the spectre of

2005-05-28T15:57:00.000-07:00

“She Doesn’t Act. She Jiggles:”
Celebrity Culture In America

Tabloids are the supposedly genteel citizen’s guiltiest pleasure. Weekly they reveal celebrities’ inner “secrets:” affairs, children born, upcoming movies or other projects, conflicts, friendships, and (with disturbing regularity and alacrity) marriages and divorces. The Big Three magazines (Star, Us Weekly, and People) offer us the gritty, gossipy details of the elite’s lives-- finally, someone to gossip about, to spread rumors about, to revile, to adore-- all without guilt. We idolize and hate these celebrities, even when it is doubtful that there are real people behind the media face, the brand, at all. Of course, these details of the lives of the rich and famous are gobbled up by consumers in a fashion comparable to the Donner Party at their first post-starvation meal. Celebrity culture is a component to American consumer culture, a much larger and more terrifying beast.
The tabloids have not been around forever, nor have the accompanying photographers (better known as paparazzi), writers, journalists, websites, books, television and news shows, official statements, albums, movies and (most of all) the eager consumer. In fact, the culture of celebrity did not occur until the arrival of radio broadcasts, and did not balloon until the advent of the commercial, feature-length silent film in 1912. Without dialogue to express emotion, actors often more readily resembled mimes, and some directors placed an explanatory paragraph at the beginning of each scene. The profession of a movie star had been born, and along with increasingly sophisticated methods of communication, other forms of stardom were rising too.
Movie stars are, as you can see, the most obvious and most commonly publicized form of celebrity. Some movie stars are, indubitably, magnificent actors as well; others, however, are famous because of insane marketing budgets, publicity stunts, or physical attributes. The latter is represented with the most faculty by modern star Pamela Anderson who (apparently a very sweet and intelligent person) has seduced American media with her gigantic silicone breasts. As one very sage viewer commented: “She doesn’t act. She jiggles.”
One of the first movie stars was Clara Bow, a vivacious, devious, and coy party girl in the early 1920s. Her strong Brooklyn accent was masked by the silent films which she headlined, her pouty mouth and expressive, dark eyes doing the work for her as she toyed with the hearts of the public and the hearts of her comrades-- both male and female.
Cary Grant may have been the heartthrob of the newest generation’s grandmothers, but that doesn’t mean that his tall, dark and mysterious presence is not the mold upon which many handsome young actors are fashioned. He began the “strong and silent” stereotype and achieved fame in the United States in the 1930s, continuing his career well into the 1950s (Grant, pg. 2-4). While he was born with the slightly less elegant name of Alexander Archibald Leach, he was the epitome of elegant in the cinema. (Grant, pg. 1)
Julia Roberts is the current example of “perma-fame”, the level reached when a star has already participated in many quality productions and continues to do so, without the usual clutter of “compromising photos” and mediocre films tarnishing an otherwise beautific resume. Her octopus lips, ever-changing hair color, and good-on-the-inside characters continue to make her a favorite of crowds.
Musicians also become famous in rarefied cases. Kenny Chesney, a country singer, became more famous when he married movie star Reneé Zellweger this past month. Bob Dylan was renowned for his wordplay and political vision, even as adult journalists doubted the comprehension of the teenagers and young adults who listened to his music. But the most devastating case of musical fame is Michael Jackson.
One fifth of the early pop group the Jackson Five, Michael was the sweet-voiced child, taking his solos and turning them into arguments for child-stardom. The Jackson Five were five of the Jackson family brothers, and they continued to sing, write, and produce until they eventually dissolved. In his late teens Michael Jackson went solo, to critical acclaim and charting success. Of course, his professional life continued to be enriched as his psyche crumbled: once black, he bleached his skin to a deathly white and underwent a legendary number of rhinoplasties (plastic surgeries on his nose) until it was little more than a ruin. While Jackson’s appearance was enough to merit a cacophony of bar jokes, recent sex scandals have worsened these effects.
On occasion athletes have also become well-known, posing for photos and granting autographs, their faces imprinted on the pages of magazines. Babe Ruth was the first sports celebrity, his baseball talent making him a legend in his own time. During his career with first the Baltimore Orioles, then the Boston Red Sox, and most famously the New York Yankees, steroids were obsolete. Would Ruth have become such an icon in more contemporary times? The answer is no. He lacks the very necessary physical attractiveness to become a modern star. (Ruth, pg. 1-3) This outward beauty is what has made Anna Kournikova the celebrity she is, toned shoulders and legs decorating the rooms of teenage boys, blonde hair glistening. (Kournikova, pg. 1) At one time a tennis champion, Miss Kournikova is now more known for her figure and her romantic relationship with a latin singer, who himself is more known for his parentage and his relationship with her than any musical talent he may or may not possess.
