Notes on Blake Lively and Leonardo DiCaprio
Subtitle: Why is this relationship so barfy?
I’ve been trying to figure out why I feel this way for the last three weeks. The first time I heard about Blake Lively “spending time” with Leonardo DiCaprio — and then photographed hugging at Cannes — I thought WHOA, GOOD PUBLICIST, LIVELY.
But then, as it became clear that this was really a thing, I realized that I HATED it. Some potential couplings make you happy (this mostly happens when two people you liked seeing together in a movie get together in real life — see especially McGosling (The Notebook), Nina Dobrev and Ian Somerhalder (Vampire Diaries), Bill and Sookie (True Blood, I don’t even know Bill’s real name, bygones), KStew and RPattz (Twilight). We like (most) of these romances because their existence in real life somehow authenticates the fictional romance. See, Edward and Bella do love each other! (Or, alternately, an off-screen romance suggests that the fictional love story IS JUST SO POWERFUL that anyone involved in the filming of it would just naturally fall in love). Simply put, real life romances make us feel less silly for investing/feeling moved/relying on certain scenes of The Notebook to carry us through 99% of hungover/post-breakup mornings.
When the couple has nothing to do with making us feel better about our relationships with fictional characters, then it’s all about how we feel about two images and their fit. As for their actual interactions, the way they challenge each other, or the fact that love doesn’t always make sense to people outside of the relationship, none of that matters. Again, it’s not about a relationship between two people, but a relationship between two images — and the way we feel about the resultant image, the “relationship” image as it were. Just like a star image is the sum of its signifying parts — the way the star appears at premieres, in actual films, in sweats at the supermarket, in advertisements, in interviews — so too is the relationship the sum of the couple’s appearances (or lack thereof) in public, the way they speak of each other in interviews, the way they produce (or don’t produce) children.
A couple like Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie have a tremendously popular/palatable relationship image. Their individual star images compliment each other (both have images whose dominant meanings are “sexy,” “talented,” “aloof”), and their relationship image is still sexually charged, yet also maternal/paternal, charitable, intelligent, savvy, and highly cosmopolitan/global.
Now, I know I’m not the only person who feels this way about Lively and DiCaprio, as many readers and Facebook followers of the blog have voiced their agreement. But what is it that makes this relationship so offensive?
Let’s do a quick run-down of their respective images.

OUR BOY LEO:
*Child star of inordinate talent and promise
*Heartthrob to millions worldwide (babyface makes him all the easier to love)
*Hollywood playboy with “Pussy Posse” of close male friends in his late teens/early ’20s (although this part of his image isn’t as well known)
*Survives transition to adulthood to became star in cerebral and/or politically engaged thrillers and Scorsese’s new muse (in other words: a big, respected star that draws both male and female audiences)
*Managed to transform his boyish cuteness into visceral hotness (see especially sex scene in The Departed)
*Dates supermodels; long-term on-and-off-again relationships with Gisele (pre-Tom Brady) and Bar Raefli. (No inclination towards long-term commitment or marriage; no children)
*Becomes involved in environmental causes; appears on cover of Vanity Fair Green Issue
*Longterm star who has paid his dues and has a firm grasp of both his image and his career. Well-respected both within the industry and amongst his audience, despite lack of “traditional” romances.
OUR GIRL LIVELY:
*Teen star of dubious talent. ”Break-out” role in Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, in which she attracts an older (college age!) soccer coach and (big sigh!) loses her virginity.
*Best known for role of “Serena” in Gossip Girl, a show that manages to have disappointing ratings yet tremendous cultural influence. Obviously the weakest link of the show (perhaps second only to Little J) despite having the best hair.
*Becomes known for great legs, great hair, and great boobs, about which there is much speculation as to their real-ness.
*Long-term relationship with her co-star (and sometimes on-screen boyfriend) Penn Badgley.
*In part due to her character’s expansive and innovative wardrobe, becomes a “muse” of the fashion industry. Karl Lagerfield loves her; calls her “America’s Dream Girl.” Face of Chanel bag line. Anna Wintour puts her on the cover of Vogue. TWICE. Named to Vogue’s “Best Dressed” list.
*Small supporting role in Ben Affleck’s The Town, in which she plays a trashy Bostonite. Mumbles through her lines.
*Nude cell-phone self-portraits leaked on the internet. Lively denies that they’re her, but they pretty obviously are. Boobs looking quite fake.
*Supporting role in The Green Lantern universally panned.
Now, most of what I’d like to conclude about Lively’s overall image has already been said by Molly Lambert in her amazing Grantland piece from last week, which I simply cannot recommend highly enough.
The best bits:
lake Lively is “rich pretty.” So is Gwyneth Paltrow. It’s a kind of prettiness that’s bound up with showing off how much money you’ve spent. Designer labels only, flat-ironed/wavy hair with lots of upkeep, super skinny, sensibly nice tits.1 Blake Lively in a Forever 21 dress is just another beautiful girl. Blake Lively in Chanel is a different creature, an idea called “Blake Lively.” An excuse for the fashion industry to promote boring standards of beauty and wealth through an aspirational avatar…..
