The TikTok Star Who Became a Global Movie Icon

Addison Rae was dancing in front of a bedroom mirror a few years ago, her phone resting on what appeared to be a pile of books. The lighting wasn’t ideal. Additionally, the choreography wasn’t particularly innovative. But something about the rhythm of those videos—her timing, the casual confidence, the slightly messy realism—caught people’s attention. Millions of people were watching within months.

Fame on TikTok can be like the weather. A different creator takes center stage one day while it’s sunny the next. Even though Addison Rae’s rise was happening at internet speed, it appeared strangely steady, almost deliberate. By the end of 2019, she had amassed over tens of millions of followers, making her one of the most recognizable faces on the platform, and brands were quietly circling around.

Perhaps her dancing wasn’t the only thing that set her apart. Many artists dance. Rae, however, seemed more at ease in front of the camera than on social media. She seemed to have an innate understanding of how viewers act on the internet, including how quickly they scroll and how quickly they become disinterested. The videos remained brief, lighthearted, and a little disorganized. Human.

On her way to a shoot, Rae occasionally passes production trucks that are parked next to palm-lined streets outside Los Angeles studios. It still seems a little strange to go from being a smartphone performer to a professional actor. He’s All That, a gender-swapped adaptation of the 1999 teen film She’s All That on Netflix, was her first significant movie role. Opponents were dubious. Some were openly dismissive. However, the audience’s response revealed a somewhat different narrative.

Teen viewers approached the movie with curiosity rather than condemnation because many of them were already following Rae’s everyday activities online. The film swiftly rose to the top of the Netflix charts, posing an intriguing query for Hollywood: what happens when the star already controls the audience before the movie even starts?

That concept seems to captivate investors in entertainment companies. Through auditions, supporting parts, and steady exposure, a traditional actor works for years to gain recognition. Tens of millions of people are already watching TikTok when its creators arrive. Studios seem eager to test the theory, though it’s still unclear if that attention translates into long-term acting careers. And Rae isn’t alone in this strange crossover moment.

Short videos have been transformed into massive personal brands by creators like Charli D’Amelio, Bella Poarch, and Khaby Lame, who have earned millions of dollars from sponsorships, music releases, and fashion collaborations. It’s easy to see the subtle change when you walk through some Hollywood events these days. Influencers and traditional actors stand next to each other, observing one another with a mixture of interest and calculation.

The trajectory of Khaby Lame may be the most peculiar of all. During the pandemic, a former Italian factory worker started sharing silent reaction videos that ridiculed excessively intricate “life hacks.” No conversation. Just small hand shrugs and facial expressions. Charlie Chaplin and other silent film comedians are reminiscent of the simplicity. Oddly timeless.

Because of his universal appeal, he has amassed over 160 million followers, making him the most popular TikTok user worldwide. There’s a subtle irony in the way he poses for photographers and shows up on international red carpets these days. A man who hardly speaks in his videos has gained international recognition.

The path taken by Addison Rae seems a little different. Maybe less coincidental. In addition to acting, she recorded music, started a beauty line, and starred in high-end fashion campaigns. Her image can be seen more frequently when browsing fashion feeds or strolling through Los Angeles boutiques. It alludes to something more than a fleeting viral phenomenon. The economics of it are another factor.

A complex web of brand agreements, livestream gifts, sponsorships, and creator funds allows TikTok creators to make money. They are not so much individual performers as they are small media companies. Delivered informally while drinking coffee or testing makeup, a single sponsored video can bring in more money than some TV appearances.

It’s difficult to ignore the conflict between conventional Hollywood career paths and this new internet-driven fame as this change takes place. Screen tests and casting directors are still used by studios. Before the cameras even start rolling, a creator with 80 million followers can bring in a ready-made audience.

In private, some executives wonder if the popularity of TikTok translates into long-term film careers. Attention that goes viral can pass quickly. The audience moves swiftly. Others, however, think that these creators are a new type of celebrity that combines elements of a performer, a brand, and an algorithmic phenomenon.

Recently, a group of teenage fans stood outside a West Hollywood premiere with their phones ready, waiting close to the barricades. They weren’t talking about directors or cinematography. They were arguing about the latest trends on TikTok and who might be the next creator. That moment provides insight into potential future directions for entertainment.

The distinction between a movie star and an internet celebrity has become increasingly hazy. It’s possible that Addison Rae’s journey from brief dance videos to streaming-service movies won’t be the last of its kind. It feels, if anything, like the start of an entirely different era.

As this plays out, there’s a subtle feeling that Hollywood no longer has complete control over celebrity. It appears that the algorithm has joined the casting department.