Royals, politicians, and business tycoons may also become celebrities. The latter two categories imply some vague intelligence; the former does not. Princess Diana, her hair impressively and carefully pulled into blonde perfection, a winning smile on her face, is the quintessential royal. (Princess, pg. 1-2) Of course, she is much less bewitching when you are aware that directly preceding the photo opportunity, she was in her limosine, vomiting from anxiety. The dubious circumstances of her marriage (her husband, Prince Charles, carried on with a noble, who he has recently married), her clever manipulation of the media, her appearance, her humanitarian work, and, of course, her tragic death are all the stuff of a tabloid editor’s dreams.
John F. Kennedy was the first president to be more than a mere politican. His wife, fondly known as Jackie O., was the perfect trophy wife, intelligent and beautiful as Kennedy himself. Together, they became the aspiration of newly wed american couples, the epitome of the successful marriage, the model of beautiful people. (Kennedy, pg. 1-4)
Howard Hughes was famous more for his talent for coaxing young starlets into his bed than his actual business prowess and engineering brilliance: a fact quite telling, as his business and engineering skills were of imperial quality. (Hughes, pg. 2-3) More recently the release of the film The Aviator (directed by Martin Scorsese) lets the focus shift to his crippling mental illness. Of course, his golden age was in the 1920s, and celebrity was not a priority. This throws him into sharp relief when compared to the latest famous business mogul, Donald Trump, with his salmon-hued combover, catchphrase (“You’re fired!”), reality television show, billions of dollars, and seeming inability to grasp the concepts of ethics and moderation. In fact, his unattractive physique is in direct opposition to that which would normally be considered imperative to male stardom. It seems, however, that the toned biceps and large pectorals that Mr. Trump lacks have served to reassure the unfit, old men of America that they too may marry a model.
There is one remaining facet of the celebrity diamond: Celebrities who are famous only for being famous. This is a purely american phenomenon, and a disconcerting one at best. It seems to be the spawn of the second millenium, with Paris Hilton as its most famous poster child. These people are neither discernibly intelligent, attractive, talented, nor humanitarian. Featured in the Style Section of your local paper with disturbing regularity, Who are these people?
The answer is short. Celebrities are not people-- they are, to all but themselves and a few trusted friends, brands. Pamela Anderson and her buxom body? A brand. Babe Ruth, and the nostalgia for “the good old days” that he incapsulates? A brand. Princess Diana of Wales, a satire of herself? A brand. Michael Jackson, a bright, vivacious child who degenerated into a shell of a man? A brand. The Kennedys, their bright, white, all-American smiles lighting up your black-and-white television set? They are a brand. (Boyers, pg. 3-6)
Celebrities are, it seems, an integral part of American consumer culture. We strive to possess. People, ideas, automobiles, houses, companies, clothes and most importantly, money. It is quantity over quality. We watch reality television to escape from the reality of our lives, we drive larger cars as insurance against death, we buy and build bigger houses for the sole purpose of announcing our wealth. We consume to fill the bottomless pit of our emotional insecurity and we believe that by purchasing one more object-- just one more-- we will be fufilled.
It is not suprising that celebrity culture and consumer culture should go hand in hand. As the brands in consumer culture allow you to believe that by consuming them, you will absorb some of their qualities. Celebrities are a different kind of brand-- each has their own distinct qualities, but after those basic attributes, we are free to paint whatever picture of their personalities we wish.
Often, we idolize celebrities: They are beautiful, healthy, in love, rich, thin, able to vacation wherever and whenever, able to consume massive amounts of stuff, doing work that they love. They are happy. In fact, if we had been in the same place at the same time as them, we would be as or more successful than them. If we met them, we would click immediately, and their personalities would be the carbon copies of the ones you have created for them in our head.
Of course, there is a flip side to this. We are fickle. In a recent movie (which was, ironically, essentially about the nature of fame) the protagonist is told that “There is nothing the public enjoys more than seeing a star triumph. Except for seeing them fall.” This is true. Has your favorite star’s daughter recently been sent to rehab? Ah, well. You never really liked her anyway, and besides, that is what happens when you are constantly on location, filming mediocre blockbusters and eating nothing but grapes. We are not intristically stupid-- in the back of our mind (or in the front) there is a little doubt, worming its way through the arteries in our brains. We know, no matter how unclearly, that having everything will not make us automatically happy. Of course, we may try to delude ourselves into believing so anyway. However, it is always reassuring to see an idol fall. It lets us temporarily forgive ourselves our faults; we can say, “Well, I cheated on my spouse. But so did Bill Clinton. At least my girlfriend was hotter than Monica.” (Dowd, pg. 1)
Therein lies the genius of the celebrity system. They are our closest friends, our most bitter enemies. We are free to nurture them, to abuse them, to put them through the most horrific tribulations to demonstrate their love-- tribulations they will most certaintly endure, for why should our own creations not adore us? The Brad Pitt Brand, in our minds, is the most sensitive man we have ever met, and The Catherine Zeta-Jones Brand’s personality is just as jaw-dropping and heart-stopping as her face. Of course, there is the rather troubling psychological aspect of this: how does this idolization affect the people beneath the brands, and how does it affect the fans?