….Blake Lively would actually make a great Daisy Buchanan in Baz Luhrmann’s terrible idea for a Great Gatsby movie.3 Daisy is the American archetype of an unattainable rich girl. Pretty, vapid, prone to dancing drunk on tables. Equal parts Paris Hilton and Paris Review. Daisy is not a great character of fiction, because she isn’t much of a character, really. She’s just a collection of fetishistic feminine and WASP traits, with a laugh that sounds like money….
…..Lively is positioning herself as A-List without having any real A-List credentials, besides her part in The Town, which she is still banking on to suggest that she is suited for A-List roles. It’s very Internet age of her to publicly declare herself A-list when evidence of her acting talent is still scant at best. It is an extremely calculated series of superficial career moves that lead to being the Green Lantern’s girlfriend, Leonardo DiCaprio’s staged-photo dream date, and on several covers of Vogue…..
And most importantly:
But how is Blake Lively positioning herself for the long-term? Are any people really “Blake Lively fans”? Could Blake Lively open a movie on her own? Will she start taking Kate Hudson’s terrible romantic-comedy leftovers? At least Kate Hudson has Almost Famous to remind us that she can be a very good actress. What does Blake Lively have? A TV show on which she plays the sympathetic main character’s richer, prettier, more vapid best frenemy Serena van der Woodsen, spiritual heir of Daisy Buchanan?
Now, I realize I just cribbed about 50% of that article. That’s how good it is — and how much I want to direct you to its home to read the rest. But part of the reason it’s so good is because Lambert gets to the heart of what’s offensive and unlikable about Lively: she’s playing above her pay grade. She skipped a step (or five) and is suddenly dating A-Listers, fancying herself an A-Lister. Lots of A-Listers lack in talent — John Travolta — but have, without doubt, paid their dues, and earned their place on the A-List. But skipping ranks? That’s downright unAmerican.
Someone can become solidly B-List by being horrible in films, appearing in television shows, or being pretty/having a nice body. Megan Fox, I am so talking to you. But A-List requires some sort of distinguishing talent, longevity, or enduring cultural resonance. And Blake Lively seems wholly devoid of actual talent, which is why the idea of “rich pretty” is so salient. She is the sum of her beautiful body parts, but none of them are in any way unique or distinguishing. There’s no Angelina Jolie lips, no Reese Witherspoon heart-shaped face. Indeed, all of her beautiful parts could be yours with a personal stylist, trainer, hairdresser, and plastic surgeon. She never says anything witty or interesting in interviews. Her clothing is beautifully tailored to fit her body and always interesting — but always seems very much like it was chosen by someone else, and she’s just modeling it. I mean, Angelina Jolie may pick some hideous dresses, but there’s very rarely the feeling that she’s someone else’s Barbie. There’s just an overwhelming sense that this girl is a blank slate of a body and performer, attempting to define herself through her association with others. I realize that this is not unique, but it does account for my general dislike.
Lambert’s piece has effectively guided me towards an answer to my initial question. Why do I hate this relationship? Most obviously, their individual images don’t mesh. Despite his womanizing past, DiCaprio’s dominant image is that of a well-respected A-Lister, someone who has worked his way through Hollywood and matured as an actor, activist, and individual….even if his relationships with women have not been exactly “solid.” Importantly, and perhaps because he’s a man, the parts of his sexual/relationship history that are less flattering are easily ignored. Lively, by contrast, is young, immature, and playing above her level. Even with the respect of the fashion communities and legions of lusty dudes, she’s still just a body, not a star. Plainly put, her image doesn’t “deserve” DiCaprio’s. She’s being uppity. She needs to date some more CW stars before she climbs the ladder to Oscar nominees.
As for their relationship image, it’s still in its early stages. The first photograph of them as a couple was a brilliant maneover on the part of their publicists: grainy, obviously paparazzi (although they were almost certainly tipped off), with an obvious connotation of an “intimate” moment not meant for public consumption.

Of course, this moment was absolutely meant for public consumption — if they were actually being careful and didn’t want the relationship public, they wouldn’t hold hands in public, even if it was Europe. But the photo’s aesthetic strongly suggests that the relationship is not a publicity stunt, forming a sharp contrast to, say, the first pictures of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes. Since then, DiCaprio and Lively have apparently been gallivanting around the rest of Europe and the United States, sightseeing in Verona and going to Disneyland. This seems very clunky to me. Verona?!? As in the site of Romeo and Juliet? As in the setting of the movie in which Blake Lively probably saw him when she was still, oh, 5? AND DISNEYLAND? Brangelina can go to Chuck-e-Cheese’s and I think it’s great; these two at Disneyland makes me feel the same way I did when Ryan Gosling took Olivia Wilde to the aquarium.
Whatever happens with this relationship, I don’t know how much it will actually affect DiCaprio’s image, other than bolster the notion that he can attract some of the most beautiful women in the world. As for Lively, she might ride this for increased gossip visibility, a handful of Us and Life and Style covers, and enough buzz to make people forget how horrible she was in The Green Lantern. But will it make her an actual A-Lister? If she has no fans, no charisma, and no talent, how will she remain relevant? Or is the power of the beautiful, albeit “rich beautiful,” body enough to sustain her stardom?
