Former squad members revealed they were often pushed into creating videos that included sexually suggestive behaviour, completely inappropriate for their age.
Image: Netflix
If you grew up in the days of playing in the street with your friends, building mud pies, chasing each other around barefoot, and sneaking a popsicle when no one was watching, consider yourself lucky.
"Bad Influence: The Dark Side of Kidfluencing", the new three-part documentary that recently dropped on Netflix, is a brutal reminder that many children today are trading their carefree childhoods for ring lights, scripted “fun”, and a parent armed with a spreadsheet and a camera.
I’ve been binging documentaries lately, and this one stopped me in my tracks. Coming fresh off watching "Devil in the Family: The Fall of Ruby Franke", I couldn’t help but notice how similar the themes are: manipulation, abuse of power, and a shocking lack of accountability.
The documentary hits differently, because it involves kids. Real kids. Children who should be in school, playing with their friends, figuring out who they are not acting out skits for millions of strangers online while their parents count the views and the cash.
At the heart of this unsettling doccie is teen YouTube star Piper Rockelle, a girl who began her journey at around eight years old on the once-popular lip-syncing app Musical.ly.
Her mother, Tiffany Smith, is painted as the mastermind behind Piper’s rise to stardom. The term “momager” feels far too light for the role Smith allegedly played.
Smith didn't just manage her daughter’s career but essentially became a one-woman media empire, roping in other children to join “the Squad”, a rotating group of child influencers that featured in Rockelle's YouTube videos.
What started out looking like innocent fun soon morphed into a twisted, exploitative machine. And at the centre of it all? Greed.
The series showcases how Smith built the Squad, a collection of kids including Sophie (Rockelle’s co-star from Mani), her cousins Claire and Reese, and friends like Sawyer, Gavin, Hayden, Emily and Symonne.
All of them were around 10 to 12 years old in 2018, just babies really, but working harder than most adults. One child’s parent recalls that they were made to film up to 10 to 15 videos a day for their individual YouTube channels.
What is this really about? Entertainment? Or exploitation? The documentary doesn’t shy away from these uncomfortable questions, and the more you watch, the more you realise just how wrong this whole thing was from the start.
Adding to the chaos was Hunter Hill, a 20-year-old man introduced as Rockelle’s “older brother,” but who was a stranger they met at a content conference.
He ended up not only directing and editing many of Rockelle’s videos but also reportedly dating her mother.
Let that sink in: a grown man playing big brother on screen while allegedly involved with the girl’s mother behind the scenes.
At the heart of the documentary is teen YouTube star Piper Rockelle, a girl who began her journey at around eight years old on a once-popular lip-syncing app.
Image: X/@wonderchannel_
The living conditions described by former Squad members and their parents are equally concerning, with several families crammed together, no clear rules, and an overwhelming number of cats.
Sounds more like a YouTube version of a cult compound than a safe environment for children.
It’s worth noting that some of the kids featured in the series are traumatised, with several unable or unwilling to reveal what happened behind closed doors.
But from the ones who do speak out, the picture is clear: they were manipulated, overworked, and in many cases, isolated from normal life. All the while, Smith lived comfortably off the proceeds and by controlling and abusing others.
What's clear is that these kids lost their childhoods. They didn’t get to make the silly memories most of us cherish. While we were learning how to ride bikes or trading sweets at break time, they were memorising lines and hitting record for the tenth time that day.
And for what? Fame they didn’t ask for and trauma they didn’t deserve.
The saddest part is, a lot of these parents probably started with good intentions wanting to showcase their child’s talents or create memories.
But when the money started rolling in, the lines blurred fast. What began as “fun content” turned into a full-blown business, and nothing even seemed real anymore - not the content and life itself.
Many recall that after a hard day of work, when it was time for bed, they were left feeling empty and depressed.
As Rockelle and the squad’s popularity skyrocketed, parents and their children say Smith became more demanding. “Eventually, it became you’re just being told what to do like you’re a puppet,” said Sawyer Sharbino, a former squad member.
Another former member, Corinne Joy, said Smith once asked her if she knew what a blow job was and laughed as she asked if she wanted to perform one on another cast member.
Others describe pranks that crossed serious lines, including being tricked into thinking they were in danger or being humiliated on camera, all for laughs and likes. The result? Panic attacks, emotional breakdowns, and long-term anxiety.
Behind the scenes, they say Smith and Hill frequently resorted to verbal abuse, shouting, intimidation, and in some cases, even physical aggression - if the kids didn’t “perform” the way they wanted.
The documentary forces us to confront what’s become normalised in the age of content creation: that children’s private lives are fair game if it racks up views. It’s a harsh but necessary spotlight on the ways social media, fame, and unchecked adult ambition can destroy innocence.
Rating: **** a standout film with exceptional qualities.