As Onfrey remained in for over six months without a data plan, a 2015 song called Look at Me that he posted to SoundCloud went popular accompanied by a picture of his tatted face, Cruella-styled black-and-blonde hair, and piercing look. The internet was attracted by his raps and rap sheet. His breakthrough success was inextricably linked with the horrifying domestic abuse, which didn't seem to bother Onfrey. His celebratory squeal, which the film juxtaposes with the haunting and twisted sounds of Look at Me, causes stomach knots." Every day was an ethical quandary," says Sabaah Foloyan, director of Look at Me. She's speaking about her experience dealing with the legacy left behind by the Billboard-topping performer, who was assassinated at the age of 20 during a gunpoint robbery in 2018. Foloyan claims she agreed to agreements with the film's producers, who include Onfrey's mother, Cleo Bernard, and his manager, Solomon Sobande, before getting involved. She stated that the documentary about the Florida musician would have to confront "the good, the bad, and the ugly," including assault and battery allegations that Onfrey publicly denied while he was still alive.
"Women don't have any incentive to lie about abuse allegations," adds Foloyan, taking a position diametrically opposite to all the venomous XXXTentacion stans who ridiculed and tortured Ayala on social media, refusing to admit what she went through at the hands of Onfrey. Foloyan said she half-expected Bernard and Sobande to flee her post. Instead, they embraced her perspective on Onfrey's story, which is more than just a celebrity misbehaving.Onfrey was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. He expressed his feelings about it honestly in his songs. Fans were drawn to his vulnerability in hit songs like Sad, which explores abusive and suicidal ideas. His social media stream is also a live chronicle of his unpredictable and aggressive behavior, desperate pleas for empathy, and earnest wishes for recovery as he moved through numerous recording studios and incarceration centers. His is a narrative of mental illness, a predatory music industry that promotes bad behavior, and a criminal justice system that prevents recovery. Foloyan is the perfect person to tell that story. She has worked as a mental health advocate at the Urban Justice Center and the Osborne Association, which helps individuals and families affected by the justice system. She understands how the criminal justice system exacerbates the country's mental health issue - too many resources are devoted to jail rather than treatment and recovery. Look at Me is also an intriguing follow-up to Foloyan's previous film, Whose Streets? which was about the protests in Ferguson when police officer Darren Wilson shot and killed Michael Brown. Whose Streets? focused on the community's ability to mobilize and demand justice for a Black youngster thanks to social media. Look at Me is a film about how social media unleashed a monster on a Black youngster who didn't have access to the help he required.
In the early scenes of Look at Me, we see Onfrey being overly social on social media. He would live-stream his heinous assaults because he knew it would draw attention to both him and his Soundcloud account. He had his pals set up many internet personas to promote his music and manipulate algorithms in his favor. As previously said, his arrest following his battered departure from Ayala earned him millions of admirers, new management, and a record deal. This is now the story of hip-hop as well. The style was chosen to show, uplift, and empower people, but it does have a natural inclination to glorify misogyny and violence. "These young people are reacting to what sells," explains Foloyan, adding that young talents like Onfrey are unable to quantify the impact of their contributions on society. "They're reacting to what's incentivized on the most fundamental level." I believe the issue is one of who the adults are in the room. … Who truly benefits from the way this culture is formed? I believe that those with structural and trendsetting authority must bear a great deal of responsibility."
I questioned Foloyan about how much culpability Onfrey's manager, Sobande, who entered the scene when the adolescent was completing a six-month sentence, bears, and if there's anything predatory about the documentary he's creating, which might be accused of finding yet another way to profit from terrible behavior. "From Solomon's viewpoint, he was an advocate for a young kid who was very, really damaged and incredibly bright," Foloyan says, adding that she isn't ready to apportion blame. "However, I believe that this person's boss and representative are part of the greater machine." Solomon arrived at this scenario with little clout. He was acting for survival and personal gain. That's not the same as someone sitting on top, greenlighting and sponsoring specific activities."Foloyan's attitude to placing the blame is consistent with the general mindset she brings to this discussion. She regards blaming as neither useful nor constructive. She feels the same way about internet condemnations of Onfrey, which she compares to posturing rather than issue solution." When anything awful happens, we have an unevolved revenge-based carceral reaction," explains Foloyan. "We rush to a corner, raise our flag, and declare, 'I'm on this side.'" This is my opinion. Look how accurate I am.' However, in this case, Geneva is left hanging. Even with all of the effort made to cancel him, she was defenseless and unsupported. The energy expended in eliminating him ended up magnifying him even more.