Serena Van Der Woodsen would just go find a professor or a Prince to marry. But what will Blake do?
Five Crotchedy-Ass Questions about X-Men: First Class
First, a caveat. I was totally prepared to love this movie. Every year one blockbuster surprises me — Star Trek, the first Iron Man, the first Pirates, etc. — and I was ready for this to be this year’s pleasure. I’m not a die-hard X-Men fan, and I haven’t seen X-Men 3 or Wolverine. But I do love the central premise, and watched the shit out of some X-Men cartoons on Saturday mornings circa 1990. Which I guess means that I’m a pretty perfect peripheral target for this film: a woman who likes movies, goes to blockbusters when they’re reviewed well (as this one was), and has a moderate investment in the genre. If this movie got a bunch of people like me in the seats, it’d could become a veritable phenomenon, doing even better than its predecessors. But I won’t equivocate: I was pretty sad about how bad this movie was. I’m sure there are answers to some of the crotchedly-ass question in the original text of the comic book, and I don’t begrudge a movie for attempting to follow its source material. But you’ve got to make it work, and work it did not not. And so: are there answers to these questions?
5.) IS THIS MOVIE FROM 1962 OR 2011?
There’s a tremendous amount of period confusion going on this film — hairstyles, body types, clothing choices, and art design. Some outfits (especially the ones for the women) take advantage of the ’60s go-go aesthetic in order to highlight the legs/breasts of January Jones, Jennifer Lawrence, and Zoe Kravitz, but apart from Darwin’s leisure suit and Beast’s glasses, there’s little to place the men in the decade. And the hair? Havoc and Banshee both look like they just got styled for an Abercrombie shoot. A movie doesn’t need to be perfectly historically accurate to be good, but this is just shoddy work.
4.) ROSE BYRNE WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN THIS MOVIE?
No seriously, how would a twenty-something woman get a high placed job in the CIA in 1962? How is this even *slightly* plausible? And then once she’s there, could her role be more vacant? Am I supposed to buy that there’s chemistry between her and Professor X? When she shows up on the mission I seriously said to myself HOW THE F DID SHE GET THERE? This should not happen with a major character.
3.) IS THIS MOVIE CAMP OR STRAIGHT UP?
There are several moments — mostly within Kevin Bacon’s “inner sanctum” — when I’m pretty sure that this movie is making a joke about bad Bond films from the ’60s. The sipping of champagne, January Jones’s bad acting, Kevin Bacon’s earnestness, the matching outfits -
Plus the incredible moment when McAvoy reads Jones’s mind and a montage of missiles making their way across a giant world map materializes. (This is hard to describe, but if you’ve seen the film, you know what I’m talking about — I laughed *really* loudly). Now, in the case of Black Swan, I loved the debate over whether it was camp or not, whether it was trying to be camp and therefore not camp, etc. etc. I also like when a genre refuses to take its conventions too seriously (see: Iron Man). But again, this movie can’t decide if it’s campy or very serious, a Guy Richie-esque series of montages (see: the training segments with the split-screens) or a straight-up super hero story. Two very disparate tones, one jumbled movie.
2.) WHY ARE THE WOMEN IN THIS FILM SO INCREDIBLY UNINTERESTING?
I love Jennifer Lawrence, and despite the inanity of January Jones’ star persona, I do like her particular brand of bad-acting in Mad Men. (I especially enjoy how the writers/directors use it to convey the fact that Betty Draper was/still is trying to act a certain part in life, and her inability to convincingly play that part). And Rose Byrne shouldn’t be appearing in this movie so close on the heels of Bridesmaids: I keep expecting her to serve me some giant Parisian cookie. As Anne Thompson notes, the women in this film are under-developed, poorly-directed, seem to be bad actresses, or all three. Female super-heroes can be sexy, they can be stubborn, but don’t make them so sucky. I wouldn’t want to be any of these women.
1.5) ARE KEVIN BACON’S HENCHMEN ACTUALLY CLONES OF THAT RANDOM OTHER-DUDE FROM THE BLACK EYED PEAS?
1.) AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, WHY ISN’T THIS MOVIE ALL FASSBENDER, ALL THE TIME?
James McAvoy is one of my star boyfriends. But in this movie, I couldn’t care less about him — and giggled each time he did put his finger to his temple in arch concentration. He’s supposed to be our hero. This is a HUGE problem. Can the next movie just be a pre-prequel when we follow Fassbender before he arrives in Switzerland?
Do you have even more crotchedly-ass questions to add?
Celebrity Proust Questionnaire: Kelli Marshall
1.) What is your name, occupation, website?
Kelli Marshall, Visiting Assistant Professor of Cinema Studies, University of Toledo, http://kellimarshall.net/unmuzzledthoughts
2.) What is your first memory of being drawn to a star or celebrity?
Probably Aileen Quinn in Annie (John Huston, 1982). After watching the film many, many times, I wanted to know the actor’s real name, what color her hair was underneath that wig (if that was even a wig), if it were really her voice singing “Tomorrow,” etc. In fact, I was so enamored by Quinn and the musical that I named my childhood dog Sandy.

