‘A beauty pageant in sports form’: How cheerleading show ‘America’s Sweethearts’ became a hit on Netflix | documentary

IIt’s been 30 years since the Dallas Cowboys – who have long billed themselves as America’s team – won the Super Bowl. But now, thanks to Greg Whitley’s Netflix documentary series America’s Sweethearts: Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders, the most reliable and world-famous arm of the Cowboys brand may no longer be the men who play football, but rather the women dancing on the sidelines.

“Football players will break your heart,” says one fan in the Season 3 finale. “But the fans will leave you with a smile.”

When its first season debuted in 2024, America’s Sweethearts was a huge hit, cracking the top 10 global shows on Netflix and turning what had long been a distinctly American obsession into a global one. Like the long-running CMT series Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders: Make the Team, which ended in 2022, it follows the annual process by which DCC director Kelly Finglass and her colleagues whittle down a large group of talented dancers to a final roster of 36 dancers. But unlike its predecessor, the Netflix series stays with fans throughout the football season, tracking the demands the role places on their bodies, relationships, finances, and sense of self.

The third series of America’s Sweethearts, which follows the 2025-26 football season and became one of Netflix’s most-watched shows after it debuted on June 16, is the first to confront the show’s impact on the institution it documents. “Since these people are becoming famous because of the movie we’re making, we just have to take that into account,” Whiteley says in the week of the season’s premiere. “It would be impossible to faithfully document Season 3 without acknowledging that they are even more popular than they were before our arrival.”

In DCC, the American girl’s dream comes true: beautiful, altruistic, and disciplined. “It’s like a beauty pageant, but in an athletic way,” says Klein Powell, one of the stars of the series. When she called me via Zoom from the Netflix office, her hair was falling in golden waves, not a single strand out of place, with a DCC sports jacket wrapped around her shoulders. She smiles between questions, and her absolute warmth permeates the rest of my day.

The series complicates the original image for fans by revealing the work that goes on behind it. The women live under high stress and very little sleep, often balancing their DCC careers with several other full-time jobs. Whitley, whose previous sports documentaries include Cheer, Last Chance U and Wrestlers, is frequently drawn to bodies being pushed to their limits. “Why should I care about this? I don’t know. I think it will take years of treatment to get rid of this problem,” he says.

The Whitley series presents a more refined and layered image of an institution that has long prided itself on its pure brilliance. “People want more now,” says Finglas, who coaches and mentors women while maintaining DCC’s enhanced brand image. When we talk, it’s exactly as it appears on screen; Naturally reliable and easily prepared. Wearing a carefully tailored blue jacket, she looks every bit as presidential as one of her fashion icons, Kamala Harris. (“I just love her power suits,” she said in Season 2.)

Finglas herself was DCC from 1984 to 1989, was notable as the first cheerleader to be invited back without re-auditioning, and became director in 1991. But since the show debuted, she says she has never witnessed such a dramatic turnaround in the organization’s history.

“The real estate Netflix has has is huge. People all over the world know our names and know our stories,” she says. “What we’re seeing now is more individual fame. People recognize fans at the grocery store, at the airport. They know their names. Privacy isn’t really a commodity that any of us have anymore.”

But the new vision also raised new concerns. In the final season, Finglas expressed concern about “who’s here for the right reason.”

DCC aspirants are now auditioning not only for one of the most prestigious organizations in sports, but also for a fame engine with a clear influencer pipeline. The show is now big enough to attract celebrities like Kacey Musgraves, who appears as a guest judge. Most DCCs currently have a large following, ranging from hundreds of thousands to millions, and regularly post themselves dancing to popular songs, as well as offering sneak peeks into their lives via Instagram and TikTok.

No one on the team illustrates the shift toward social media and individual fame more clearly than Powell. Goldie Hawn is on the team – bright, energetic and a little sassy – she’s one of the most malleable and combustible characters in DCC, and her instinct to test boundaries frustrates Finglass almost as much as she loves her. “Do you immerse yourself in your teammates, or do you pour yourself more into social media?” Finglas asks during a tense scene.

Powell maintains a regular online presence, posting YouTube videos of her skincare routine and daily vlogs every Thursday. “I think I was definitely the start of this big thing on social media,” she says. “I had a really big say in how it was used in the DCC space.” But Powell insists that her use of social media extends beyond self-promotion. “I wanted to take care of my teammates, and the only way I knew was to stick up for them and do what I thought was right.”

In 2025, just before the third season aired, Powell was one of five Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders who were instrumental in securing a historic 400% pay raise for the group. Before that, members were paid just $15 an hour, plus an appearance fee. Negotiating against a billion-dollar organization was understandably daunting. “If it weren’t for the millions of eyes on the Netflix documentary series, I don’t think we would have been motivated enough to attend those meetings.”

Social media helped her speak out, too. Despite receiving pushback from Finglas, Powell says she “had to explain herself more and continue to advocate for the girls, because at the end of the day it’s a financial opportunity, and I know what it’s like to not feel financially secure.”

Powell now plays an all-star role, and is contracted to fill in for other DCCs. She remains associated with the organization, but increasingly turns to life outside of it, which includes her art, her husband, and two kittens. Still, hanging up the uniform — and leaving the sheltered world of childhood behind — remains a difficult thing for anyone on the team to imagine.

“Wearing a uniform is really surreal every time you do it,” Powell says. “To think about putting it on hold permanently is kind of a big deal. It symbolizes the loss of this particular part, this era of your life, but I feel like I’ve put myself on the back burner my whole life. I’m excited to tap into my creativity and figure out who I am.”

Finglas also thinks about endings from time to time. After 35 years with the Cowboys, she will eventually retire and spend more time with her husband, kids and “crazy Shih Tzu.” “Even though it will be painful to leave, I have this part of my life that I never enjoyed.”

DCC requires a beautiful act of self-transcendence, in the service of something approaching religion: a group of high-kicking women smiling under the stadium lights, performing the American dream. Now, millions back home know more about the dedication and struggle behind those smiles.