In Girl You Know It’s True, now available on VOD services like Amazon Prime Video, established dancers and singing hopefuls Rob Pilatus (Tijan Njie) and Fabrice Morvan (Elan Ben Ali) take 1988 and ‘89 by storm with their first single under the control of German record producer Frank Farian (Matthias Schweighöfer). The whirlwind success of “Girl You Know It’s True” leads to worldwide fame nearly overnight, and a Grammy for Best New Artist. But they had never actually sung anything. And when the lip-sync scheme was revealed, Milli Vanilli’s dreams and their brief, gilded pop star status crashed and burned. Girl You Know It’s True, written and directed by German-Austrian filmmaker Simon Verhoeven, is dedicated to Pilatus, who died of a drug overdose in 1998.
GIRL YOU KNOW IT’S TRUE: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?
The Gist: “I know what you’re thinking now,” Rob Pilatus (Njie) says in a voiceover. “Milli Vanilli, didn’t they betray the whole world? Well, kind of…” And that’s kind of true, depending on how the duo’s story is told. But this is also only kind of a voiceover, because Girl You Know It’s True makes the curious decision to feature Njie and Elan Ben Ali as Fabrice Morvan speaking directly to the camera. They are in character. But they are also apart from the film’s narrative, observing it from a kind of ageless spiritual perch. And what they observe is a tale of two eager young men who met by chance, bonded immediately, and set out to seize the stardom they felt would legitimize who they always wished to be. Which worked. Until it didn’t.
We begin in Munich, West Germany in 1986, where Rob was the star of the Bionic Dance Crew – breaking, DJ scratching, tracksuits, the whole bit. When he meets Fabrice at a dance audition, it’s because they’re mistaken for one another; Fab had moved to Munich from Paris, because in West Germany, he’d be the only Black guy. (“I thought.”) We also learn a little about Rob’s local upbringing as the adopted son of a white couple, forever wondering about his true heritage. But once Rob and Fab get long braids to stand out, and begin to dress in bold matching fashion, they’re soon in demand as dancers on the club circuit, which is where they’re discovered by Ingrid (Bella Dayne), aka Milli, and her record producer partner Frank Farian (Matthias Schweighöfer), who’d found success in the late 1970s as the creator of and songwriter for the Black disco group Boney M.
“I’m not looking for dancers,” Frank tells impressionable hopefuls Rob and Fab as they sign a hefty contract without a lawyer present. “And I’m not looking for singers, either. I am looking for stars.” Farian lifts “Girl You Know It’s True” from the Baltimore group Numarx, and with slight tweaks releases a new demo version, performed not by Milli Vanilli but his regular group of studio musicians. It’s a hit, it’s a bigger hit, it’s an even bigger hit, and then Clive Davis and Arista Records come calling. Good looks, long braids, spandex unitards, leather biker jackets, hi-top Adidas sneakers, and rad dance moves: Rob and Fab were something the record companies could sell, and the duo became an overnight MTV sensation. The whole lip-syncing thing? Well, maybe they’d sing on the second album. While Fab is conflicted, Rob is all-in – especially with a free money lifestyle of booze, coke, and women – and they ride the wave for as long as they can. But in 1989, with the infamous, live malfunction reveal of the lip-sync lie – “Girl you know it’s girl you know it’s girl you know it’s…” – Rob and Fab become pariahs for decisions that were orchestrated by record business financial decisions much larger than two guys who just wanted to be big big stars.
What Movies Will It Remind You Of? The 2023 documentary Milli Vanilli is an in-depth look at the duo’s rise and fall – Fabrizio Morvan is interviewed extensively, and the doc develops a portrait of exploitation and tone of regret similar to Girl You Know It’s True.
Performance Worth Watching: Tijan Njie and Elan Ben Ali are both really good here as Rob and Fab. The actors embody the looks and the moves of the pop duo, but also put real strength behind the brotherly bond these guys shared. It was the two of them against every other force working in their lives.
Memorable Dialogue: In early ‘89, when Arista installs them in a Beverly Hills mansion, they gaze at the California sunset from the lip of their in-ground pool. “Is this real, brother?” Rob marvels. “No,” Fab answers. “It’s a beautiful illusion. A trap.” Fab stresses how they are imposters. And Rob knows this. But he’d prefer to think of them as showmen. For however long it lasts.
Sex and Skin: Nothing direct, but lots of suggestive rock star excess behavior.
Our Take: “Let’s not ever fuck this up between us,” Rob says to Fab in Girl You Know It’s True, as the wave of their success begins to build. “We are brothers, Rob, forever.” Their bond is central to the film, and rewarding for the viewer, because it keeps us invested even as the standard arc of a music biopic begins to overtake the proceedings. What isn’t standard at all in Girl is the periodic breaking of the fourth wall by Tijan Njie and Elan Ben Ali as the braided, dancing duo. And also Matthias Schweighöfer as Frank Farian, in a single scene that is equally strange but admittedly pretty funny, thanks to Schweighöfer’s delivery. Would fans have screamed the producer’s name and that of his band of schlubby German studio dudes if it was them singing Milli Vanilli songs on MTV? Would they have drooled over their hot moves? No, probably not.
As Rob and Fab narrate and observe Girl You Know It’s True from a kind of sumptuous forever place, where they are always together and remain fabulously braided in their brotherly bond, it takes us beyond the callous tactics of the record companies, the litigation that fractured Milli Vanilli’s relationship with Farian, and even the inevitability of their lip sync downfall. The camera-facing scenes don’t exactly flow with the film. But often, they’re the truest expression of the deep friendship Rob and Fab shared.
Our Call: Stream It. Girl You Know It’s True is structurally sound and satisfactory as a rise and fall-type music biopic. But the film finds a deeper note of sensitivity in its portrayal of Rob Pilatus and Fabrice Morvan. They got caught up in a sham of singing fakery. But their personal bond was always real.
Johnny Loftus (@glennganges) is an independent writer and editor living at large in Chicagoland. His work has appeared in The Village Voice, All Music Guide, Pitchfork Media, and Nicki Swift.