3.) Who are your favorite participants, broadly speaking, in the history of stardom, and why?
Gene Kelly. The short answer: he represents a complicated form of heterosexual masculinity that is largely absent in cinema today. The long answer: “Elation, Star Signification, and Singin’ in the Rain; or Why Gene Kelly Gets Me All Hot and Bothered”
6.) You can only date on person in all of celebritude, past and present. Who? Where would you first date be? What would he/she get you for your birthday?
Honestly, I don’t think of celebrities this way. I enjoy analyzing them from afar, watching them onscreen, and reading about them (I’ve devoured loads of star memoirs, for instance). But I’ve little interest in befriending them (or meeting many of them) either in reality or fantasy.
7.) Who do you regard as the lowest depth of celebritude?
Reality TV “stars”
8.) Name a celebrity that is
a.) Overrated: Nicole Kidman
b.) Underrated: Catherine Keener
c.) Appropriately rated: Colin Firth // Denzel Washington
10.) What is the greatest/most bombastic moment of celebrity ever?
I don’t know if it’s the greatest, but it’s certainly memorable: Humphrey Bogart and the panda incident. An inebriated Bogart allegedly shoved a woman because he thought she was going to take a stuffed panda he purchased for his son, Stephen. Time reported: “When Columnist Earl Wilson asked him if he was drunk five years ago after an ultra-shapely young woman accused him of knocking her down at El Morocco (Bogart said that she tried to steal his stuffed panda), he replied, genially: ‘Isn’t everybody drunk at 4 a.m.?’” The case was eventually dismissed.
12.) How do celebrities and stardom relate to your own work/extra-work activites?
Occasionally in Introduction to Film and Cinema History courses, I dedicate a lecture to stardom and the star system, and sometimes my students and I discuss celebrities on Twitter and the like. I’ve also recently written an essay on Humphrey Bogart’s star image in light of Lauren Bacall’s latest autobiography By Myself and Then Some.
13.) Why is celebrity culture — and our attention, analysis, and discussion of it — important?
Because, as I point out in my Gene Kelly post, celebrities function as ideological texts on which viewers project their desires; they reinforce dominate cultural ideas about sex, gender, race, religion, politics, etc.; and they compensate for qualities lacking in our lives and (as Richard Dyer writes) “act out aspects of life that are important to us.” In short, for good or bad, “our” celebrities teach us something about ourselves.
Celebrity Publicity vs. Privacy: The Eternal Debate
Earlier this week, Lainey Gossip posted a particularly critical reading of Reese Witherspoon’s current publicity attempts, with specific attention to the contradiction between Witherspoon complaining about her lack of privacy and the recent sale of her wedding photos to People and OK!
The Witherspoon quote from the Vogue interview/cover story/massive photo spread:
But one thing that hasn’t changed is that she is as private as ever. Indeed, she seems almost constitutionally unsuited for the level of fame she has to live with. At one point, I ask her what is the worst thing about being Reese Witherspoon, and she pauses for a very long time. Finally she says, “I mean, I feel like an ingrate for even thinking anything isn’t good. I’m very, very, very lucky. But . . . umm . . . probably that I parted with my privacy a long time ago. We went different ways. And sometimes I mourn it. Sometimes I will sit in the car and cry. Because I can’t get out. That’s the only thing: I mourn the loss of my privacy.”
And Lainey’s take:
Um, remember when Reese Witherspoon sold her wedding to People Magazine and Hello Magazine?
Oh but she’s just a girl from the South who doesn’t know about these thangs! It’s preposterous to think that Reese would up and marry only to go back to work and sneak in a quickie honeymoon only to have to return to go back to work for anything other than necessity. After all, people like Reese, with access and opportunity and resources, they are bound by necessity, aren’t they? They have NO choices, not in their schedules, not in their spending, in not much at all.
So of course not, Reese could not know about, you know, wedding planning around a theatrical release and the potential effect that could have on a movie’s performance, hell no. She’s way too authentic for that.
There are a number of things going on here — with Witherspoon’s actions, her choice of words in her interview, and Lainey’s response to them — and all of them revolve around claims to authenticity and transparency.
First of all, it’s crucial to understand that the tension between celebrities and stars desiring privacy….in the selfsame moment that they expose themselves to the public via interviews, films, and other products….is absolutely, positively nothing new. Even Charles Lindbergh attempted to fiercely guard his private life, which he thought was, frankly, besides the point when it came to his aviation achievements — even as he continued to make public appearances and profit off his fame. During classic Hollywood, there was less complaining about privacy, in part because every statement from the stars was vetted by the studios themselves, and complaining of lack of privacy was tantamount to complaining about the studios, the fan magazines, and the generalized publicity apparatus that sustained the stars. With the mandate of the studios that employed them, stars shared all manner of details of their “private lives” with the fan magazines and gossip columnists, even if those private lives were actually a sham, conjured to harmonize with their manufactured star images.
