsea Clinton to a dog, the fact that First Children are practically working full-time due to their famous connections is ignored. First Daughter publicizes the consequences of public scrutiny on those who are young and famous, showing that individual goals, mental health, and close relationships are all seriously impacted as a result.
