HBO Max’s Miss Cleo Doc Highlights the Exploitation of Black Women in Media

Who was the real Miss Cleo? This question has loomed since the TV personality and actress, who was the face and voice in the early years of Psychic Readers Network, died in 2016. The new HBO Max documentary Call Me Miss Cleo seeks to demystify the famed fortune teller — and what legacy she left behind. 

Co-directed by Jennifer Brea and Celia Aniskovich, Call Me Miss Cleo quickly establishes how many misconceptions there are about the late performer (real name Youree Dell Harris), who began her career with a production company in Seattle and went on to become the infomercial queen. But if you ask someone who grew up in the ’90s, they will tell you that Miss Cleo was the best form of late-night television. From her “tell it like it is” personality to her straight-shooting, no-nonsense responses to caller questions, Miss Cleo radiated the energy of the friend you go to for advice because you know she’ll give you the truth. She also touted herself as a trained voodoo priestess who could not only tell you the future, but could also communicate with those on the other side. 

By incorporating the voices of several individuals, including actors like Raven Symone and Debra Wilson, the documentary reveals the true impact that Miss Cleo had on pop culture. “It felt like we were watching a Maury episode whenever she was on TV,” says Symone when speaking about what drew viewers to said infomercials. Wilson, who seems to have a deeper connection to Miss Cleo considering much of the commentary she provides in the film, describes her as not only a dynamic force, but possessing an “energy that was both entertaining and fun to watch.” They both have a point: Miss Cleo made you believe that she had all the answers, even though you had to call a 900 number to get them. 

This captivating documentary allows us insight into the world of the woman behind the crystal ball. Beyond the directors showing us some of the struggles Harris had with her fame, the film highlights something even more important: what it was like to be a Black woman in the ’90s navigating capitalism. Call Me Miss Cleo goes on to share bombshell revelations on how the top executives at the Psychic Readers Network made their money, and how they threw Harris under the bus to do so.  

In naming both Steven Feder and Peter Stolz, who founded the Psychic Readers Network, as the true villains in Harris’ story, Call Me Miss Cleo shines a bright light on the disparity that Black women have long faced on the business side of entertainment. Through talking head interviews with former Psychic Readers Network employees, we quickly learn the revolting ways in which money was made at PRN and how Harris took the fall for a gig-worker scam that had the potential to ruin her legacy. 

The most disheartening thing in all of this is how the documentary details the ways in which Harris and her brand became collateral damage in the company’s get-rich-quick scheme. In one of the most shocking moments of the film, we not only learn about forgery and the ways that both Feder and Stolz tried to silence Harris and the ex-employees, but their lack of accountability — at a time when Harris was hit with numerous lawsuits. 

Throughout the film, several folks offer commentary on why Harris was so popular, even with all the negative press around her and the psychic network. “At that time, there weren’t that many successful Black, Jamaican women on TV,” says writer Andrea Nevins, who notes that it was Harris’ accent that made so many people believe her. “She tapped into the things people wanted to believe — her persona offered love and comfort that so many people at that time were seeking.” 

Symone also alludes to this, noting that Miss Cleo is a great example of the ways in which Black bodies, specifically Black women, are used and discarded within the media industry. “America,” she quickly fires off, by way of explanation. But Dave Aronberg, a lawyer who offers commentary in the film, makes a great point — regardless of how you might feel about someone's situation, people always have to read the fine print. 

But what makes this documentary so endearing is learning that Miss Cleo wasn’t just an act that Harris put on for the camera. Throughout the film, many people talk candidly about Harris’ spirituality and how she made people feel in real life. Harris was not only caring, but many of those close to her believed that she could really talk to others on the other side. It’s powerful hearing how much she cared for people, even putting her career on the line to protect those she loved. 

“She was a human who suffered a lot in life,” notes her best friend Annadee Rucker. And as the film ends, we learn that part of Harris’ truth was using the power of “Miss Cleo” to help those who were truly in need, through advocacy and activism. Harris’ godson Matt Rucker says she not only helped him find his truth as a queer man after going public about her queer identity in 2006, but continued to be a huge pillar of support for the LGBTQ+ community in Florida. One of Harris’ former partners, Lou Ann Labohn, says she was a “deeply feeling person who carried the gift and the burden of Miss Cleo.” 

If we can learn anything from watching this film, it’s to remember that Harris was an actress who managed to entertain the world with her talents. But her story also shows us the dark side of entertainment and what can happen when you don’t read your own cards correctly. While some might watch this documentary and still believe that Miss Cleo was sham, the one thing that can’t be denied is that Harris had a gift, even if it cost you $4.99 a minute to access it. 

Call Me Miss Cleo is now streaming on HBO Max. Join the discussion on the documentary in our forums. 

Jonathan P. Higgins is a freelance writer who has been published at sites including Essence, Ebony, and Out Magazine, in addition to winning season 5 of Nailed It. You can follow them online by using the handle @DoctorJonPaul.