As the studio system transformed in the 1950s, stars gradually dearticulated themselves from management at the hands of the studios, hiring their own staffs to handle publicity. At the same time, paparazzi culture became gradually more invasive, especially following the frenzy over Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton filming Cleopatra/holding hands/canoodling in Rome. The fan magazines became increasingly bombastic in their handling of the stars, using scandal-tipped headlines, exclamation points, and other suggestive aesthetic means to imply, if not actually name, scandal. The move was at least partially motivated out of necessity: the stars refused to cooperate and offer access, forcing the magazines to “write around” their lack of content. Which is all to say that there was less explicit collusion between the traditional gossip outlets and the stars — a process that continued for most of the ’60s and ’70s. The stars began to publicly complain of the fan magazines and gossip columnists, something they never would have dared to do during the studio system, when such a complaint could inspire negative coverage and effectively doom his/her career. But by this point, the traditional fan magazines and gossip columnists held less sway, and it became common practice for stars not only to complain about the incursion of authors, photographers, columnists, and other forms of publicity, but to sue them as well. (There were dozens of libel suits levied by stars against various outlets during this period).
In other words, the relationship between the stars themselves and the gossip outlets became antagonistic where it had once been incredibly, necessarily cooperative. Starting with People in 1974, however, the cooperative relationship gradually began to reform, as People, Entertainment Tonight, and their various imitators (Extra, Entertainment Weekly, E!, early versions of Us Magazine) all served explicit promotional functions for the star. Exclusives are approved and vetted by the star and his/her publicist and usually timed to promote the his/her upcoming or ongoing project. Importantly, these outlets do not look for or break scandal. They will report on it out necessity (if they didn’t, they’d seem out of touch), but they do not stir the scandal pot, as it were, and often provide space for stars to tell “their sides of the story.”
When Reese Witherspoon sold her wedding photos to People Magazine, she was doing two things. First, she was promoting her upcoming film, Water for Elephants, in which she stars with Robert Pattinson.
As Lainey and others have pointed out, this film really, really needs to succeed if Witherspoon is to maintain her status as a top female star (with a $15 million per-film pricetag) with the ability to open a major picture. (Her last hit was Walk the Line in 2005; her last major hit was Legally Blonde 2 in 2003). The reason stars have offered themselves up for celebrity gossip in the form of interviews, photo shoots, etc., has always been PROMOTION. For some celebrities, such as Paris Hilton, they are simply promoting their entire image on the hope that the visibility of that image will help sell products emblazoned with it: perfume, books, nail polish, etc. But stars whose stardom is the result of actual skill — singers, actors, etc. — time their gossip availability to coincide with a specific product showcasing that skill. A film, a television premiere, an album release, a voting period for the Oscars, etc. The announcement of Natalie Portman’s pregnancy was no coincidence, and neither is the timing of Witherspoon’s wedding. I know this might be hard to hear, but it is the absolute truth. Of course, Portman (probably) did not time her actual pregnancy. But she (and her publicist) sure as shit planned the announcement.
The reasoning is simple: the more your name, face, and image is on the minds of the public at large, the more likely they will be to consume a product branded with that name, face, and image.

Witherspoon working hard to remind you that she is appearing in a film with ELEPHANTS, coincidentally entitled "Water for Elephants." Photo via Vogue.com
Witherspoon and publicist were (and are) doing their job, attempting to heighten her visibility and, hopefully, open Water for Elephants in a way that makes a statement about her power and popularity.
The problem, then, is that Witherspoon paired her efforts with an interview in which she complains about the incursions of the press. To be specific, however, she was complaining about a lack of privacy, which is generally associated with papping photographers….not interviews with Vogue, or the two carefully chosen photos she offered to People. She’s complaining about unauthorized publicity; she has no problem with authorized publicity. The problem, then, is that the former is generally incited by the latter. Under the studio system, there was no such thing as unsanctioned publicity, as the columnists, magazines, and other interviews were all beholden to the studios. Now, authorized publicity breeds unauthorized publicity.
Witherspoon is obviously game to pose for magazine covers, look great at premieres, present at award shows. All of these contribute directly to the performance of a film and are, most likely (it not specifically) built into the contract she signed. (Star contracts generally require that the star promote the film — attending premieres, junkets, etc.) The problem is that such highly orchestrated photos and stories aren’t nearly as interesting or tantalizing as those obtained without her permission, which seem to offer a window onto the “real,” authentic Witherspoon, valuable in large part due to its scarcity. (Reality stars prove that we don’t simply hunger for authenticity and “being real” — it’s what we don’t have, or haven’t been able to read about, that we hunger for the most. Details of Brangelina’s sex life, for example).
So Witherspoon ends up looking hypocritical, at once seeking and complaining about the spotlight. But think about how you would feel if Witherspoon said she loved the spotlight, loved paparazzi coverage, loved seeing photos of her children all over the place. Wouldn’t we call her Tori Spelling? Isn’t the SPOKEN reticence towards exposure part of what makes certain stars “classy” and likable? If she relished exposure, she would be forsaking her claims to being “just like us,” a “Southern girl,” a dotting mother, modest, etc. The disavowal is thus absolutely crucial to Witherspoon’s image — even if it’s false or an act or contradictory, it needs to be there.