While no celebrities have commented on celebrity culture recently, it seems a matter of common sense to predict what they would say. “It is stressful” one starlet would say, but, lest she lose her contract, add “But very worth it!” A slightly more honest celebrity might assert “Well, I got into this business to be an actress. And that is what I still am, but I suppose I’ve become a movie star as well. It is not all a bowl of strawberries and cream.” The division of movie stars and actors is one of pride: a movie star is all airbrushed commercial appeal, while in theory an actor exhibits some sort of talent as well. The point is debatable.
On the outset, it seems that fans benefit from the stars they worship. Maybe they lack a principal father figure and George Clooney has stepped in to bridge the gap, maybe they lost a blonde lover twenty years ago but allow her to live on as Gwen Stefani. Maybe they were thinking about getting a facelift until they saw Joan Rivers and then thought better of it. Maybe they were pondering the ethical connotations of wearing a leather catsuit but then saw the film Edward Scissorhands and decided that an outfit like that is best left to the professionals. Of course, this kind of gratification is very shallow-- and it’s only gratification if they wholeheartedly believe in consumerism and celebrity culture. And when people are desperate, they will believe in anything.
Fans also absorb unrealistic standards from celebrities, most notably young women. To be thin, long-haired, buxom, and aquiline-nosed and bright-eyed is the ideal. The reality is that some people are just cuter when they are round, look better with shorter hair, have a naturally flat chest, a button nose, and sleepy bedroom eyes. None of the last five qualities make a woman ugly or even unattractive, even when together. The truth of the matter is simply that those traits are not what are taught to us by the media and especially by celebrities, and that everyone (not only young women) have a distorted vision of themselves and others. We are looking through tinted glasses, although the shade of their lenses is our prerogative.
Often, these lenses cause us to forget our self-respect. Not only do we accept standards of appearance, we also take for granted values taught to us: If you are attractive (per the celebrity standard), successful in business, rich, successful in love (your husband, wife, boyfriend, or girlfriend is almost as but not quite as attractive as you), own a big house, wear designer clothing, and have influential friends, you are the ideal human. A self-respecting person would examine all of these values. If, at the end of their pop culture vivisection, they still agreed and found the values taught to them sensible, they could carry on, and would still be a self-respecting person. However, most people never actually examine their motives, enviornment, or values-- a stilted existence. Lest the reader assume that celebrity culture causes all of this, it must be known that it is celebrity culture, in a dangerous marriage with consumer culture, is the culprit. Celebrities provide the brands; products the means to become a brand. Is reading a tabloid every once in a while such a sin? No. Is reading tabloids and nothing else, while buying only the clothes you have seen on your favorite celebrity a problem? Yes. We must learn to control the news and messages that the media feeds us-- often by choosing not to eat at all. Just as the wife in Fahrenheit 451 (by Ray Bradbury) has information pumped into her nightly by a personal radio and daily by a room-sized television, humans today absorb messages looking at billboards, reading magazines, watching television, reading newspapers, reading books, playing video games, listening to the radio and CDs.
There is one phrase integral to all elementary school cafeterias: “You are what you eat.” While many children take this literally and ask why they would ever want to be a celery stick, it does have less literal connotations: if you eat healthy, you are healthy. If you eat junk, you will be the last kid picked for kickball. It seems natural to assume, by following the logic of the above statement, and we also are what we think. If we think only of our precious celebrities and their romantic tribulations, then we are merely an extension of the brands we consume. That is right. We are a product. We are a mindless, consuming, ever-hungry pit of self-destruction, money, and brands. We are disgusting. Hopefully, we do not envision this for ourselves. Maybe we spend our time thinking about God, dreams, other people (real people, not brands, not celebrities, not products), history, gardening, hula hoops, anything that catches our fancy. Of course, a little bit of junk food is perfectly acceptable as well. An article or two about the recent scandal may not only provide us with a much needed dose of fun, and may also let us appreciate your own life. The magic is in keeping the balance before we plunge into a mire of superficiality.
Celebrity culture was not always in the hyper-magnified, hyperactive, hyper-publicized vein it is now. Once, the term “celebrity culture” would have referred to famous, talented people and how they interacted with one another, their friendships and passions. Now, “celebrity culture” is the concept of famous brands and how they interact with their fans. Not all celebrities are actors-- some are merely famous because, well, they are famous, some are athletes, musicians, businessmen, politicians, royalty, movie stars, and a precious few have talent in their own art form. This is not to say that they are not talented manipulators and salesmen-- only that the majority of celebrities are not good at what, in theory, they are famous for. Celebrities exist because consumers are willing to let them and to pay for their lifestyles, but consumers must be careful not to over-immerse themselves. Consumers must maintain a perspective. And finally and most importantly-- knowing one’s values, ideals, preferences, and dreams, and aspiring to achieve all these is the highest form of self-respect.

