Am I My Naked Brothers' Keeper?

So does art imitate life? Life imitate art? Or do they just nudge each other when there's cash to be made? Such are the questions one must ponder when considering The Naked Brothers Band, Nickelodeon's would-be media juggernaut.

Fronted by (fully clothed) brothers Nat and Alex Wolff, The Naked Brothers Band released its first CD in October. The self-titled effort debuted at No. 23 on Billboard's album chart. (Hey, it's a Top-40 release!) And its performance seems to suggest that The Naked Brothers Band is—while not a No. 1 with a bullet band—a real band. That's certainly what 12-year-old Nat would like you to think, anyway.

"We always thought we were rock stars," he told the Associated Press. "Everybody else thought we were pretending."

But, in a sense, they are pretending. The band most folks know is a largely fictional construct for Nickelodeon's cable series The Naked Brothers Band, in which Nat and 9-year-old Alex play—guess what—rock stars. Most bandmates on the show are actors, not musicians. And they're certainly not shepherded by an 11-year-old manager named Cooper.

(Kids' shows shouldn't make your head hurt this much.)

Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction
Nat and Alex, offspring of actress Polly Draper (Thirtysomething) and musician Michael Wolff, reportedly came up with the name themselves as toddlers during a particularly creative spin in the bathtub. Nat later fronted his own band in preschool and now writes his own music. The tween wunderkind wrote most of the songs for the show and, by extension, the CD: They reflect a distinctly 12-year-old attitude revolving around girls, family angst and banana smoothies. Little brother Alex added two songs of his own to the CD—including one that dreams of his big brother being snatched by Chucky of Child's Play fame and forced to eat spiders and snakes. Little brothers the world over can surely commiserate.

Nat's hook-laden ditties are probably augmented by Dad's slick, behind-the-scenes knack for production: We're unlikely to hear The Naked Brothers Band Unplugged anytime soon, despite the fact that Mr. Wolff insists to The New York Times that Nat is "his own man when it comes to music. It's art, so we don't interfere."

The New Nick Hybrid—Coming to a Dealer Near You
While Draper says The Naked Brothers Band was an organic offshoot of a tongue-in-cheek mocumentary she filmed during the kids' summer vacation a couple of years ago, it's become Nickelodeon's best hope to beat archrival Disney Channel at its own game—and, as such, bears a distinct odor of contrivance. For years, Disney has been creating its own crossover successes, from Hilary Duff to Miley Cyrus to the kids in the High School Musical made-for-TV movies. What better way to take on these titans than to manufacture your own crossover franchise, beginning with Season 1, Episode 1? Nickelodeon is following Disney's recipe closely, too, with charismatic young leads, poppy tunes, light-but-clever writing and scads of merchandising.

What neither the show nor, to a lesser extent, the CD, have done is import Disney's squeaky-clean sensibilities. The boys slam each other with crass put-downs and wallow in mildly crude humor. Alex has a huge crush on his babysitter, who wears outfits more in line with go-go dancing than kid-watching. Nat, in an effort to impress a crush by pretending to be a "bad boy," slaps the girl on her rear.

There are far more problematic shows out there, of course, but keep in mind that The Naked Brothers Band is designed for kids as young as 6. Plugged In earlier described the show's characters as "11 going on 21," and that still seems about right. The CD is less problematic, but songs tend to obsess over tween infatuation and light-core angst rather than offer any definably positive messages—a far cry from Disney's cadre of stars who, for whatever their problems offscreen, participate in unfailingly upbeat and well-mannered entertainment on it.

Draper has said that Nickelodeon was a perfect home for The Naked Brothers Band because it is willing to be "authentic" and "real." The show, she believes, is art imitating life—assuming real life involves being pint-sized rock stars.

But it's always better when art tries to draw "real life" to a higher plane—when it gives fans not only a picture of who they are, but of who they could be. The Naked Brothers Band asks its fans to imagine being rock stars, but it rarely asks them to be better people. And that, in the end, makes it a pale imitation of both a great life and good art.