In general, this simultaneous embrace and disavowal of publicity is at the heart of stardom. Stars are stars because the way that they act on screen, combined with what they seem to represent in their “private” lives, seem to embody something that matters to a large swath of people. But in order to be stars and not just actors, they need to make that private life available, even when it leads to unsanctioned, unwanted, invasive and potentially dangerous coverage. With that said, star scholars have long written about the ways in which contradiction composes the very core of stardom: a star is simultaneously ordinary and extraordinary, “Just like Us” and absolutely nothing like us. From time to time, that contradiction becomes more visible. The more visible and flagrant the contradiction, with little to smooth it over, the more ridiculous a star seems. See, again, Tori Spelling, but also Gwyneth Paltrow and Tom Cruise. We want our stars to embody contradictions seamlessly, and when the seams show, we reject them. Ultimately, the most enduring, valuable, and esteemed stars are those who, with the help of their publicity teams, manage to hide these seams, even as they expand to contain multitudes, embodying all of the meanings we map onto them. At this point, Witherspoon still seems to be in control. We’ll see how the film fares — and how her subsequent publicity attempts address the perpetual contradictions of stardom.
What I Did on my Blogging Vacation: Writing the Dissertation and Finding a Job
The last time I posted — about a month ago on Charlie Sheen — I was completing the conclusion to my dissertation, gearing up for SCMS (film and media studies’ annual international conference) and feeling solid about the state of my dissertation. WHAT A DIFFERENCE A MONTH MAKES.
Since then, I have:
1.) Finished and handed in the completed draft of my dissertation, thinking it was (mostly) fine.
2.) Attended, reveled, and left completely exhausted from SCMS (in New Orleans), where I made several new friends who specialize in celebrity gossip, met scholars whose work has been fundamental and inspirational to my own, and presented on blogging, tweeting, and online networking as a media studies academic.
3.) Came home completely without a voice, which led to the very unfortunate cancellation of my presentation on Kanye and Twitter at SXSW.
4.) Took four separate plane trips in four weeks.
5.) Received the final editorial comments from my advisors on the diss…..and went into a five day flurry of final revisions that challenged me in a way (physically and intellectually) I haven’t felt since the beginning of grad school. (More on this below).
6.) Turned in the final final version of the dissertation just in time to allow readers four weeks before my defense….which will in turn allow me to graduate this May and receive my diploma on my 30th birthday.
7.) Accepted an unexpected dream job teaching film, media, cultural studies, and literature at The Putney School in Southern Vermont. More on this below as well.
8.) Received some exciting/unexpected/super promising emails related to the transformation of my dissertation into a book (if you’re ever wondering about the utility of a blog related to your research, THERE’S A GOOD REASON RIGHT THERE).
8.) Spent a ludicrous amount of time in the meantime catching up on sleep, reading fiction, doing yoga, and playing in the 80 degree Austin weather.
Before I return to regular celebrity gossip, academic style blogging, I do want to say a few words about completing the dissertation and my decision to take the job that I did. While most of the posts on this blog address celebrities and pop culture (the “celebrity gossip” in the blog title) it also approaches them from a perspective grounded in academia….and my relation to academia has always influenced my approach to blogging, my own blogging voice, and the type of topics I choose to cover. I also wish that there had been more descriptions of the dissertation process (and job market) in media studies in particular before I started my own journey, if only to make me feel just slightly more prepared.
FIRST, THE DISS.
I should begin with the caveat that I wrote my dissertation in nine months. I ostensibly began my research on June 1st and handed in the final copy in March. THIS IS NOT NORMAL, AND MIGHT EVEN BE RIDICULOUS. There were a few reasons for the brevity of my dissertating phase:
*I had a number of wise advisors at my master’s program who suggested that I try to use my seminars in my Ph.D. program to investigate and write initial drafts of chapters. So I did this, whenever possible. When I started writing my prospectus, I had already written drafts of three of my chapters. OR SO I THOUGHT. (More on this below).
*I was also lucky to have found a topic — even before I started my Ph.D. program — that I loved and that continued to fascinate me. The approach, scope, and argument concerning that topic (the production of celebrity gossip) has changed over the years, but the overarching topic has not.
*Because I needed to be officially ABD when I started my stint as a Visiting Instructor at Whitman College last Spring, I churned out a prospectus in the two months after I had finished my comprehensive exams (August 2009).
*When I was at Whitman, I was teaching three classes that I had never taught before — and knew that I needed to put the diss on the back burner during that time. I submitted and performed edits on articles during this time (at least one of which became a big chunk of the diss) but did not research or write on the diss from January through May of 2010.
*I am a fast writer and a slow reviser. As evidenced by the sheer length of my blog posts, sitting down and writing has never been a problem for me. Writing better — and with more concision and verve — sometimes has. When people ask how I managed to write over 400 pages so quickly, that seems like the easy part. The harder part was doing the initial research (many hours in the basement of the library on the microfiche machine and sifting through Lexis Nexus) and agonizing over revisions over the last two months.
