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!
Via People.com
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 are these teen moms doing on the cover of my gossip magazine?
When I was in the supermarket yesterday, I was struck by the two covers of the major fan magazines. US Weekly featured two ‘stars’ of Teen Mom - the third time the magazine has put the reality stars on its cover this summer/fall, while People reports the “TEEN SUICIDE TRAGEDIES: DEADLY BULLYING.”
Before I delve into the historical and industrial motivations for these covers, I do want to acknowledge that Teen Mom is a rich, if troubled text: as Mary Beltrán points out, it should be called “White Teen Mom” and regularly ignores the socio-economic factors that lead to these young women’s status as ‘Teen Moms,’ but it does not shy from portraying the isolation, despair, and decidedly unglamorous life that most often accompanies teen pregnancy. But there’s also something truly touching about the show that separates it from other reality programming - for Amanda Klein, the mixture of sadness, regret, poor parenting, and inter-personal drama render it irresistible.
When US Weekly made the teen moms into cover girls, it was straightforward to critique the magazine for glamorizing these moms and their choices. The implicit message: impressionable young girls would follow their example in hopes of achieving the cover of a glossy weekly. Of course, most girls are smart and wouldn’t, oh, have a child in order to become famous. But I do see how many girls, especially those who feel mired in poverty, might see pregnancy as an avenue as commonsense as any if it allows them to escape their circumstances.
What’s more, by discussing the suicides of bullied teens, I don’t mean to trivialize the issue. Part of the reason these covers sell is because people are genuinely moved, worried, or feel anxiety about the issues they represent — but that doesn’t mean that these aren’t real people, with real families, and their stories are real, not fabricated tragedies. Whenever I discuss a celebrity — whether loving or hating them, disparaging them or admiring their skill — I’m not talking about the actual person, but the mediated IMAGE of that person. It’s easy to forget with stars, as their very vocation is to be available for that sort of commentary. With “real people” without star or celebrity personas, as the victims of bullying are, this distinction becomes muddled, and reminds of the pain and difficulty that must accompany unintentional celebrity. Just to be clear.
But why would “gossip magazines” be running stories about bullying and teen pregnancy?
First off, Historical Precedence.
Time Inc. began developing what would become People Magazine in 1973, ostensibly as a replacement for Life, which had been shuttered for unprofitability at the end of 1972. Time Inc. didn’t want a gossip magazine — Photoplay, Modern Screen, and Motion Picture were all in the twilights of their runs; due to shifts in coverage and unabashed tactics of scandal-mongering, the label of “fan magazine” was everything that People wanted to define itself against. This new magazine would feature a Hollywood star or two, but its more explicit focus would be PEOPLE — everyday people, political people, people whose will triumphed in the face of adversity, people who were cute, people who played sports well, people who had interesting stories.
The strategy was a brilliant, economically — it expanded the pre-existing content pool, limited to Hollywood stars, Jackie-O, and select music and television personalities TO THE ENTIRE WORLD. If you were a person, you could be featured in People. Scratch that: if you were a cute dog, you could be featured in People. All you needed was a skilled Time Inc. writer to render your story into the stuff of melodrama.
People was incredibly, breathtakingly successful. Part of this had to do with the fact that it could have a “comprehensive launch” due to its placement within the Time Inc. publishing empire. But it also offered a type of coverage — “personality journalism” — that was enormously palatable, went down easy, and was attractive to a nation with “serious issue fatigue” following Vietnam and Watergate. This wasn’t the news, it wasn’t gossip, it was just stories about people! The backlash was immediate: Jimmy Carter decried it, cultural critics framed it as the downfall of engaged journalism. It could be read in one sitting; its stories were the perfect length to read during a commercial break. It could avoid the label of gossip or scandal magazine — which is why it’s collected by public libraries. It was the first mass audience magazine to succeed in nearly half a century.
Of course, People immediately spawned imitators, including US, first published by the New York Times company. Rupert Murdoch attempted to combine the success of People with the format of the equally succesful National Enquirer in the form of a glossy Sun. Even Entertainment Tonight was sold as “People in television form.” Yet none of the knockoffs would be able to compete with People — US passed to various owners and various iterations, and languished as a monthly, neither a true gossip nor industrial magazine in the vein of Entertainment Weekly. In 2000, the magazine became a glossy weekly with a new name: US Weekly.
In 2003, Janice Min took the post of editor-in-chief, and US Weekly began its attack on People in earnest. In some ways, US is to People as the old school Red Sox are to the Yankees: US lacks, or at least lacked, the cash base to pay for photo and story exclusives available to People, with its deep conglomerate pockets, extensive subscription base, and “storied” history with advertisers. Under Min, US was scrappy — they’d attack People, use clever covers and photo-montages to go head-to-head with People exclusives, and generally play the role of feisty, unflappable dog yapping at People‘s heels. And while US still trails People in overall circulation, its readership numbers of increased exponentially since the early 2000s, especially in the much-coveted teen/under-30 market, with an overall circulation of 1.95 million in 2010. (People is still the uncontested leader in the gossip/personality journalism race, with 3.65 million in circulation in 2010).
