Why 'Quiet on Set' documentary on Nickelodeon scandal exposes the high price of kids TV

There are some things worth sacrificing for art and entertainment. The well-being of children is definitely not one of them.

But increasingly, we are discovering that in the high-stress, high-profit and highly unregulated world of TV and filmmaking, children aren't well.

In the new Investigation Discovery documentary series "Quiet on Set: The Dark Side of Kids' TV" (streaming on Discovery+ and Max), former child actors allege a variety of abuses and toxic behavior on the sets of classic Nickelodeon children's TV shows, from "All That" and "The Amanda Show" to "Drake & Josh" and "Victorious." From claims of racism and bullying workplaces to truly horrifying accounts of alleged sexual assault, the documentary suggests there was darkness behind all of Nick's bright green slime.

The series has caused a social media uproar and heated responses from celebrities and former child stars. It follows the 2020 HBO documentary "Showbiz Kids," which, while lacking the more serious allegations, chronicled the harsh downsides of child stardom. The more child stars grow up, the more we learn the cost of making TV and movies featuring kids. And the price is far too high: so high that it makes me question the worth of live-action kids' TV as a genre.

"Quiet on Set" focuses on TV shows made for kids featuring kids, in the heyday of Nickelodeon in the 1990s and early 2000s. Many are from producer Dan Schneider, who would eventually be ousted by the network in 2018 after allegations of inappropriate behavior surfaced. (Schneider denies many of the allegations in the documentary in statements to the filmmakers and USA TODAY.)

Drake Bell, who rose to fame on "The Amanda Show" and "Drake & Josh," reveals he was the victim in a criminal case, for which Nickelodeon dialogue coach Brian Peck pleaded no contest to lewd acts with a child. Actors Bryan Hearne and Giovonnie Samuels alleged experiencing racism both subtle and glaring. Two former female "Amanda Show" writers accused Schneider of sexism and sexual harassment. The filmmakers and talking heads accuse Schneider of sexualizing the children's shows, repeatedly showing clips that include sexual innuendo or appear to mimic sexual acts, featuring future stars like Ariana Grande and Jamie Lynn Spears.

The documentary is well done, and as someone who grew up during this era, I can attest to the cultural dominance of Nickelodeon. It roils my stomach to think about the hours of enjoyment in front of my boxy old TV that came at the expense of the health and happiness of the kids that I so desperately wanted to emulate. Many of the actors who spoke in the series describe how their treatment and experiences led to mental health and substance abuse problems later in life. They felt alone and unprotected. It took more than two decades for people to start listening.

"All That" was a great show. So was "Amanda" and "Drake & Josh." Green slime aside, Nickelodeon content allowed kids to be messy, complex humans. The humor wasn't prim and proper. You felt like you were part of a special club when you tuned in. So it's hard to suggest that these shows shouldn't have existed at all. But the current safeguards for child safety and well-being in the studio environment are clearly insufficient. There's too much money to be made. There are long hours, and lots of adults running around with access to vulnerable children. Sure, there are good people involved in making kids' TV, but the productions also attract bad actors.

This isn't unique to children's programming, considering young performers show up in stories aimed at all ages. But certainly the highest concentration of minors is in the youth market. Kids want to see their lives mirrored onscreen the same way adults do.

At the end of "Quiet," many of the actors urge more regulation, tougher laws and other safeguards to keep future young actors safe. Bell struggles with whether kids should be allowed to act, clinging to the special experiences and good memories he has from his childhood, even as he relives his trauma. Many of the participants, however, say they would never let their own children near a Hollywood set. I can't help but empathize.

What does 'Quiet on Set' allege? These former child stars have spoken up

Will the documentary change anything? It's hard to be optimistic. For one, children's TV, even past its peak, is a big business, and we are hard-pressed to interrupt corporate profits for anything in this country, even for kids. And as a society we keep inventing new ways to exploit minors for the profits of adults. Even as "Quiet" has encouraged a conversation about child actors, who at least have some legal protection, there is a wild west of child influencers on TikTok and Instagram. On social media, the "set" is the children's own homes and the "producers" are their parents, who are under no legal obligation to share the profits with their famous kids, or to protect their privacy or mental health. (According to The New York Times, it's not even kids tuning in to those Instagram reels).

Talented youths have been trotted around for entertainment of the masses for centuries, from Mozart to Vaudeville. Kids on stage gives way to kids in Hollywood gives way to kids on social media, which will ultimately give way to whatever comes next. Maybe one day we'll prioritize safety first.

This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: 'Quiet on Set' documentary proves price of kids TV is far too high