haunting europe

2005-05-14T15:57:00.000-07:00

Once a young girl discovered a beaten-up, dusty guitar in her garage: the strings were terribly out of tune and the body was on the verge of breaking, but the tone was excellent. She had no prior experience but instead guided herself by instinct, bringing the guitar to her room where it remained, hidden, in her closet. she played it every day until her fingers bled: and she was only seven years old. Her parents only believed that she had hangnails, and she did not contradict them.
This continued until she reached the age of 15, when she had a fight with her parents. They fought often, of course; but now they were trying to keep her at home during college, directly preventing her plans to move to the other side of the continent. She left the night of the fight in a whirl of peonies and blue, her mane of midnight hair streaming behind her. She carried only the clothes on her back, her wallet, and her guitar-- which her parents had been, until that moment, unaware of. She drove her car to the parking lot off the highway, where she lived out of it. She continued school and was even awarded a scholarship to the local college, where she excelled in the subjects she adored and failed those that she abhorred. She met a girl in her philosophy class and fell in love with her; for the first time, she played her songs to someone else. They were secret and sacred. After much cajoling, the girlfriend convinced the girl to allow her to tape her: magic on plastic.
What the girl didn't know, of course, was that the girl made a copy of her tape and sent it to a record company. The girlfriend had only the best intentions, but that didn't change the fact that she was ignorant to the girl's nature; the girl had no desire for anyone other than her love to hear her sing and play. The music executive came to see the girl and made her sign forms, signing away her music.
Eventually, the girl was discovered. She was a phenomenon, and the money came pouring in-- along with the love of critics, the public, and groupies. Still, however, the girl did not want fame. When she understood what had happened, she hung herself on her guitar string. After her death, the girlfriend came to her senses-- and she cried until she was blind.

a spectre is

2005-05-08T08:19:00.000-07:00

Welcome to tramps like us!