Discovering the Enigma: Journeying through Susan Powter's Life

Once Susan Powter’s unmistakably stark platinum hair and overjoyed energy filled our screens. During her prime, she reigned as the queen of infomercials, penned a bestselling novel, and was a constant presence on talk shows. And she was hardly forgettable; her audacious personality was a ripe target for parodies, despite her almost parody-proof demeanor. Her mantra? Live healthily and stay physically fit. But then, like the last scene of a movie, she disappeared, leaving the spotlight without a trace of scandal or controversy. It was as if she’d walked out of a party she was the life of without saying goodbye.

While many of her contemporaries have been dredged up for documentary dissection, Susan Powter’s story remained shrouded in mystery. Enter Zeberiah Newman’s ‘Stop the Insanity:' a documentary that serves as an intriguing puzzle rather than a direct narrative. It hints at the story of Susan Powter, leaving audiences wondering just who was this self-care guru, and where did she go?

Starting, quite literally, from the ground up, we begin to see old pictures of Susan Powter's life. We meet her in the present day where, ditching the usual Las Vegas stereotypes, we find her delivering for UberEats. Her hair is longer and she's aged naturally, but when she starts speaking, it’s the same person. Yet, even her living condition seems humbling: an old hotel on the edge of The Strip notorious for crime. Though her life appears precarious, there's no pity invited; her struggles are treated matter-of-factly.

In the documentary's present, Powter is seen in her grungy but respectable apartment, barely scraping by but showing no signs of giving up. Like millions of Americans, she is only one hefty bill away from disaster. Yet, unlike most, she has the uncanny ability to reflect on her life and put it into words, on the off chance it resuscitates her career.

‘Stop the Insanity’ doesn't spell everything out. Newman is more invested in portraying moments of Powter’s life rather than answering all our questions. The documentary is raw, sprouting from the real-life experiences of Powter, from the panic-stricken breakdown of her Prius, to her see-sawing emotions during a magazine interview.

The heart of the documentary lies in its fly-on-the-wall scenes, like Powter sorting through her old belongings at a storage facility in New Mexico. These tidbits make her an unlikely modern-day Everywoman, representing the struggles of everyday Las Vegas denizens amid an elusive promise of glamor. The documentary truly shines when it refrains from featuring disconnected talking heads and sticks to Powter's first-hand account of her life.

The film doesn't offer a typical Hollywood ending, it doesn’t define Powter’s current state, or predict her fate once the credits roll. But, it doesn't exploit or sensationalize her past celebrity status either. It simply offers a glimpse into Susan Powter's life, unfolding as it is. To someone unfamiliar with Powter's story, it's far more engaging than the film you might think you would prefer.