*My dissertation advisor is phenomenally organized, which meant that I received feedback on my early drafts very quickly. Don’t underestimate how important this is.
My dissertation looks nothing like what I envisioned it as a first year Ph.D. student. It also looks very little like the dissertation I envisioned in my prospectus. Or, rather, the thrust of the argument is the same — but the organization, e.g. the way I went about proving my point, and the language I used in proving that point, has changed rather substantially. What started as a five-chapter consideration of five case studies between 1954 and the present ballooned into a ten chapter look at major shifts in the way that outlets within the gossip industry processed and mediated stars, basically starting at the beginning of the studio system.
[There are various philosophies about how the timeline of researching/writing a prospectus/proceeding through the diss should work. Mine had to be a certain way because of my job at Whitman. If I had to do it over again, it'd be awesome to have had a more thorough grasp of what I'd end up arguing -- in other words, have actually performed more of the initial nitty-gritty primary research. Granted, I had done a fair amount of that nitty-gritty during previous seminars, which saved a lot of time when it came to writing about People, The National Enquirer, Confidential, Entertainment Tonight, Perez, and TMZ. In the end, the way that I did it worked out -- and also helped me keep some momentum, which again cannot be underestimated.]
Even once I figured out how I’d organize the chapters, the diss was constantly transforming before my eyes — especially since I do most specific industrial research for a chapter right before I write it (rather than doing all the research upfront). I didn’t realize that I would be making the arguments about Entertainment Weekly/E!/Extra and their relation to Time Warner that I did, in part because I simply didn’t know as much about them as I thought I did.
Oh, did I mention the fact that only about two or three academics have written about my topic EVER?!? That makes it so much easier to research! Obviously I read just about everything ever written (academically) on Hollywood stars/star theory, but there was very little theorization of the way that these stars were mediated and how the industry that profits from that mediation works/relates to the rest of Hollywood. At times, this lack was painful, as I basically felt like I was connecting dots and forging arguments in the academic wilderness. But then again, I rarely had to pussyfoot around other scholars’ arguments or try to focus on refining a slight argument already made by another scholar. Virgin scholastic territory has its benefits.
My dissertation committee was made of five members, each with specific expertise in an area related to a section of the dissertation (industry, television, 1960s/70s stardom, 1950s stardom, etc.) As such, my chief advisor read every chapter, but an additional committee member also read the chapters that dealt with his/her expertise. Not only did this really help to refine my arguments in subsequent drafts, but also (somewhat) ensures that I won’t have any surprise or major objections when I defend in two weeks.
When I turned in the COMPLETE WHOLE THING at the very beginning of March, I thought things were pretty great. It was done; I would receive a few additional suggestions; I would perform final revisions; there we go. But after returning from Spring Break, both my chief advisor and my other chief reader/editor (who, for those of you who know the person I’m referencing, is famous for his incisive and incredibly editing skills…..that also require a fair amount of work) both basically told me that I had done a very nice job of doing a lot of researching, treading new ground, and forging an argument…..but that the diss, as it was, was merely good when it could be really great. What followed was a whirlwind (read: FIVE DAYS) final editing process in which I cut nearly 50 pages, added 15, and turned the “okay” into something much tighter, compelling, and, hopefully, great. It hurt like a bitch, and I nearly pulled the first all-nighter of my life, but I couldn’t be more grateful that they pushed me to make it better.
You may be asking, “why didn’t this silly girl just take more time?” Economic realities. Last year, the UT RTF program announced that they could not guarantee any funding past the fourth year. Several of my friends in their fifth year were forced to hodgepodge teaching-intensive appointments outside of the department during their fifth years. And while my leave of absence last year (to teach at Whitman) ensured at least another semester of funding, friends, I am sick and tired of accruing loans. I did not go to graduate school in the humanities to amass a loan load similar to that of law and med students who will go on to massive salaries. Yet the realities of living in Austin on our salary have forced continued accumulation of debt, even with my (temporary) Whitman salary to defer costs. What’s more, if the job market this year has taught me anything, it’s that ABDs (people without a completed degree next to their name) are put on the very bottom of the pile, if not entirely discarded, when it comes to job searches. And, as my very sage MA advisor Mike Aronson told me during my second quarter at Oregon, “a good dissertation is a done dissertation.”
And so, it will be done — dependent, of course, upon the committee’s approval on April 22nd.
SECOND, THE JOB.
I’m not going to go into super detail about the media studies job search. Suffice to say that I applied for around fifty jobs — with varying degrees of fit — and received several “bites” (request for additional materials, phone interviews, MLA interviews) but nothing past the first round. From speaking with others in my situation, my lot seems to be very typical. The jobs that used to go to ABDs are now going to those at visitings/postdocs/those fleeing the California schools and downsizing departments. UT has no opportunities for adjuncting or postdocs. In other words, around the end of February, the future was looking very dim. Would I delay the dissertation? Would I defend and try to make ends meet by returning to nannying? (Which, JUST SAYIN’, paid three times what I make as a grad student — at least when I lived in Seattle). How in the world would I get health insurance? On a whim, I Googled a school that had long resided in my recesses of my mind, where rigorous academics met with a dedication to the experience of the natural world. Over the years, I’ve met a handful of people who’ve attended this school, each of which were remarkable, unique, and intellectually confident in a way I cannot quite put in words.
