MISS REPRESENTATION: RISE UP (Tribeca 2026) – Review by Valerie Kalfrin

Any woman knows being on social media can be a minefield if you’re considered too opinionated—but what if that’s by design? Such is one of the ideas covered in the documentary Miss Representation: Rise Up, which debuted at the 2026 Tribeca Film Festival.

Directed by Jennifer Siebel Newsom (Fair Play), the film is a spiritual sequel to her 2011 documentary Miss Representation, which explored how limited portrayals of women in media—i.e., lots of bikinis and sex appeal—impacted the number of women in positions of power. Frustratingly, Miss Representation: Rise Up indicates how little has changed, even if the method of delivery has.

Women hold more positions of power across government and industries than ever, the film notes, but sexist and misogynistic attitudes now pile on daily through online platforms such as X (formerly Twitter), Instagram, TikTok, Facebook, and Snapchat. With statistics from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention showing that 53% of girls report feeling sad and hopeless after spending the same amount of time online as boys, those interviewed here—including several teen girls—say that not only impacts their confidence but their desire to speak up in the first place.

It takes a bit for that connection to gel, though. Even at a brisk hour and 26 minutes, Miss Representation: Rise Up sweeps so much into this toxic stew, from tradwives and male influencers such as Andrew Tate and Nick Fuentes to President Trump’s crudeness and the Epstein files, that viewers at first might wonder where all this is headed.

Newsom, the wife of California Gov. Gavin Newsom, assembles an impressive group of interviewees, including longtime broadcast journalists Katie Couric and Gretchen Carlson, Common Sense Media CEO Jim Steyer, former Democratic presidential nominee Hillary Clinton, counter-disinformation expert Nina Jankowicz, Girls Who Code founder Reshma Saujani, and Frances Haugen, the Facebook whistleblower who triggered congressional hearings about the platform’s designed addictiveness. (Haugen has been a film festival regular this year, also appearing in the 2026 SXSW documentary Your Attention Please about social media, youth safety, and mental health.)

Yet the most powerful moments come from a clutch of high school girls and local politicians. Soraya Johnson, a California student who published the 2023 workbook for tweens and teens Girls Who Change the World, talks about being told to temper herself in debate class because she’s “too pushy,” a critique never lobbed at the boys. A friend who is Black criticizes app photo filters that make skin color lighter and change eye shape, an issue worthy of more depth on its own. Scenes with these girls had me feeling disheartened over all they’re dealing with and admiring their intelligence and fire.

Miss Representation: Rise Up is undoubtedly well-intentioned, but its scope is too ambitious for its own good. It touches on so many harmful effects of social media, including one family whose teen daughter committed suicide, that it feels like it hopscotches around before hitting its mark. What really brings the political thesis home are people like Sabrina Javellana, a former city commissioner in Hallandale Beach, Florida. Elected in 2018 at 21, Javellana was doxxed and threatened over her progressive positions, then found someone had turned an innocuous online selfie into deepfake nudes. “I’m going to be known as the girl with the nude images instead of what I’ve worked for,” she says. She spoke in support of a bipartisan bill the Florida Legislature passed to combat deepfake images, but she didn’t seek reelection.

Miss Representation: Rise Up attempts to end on a positive call to action with upbeat music and clips urging women and girls to support one another. (The teens in the credits offer practical advice, such as taking social media breaks.) That’s always a laudable message, but one wishes the film had offered more besides showing how women everywhere deal with the same garbage. That’s deliberate, the film argues, because the patriarchy sees women’s power as a threat, and further regulation of these platforms might help. But as one woman says, “You cannot feel unsafe and powerful at the same time.”