Written by Jennifer
March 02, 2009
"It's not gonna be me in that red dress no more."
I have always thought of myself as having a pretty standard amount of Annie in my life. I've got a couple of movie coloring books, the junior novelization of the movie, a VHS copy of the movie itself, a habit of referencing "The Hard-Knock Life" at all random times, and some emotional trauma over the Annie doll I didn't get when I was five (even though I was offered one and they were marked down to, like, three dollars). I figured that was normal for a child of the 80s, but after watching Life After Tomorrow, I don't think any of us had a normal amount of Annie in our lives—least of all the little girls who participated in the various incarnations of the musical.
Life After Tomorrow catches up with many of the women who tasted fame and fortune as children in Annie. Whether they were on Broadway, in the film, or in a touring company, these girls were met with adulation every time they donned a red wig or put on their orphan clothes. The professional pressures were enormous, greater than many of us have known as adults, but to realize the dream of being in Annie more than compensated for any stress or trauma. The experience may be twenty or more years behind them, and still, it's hard to top.
Though Andrea McArdle and Aileen Quinn are conspicuously absent, we are treated to interviews with a number of former Annies, including Sarah Jessica Parker. I had the weirdest feeling of deja vu listening to these women, and I kept wondering why they all looked so familiar. I was sure I knew them from other things, but the more I watched, the more I realized I did know them from Annie. Media coverage really was that heavy in the late 70s and 80s, and surely any little girl with a TV set would have paused to check it out. Saturation is one word that comes to mind, or perhaps "all Annie all the time." Why else would I recognize the poor girl who lost her role as Annie because she was sick in the hospital and the show had to go on? The circa 1989 footage shows her crying uncontrollably and saying something like, "it's not gonna be me in that red dress no more." I remembered her immediately, because even in 1989 I realized that losing the part of Annie was enough to make you lose your grip on grammar. On some level it seemed to be every little girl's dream.
One of the Annies seemed particularly familiar to me, and somewhere near the end of the documentary I discovered that she'd been Pepper in the film. Pepper! I loved that girl, and it was great to see her all grown up. It was also interesting to learn that younger orphans in the cast were often promoted to the role of Annie when they got older. Conversely, Annies who got too old were sometimes demoted to orphans. It was a cutthroat casting process and stage parents sometimes behaved appallingly. Making matters worse, many marriages ended in divorce while one parent was on the road with a child and the other continued life at home. Even so, some of the women are still trying to recapture the perfect happiness of their Annie days well into their thirties and forties. Who can blame them? Just reliving the Annie fandom of my childhood made me want to turn back time.
By the end of the documentary, I was absolutely engrossed. I think I watched most of it with my mouth hanging open, but there were plenty of laughs, tears, and random bursts of "I remember that!" to keep things lively. When the women launched into "The Hard-Knock Life" as the credits rolled, I simply couldn't bear to turn the DVD off. Luckily there are scads of extra features which allow you to continue the documentary for roughly another hour. After that, you're forced to nurse your renewed obsession with Annie on your own.