This school — The Putney School — happened to be advertising an opening in English. My undergraduate and M.A. degrees qualify me to teach English; my five years of teaching experience qualify me to teach; my two summers teaching gifted and talented high school students qualified me to teach high school students. I also thought my upbringing in history with the natural world (hiking, mountaineering, climbing, alpine and cross-country skiing, snow-shoeing, gardening, horseback riding) as a child and student in the Pacific Northwest might make me an even more attractive candidate. But high school? Did I really want to do this? Didn’t I pursue a Ph.D. so that I could teach college level kids?
Fear for my future led me to apply. Two weeks later, I received a request for an initial phone interview, which later turned into a Skype interview and an on-campus interview in Vermont. The school flat out bewitched me. There were three feet of snow on the ground — a reality with which I knew I would have to grow accustomed, if I was offered the job — but the students, the campus (on a beautiful farm on dozens of acres atop a hill, just a few miles from Brattleboro, Vermont), the landscape, the confidence and intelligence and overarching energy of the place……I fell in love. I had the opportunity to teach a class of seven students, and they were, no joking, more engaged, engaging, insightful, and straight-out *hungry* to learn than any other students I have encountered, whether at Whitman, Texas, or Oregon. Putney was founded as a progressive school, which means that it builds on the philosophy of John Dewey — who believed, as Putney and its community does, that education is all that you do. Whether waking up at 6 a.m. to milk cows, participating in a small seminar on Existentialism, or learning how to blacksmith, it’s all part of education and the subsequent cultivation of character and intellect.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the reason I had decided to get into academia was not to get a job, but to teach — and to teach at a small liberal arts college where I could help reproduce the type of education that I myself had received at Whitman. The publishing, the networking — all of that was done in service of that greater goal. But when I stepped back, I realized that Putney was a liberal arts college in a smaller package, with even more of the philosophy and adaptability (and lack of red tape) that could create an invigorating and sustaining learning environment for both teachers and students. Did I mention that I get ridiculous breaks? That it’s gorgeous? That I’ll use about a tank of gas a year? The yoga studio looking out into the mountains? There’s a second breakfast built into the day called “MILK LUNCH,” complete with fresh baked bread! The lack of grades and subsequent lack of grade-grubbing? The small (read: 5-10) class size?
But will I end up teaching English? No, or at least not traditionally. Part of the reason Putney was drawn to my application was, indeed, my background in media studies. (And, I’m guessing, the fact of the Ph.D. — they received over 300 applications (a testament to the trickle-down from the academic market). Yet the English Department had recently decided to perform a dramatic overhaul of their 11th grade curriculum, transforming a course that had previously focused on American literature into one more broadly concerned with American culture — essentially an American Studies/Cultural Studies course. Which is exactly what I do: even when I teach Film History, it’s part industrial history, part cultural history. Star/celebrity studies would not exist without movies and television and other forms of media, but the disciplines are not about the texts in which stars/celebrity appear so much as the ways in which those texts contribute to the star or celebrity’s cultural reception and significance. In other words, this is perfect. For next year, I’ll also be teaching “elective” courses (for upperclassman) in Post-Katrina Media (Treme, When the Levees Broke, Zeitoun, etc.) and Modernism and Modernity, both of which I designed myself.
I received the job offer half-way through SCMS, which was both discombobulating and incredibly fortunate. I was able to talk through the possibility with basically all of the scholars/friends that I admire and who have provided guidance in the past, and the overarching consensus was that taking the job at Putney did not mean forever foreclosing my future as an academic. Sure, I’ll probably never get a job at an Research-1 university. But that was never the goal. So long as I continue to publish, get my diss out in book form, choose my applications carefully, and concentrate on teaching, I could potentially parlay my time at Putney into a job at a liberal arts school. Who knows: maybe I’ll stay at Putney for 20 years, maybe I’ll stay for 3.
If you asked me a year ago if I would’ve ever considered taking a job at the high school level, I would’ve said absolutely not. But opportunities sometimes do not arrive as advertised, and embracing this opportunity took a significant amount of paradigm shifting — and thinking about what I really wanted and needed to be happy and stimulated, whether intellectually, psychologically, or academically. Miles and miles of running/hiking/cross-country trails out my backdoor! Fresh milk and organic vegetables at every meal! MOUNTAINS! Kids who LIKE LEARNING! Those things might not make you happy, but few things make me happier.
To conclude, I’m thrilled to be back on the blogging train and rest assured have no plans to discontinue Celebrity Gossip, Academic Style when I begin at Putney in the Fall. I do hope that I’ve in some way shed light on my own journey through the dissertation and job search process, and would be happy to answer any questions you might have, either in the comments, on Twitter, or via email.
(If you haven’t hopped on the bandwagon, I encourage you to join the Celebrity Gossip, Academic Style Facebook page, where I post the MVP gossip/celebrity/star bits on a daily basis — at least check it out. Not spammy, just awesome.)