When David Beckham’s Netflix documentary was released in 2023, it was an instant hit. The series, broken into four parts, followed the chronological journey of David Beckham from child football prodigy, to Manchester United and England star, to rocky days at Real Madrid, to family man and national treasure.
Victoria Beckham’s Netflix documentary does not have the same oomph. Perhaps it’s due to its insistent focus on the former Spice Girl’s fashion career, making it feel less biographical and more like a branding exercise. Perhaps it’s due to its non-linear nature, constantly flip-flopping between time periods while barely digging into any of the emotion or depth of the time. Or perhaps it's due to the person in charge of asking the tough questions.
The 2023 Beckham documentary was directed by Fisher Stevens, who went on to receive an Emmy nomination for his work. This time around, Victoria Beckham is directed by Nadia Hallgren. Hallgren is best known for her work on Pop Star Academy: KATSEYE and Michelle Obama documentary, Becoming. It is worth noting that Becoming, while generally well received, was described as a “sleek and generally self-celebratory affair”, while the Guardian dubbed it a “carefully authorised” documentary. “Inevitably, it’s the things that don’t get asked that stick out,” Peter Bradshaw wrote in his Guardian review.
The same can be said for Victoria Beckham, the Netflix documentary, which follows her journey from pop star to respected fashion designer. I’m not putting all the blame on Hallgren: I’m sure this documentary was brand-managed within an inch of its life, and she is limited by the focus being so militantly trained on Victoria’s journey into the fashion world. But even then, a laughable amount of stones are left unturned.
We discover that Victoria Beckham had an eating disorder, but it’s never made clear what the eating disorder was, how she is handling it now, or how it affected her in any way. Near the end of the series, we find out Victoria had horrible spending habits during the early days of her company — including one moment where it’s revealed that she bought some kind of plant for £70,000 and hired someone for £15,000 to water said plant — but this topic is dropped quickly after being raised. It goes without saying that the ongoing Beckham family ‘feud’ is not addressed in any way at all. To the untrained eye, you would have no idea anything was going on. But eagle-eyed viewers will likely notice the screen time ratio of Romeo to Brooklyn is roughly ten to one.
That’s not to say it isn’t entertaining. Posh is funny, Posh has always been funny, and when she lets her guard down (usually when opposite David, the only person who appears able to unravel her media-trained persona) there are some genuinely entertaining moments. But it also misses out on so much humour and watchability due to its palpable reluctance to give us much of anything. Football fans aware of the behind-the-scenes happenings of the Baden Baden World Cup, for instance, will be actively blue-balled by Victoria’s mention of the trip… only to offer no new information or insider detail.
It pulls its punches constantly, in a way that doesn’t do Posh any favours. A good interviewer or director could have focused on the endless onslaught of sexism she faced, the eating disorder she experienced, the pressure for the Beckhams to be both a family and a brand. But instead, it barely skates over the surface of these topics, making for frustrating and distracting viewing experience. Victoria Beckham has the ability to be very watchable. She was the unlikely star of David’s documentary, but no one is the star of this.
The one truly candid, brilliant moment in the entire series actually comes as the credits roll. It’s courtesy of Harper Beckham, aged 14, who is filmed attending a Harper’s Bazaar awards in honour of her mother. “What’s Harper’s Bazaar?” she asks Victoria, as the credits intermittently cut through the clip. “A magazine,” Victoria responds. “Oh, I thought it was ‘cos of me,” Harper says. A baby Posh Spice in all her glory. It’s just a shame the rest of the documentary didn’t catch — or coerce — more moments like this.
Streaming now on Netflix