This roundabout history trip is meant to show that the magazines were founded on the editorial philosophy that people, not just stars, could generate good gossip. Of course, all stars are people - and the really juicy gossip is never related to things they do that seem super-human (buying jewels, jet-setting, looking beautiful — it’s all good copy, but it’s not bestselling material). Rather, when celebrities’ humanness — their fraility, their weaknesses, their vulnerabilities, their compassion, their base desires — shine through, that’s when they’re most interesting.
But again, this is a question of economics. Real people are cheap, if not free, to cover.
It’s nice to think that People covers the story of bullying because they truly view it as a problem plaguing America’s youth. And, given the fact that they clearly had an exclusive interview with Mel Gibson’s ex-wife Oksana Grigoreva, as featured on the top of the cover, it would appear that they were choosing to cover a social issue over a salacious one (although, it should be pointed out, Gibson’s abuse of Grigoreva, and domestic abuse in general, is no less grave or systemic a social ill than bullying). But magazines sell on covers — this is a simple, well-known fact. Magazines make their money through newsstand sales, and people pick magazines on the newsstand based on covers. For this particular week, the ardent human interest story promised more drama, not to mention cultural resonance, than an exclusive interview with a woman whose claims went public months ago.
But there’s also the matter of payment. People undoubtedly paid Grigoreva — that’s why they were able to call it an “exclusive.” But there’s no exclusive rights to covering a public tragedy. Anyone can put the yearbook photos of these teens on their covers. This cover was not only more culturally resonant, but its profit margin was wider. (In general, you can spot a slow gossip week by the presence of a public interest story on People‘s cover.)
The “stars” of Teen Mom would be paid, but again, this number would be (relatively) small — I’m guessing between $5,000 - $10,000, if that, for exclusive photos and interviews per cover. (If anyone has information on the specifics, please let me know). Again, compared to what they would be required to pay a star, or even a reality star like the Kardashians, this is a GREAT DEAL.
And it’s an even greater deal if they can hook readers on the story of these girls. Us has proven particularly adept at “changing the conversation,” as Don Draper would say, when they can’t play on the big boy playground. So they can’t get an interview with Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, or pay for baby photos of another A-List celebrity? Just come up with an alternative narrative, much cheaper, that they can control. They’ve done this with Teen Mom; they did it with Jon and Kate Gosselin; they did it three years ago with Heidi and Spencer. If you say it’s a story, and worthy of a reader’s attention, it becomes one. And if you’re good at using the cover, photos, and captions to create ongoing drama, you can milk it for several, even a DOZEN, issues. Take, for example, the cover detailing Catelynn’s Maci’s “second chance at love.”
A few things to note: first of all, Maci is obviously the most photogenic of the bunch. None of these girls are drop-dead gorgeous - they are, after all, NORMAL PEOPLE — but she is skinny, has clear skin, and is white. You’ve got those things, and you can be a celebrity, no prob. Her “real life” narrative, including the back-and-forth with the father of her child/ex-fiance and new love, is, in the hands of a skilled gossip writer and/or reality television editor, a good melodrama. Her story is just as “tearful” and “tortured” and filled with “hostile exes” as any other celebrity or star — and leads readers to come back for more in future issues.
(As a side note, I’d kill to know the specifics of the contracts these girls and other reality stars sign when they agree to appear on the cover. Does Us stipulate exclusive access? Is it like signing on for a movie with potential sequels, where if the first one hits, you’re obligated to appear in two more? With the three aforementioned examples, Us has proven so adept at changing the conversation that People was forced to play catch-up, printing their own, belated overage of the dramas. The People teen mom cover featured a mom who had not theretofore appeared on Us, so this exclusivity contracts seem likely.)
So that’s why the Teen Moms and the bullying victims are on the cover of your gossip magazines. Whether or not it’s a culturally productive practice — that’s another question altogether. But it’s a brilliant financial strategy, and one that has fueled the success of “personality journalism” in its myriad forms for decades.
Brilliance, as we well know, is not always ethical, nor is it necessarily responsible. But no one ever accused the gossip magazines of being morally sancrosanct. The argument that they’re simply reflecting our morally jaundiced society is a weak one — as I emphasize above, they’re very good at determining what readers will care about, and then feeding demand for more information about that subject. But when a story hits, as this Teen Mom story so obviously has, or even Jon and Kate did before it, it’s not simply because the editors behind the scenes have done a good job of crafting a story. It touches on something — some anxiety, some worry — and amplifies it, embodies it, allows reader to think about these girls’ specific problems instead of systemic problems that lead to teen pregnancy and, in many cases, lives of poverty. The backlash against the covers wasn’t really about whether or not these girls’ lives were being glamorized, but about how gossip and celebrity culture — and consumption of fan magazines — seems to turn every issue, no matter how banal or tragic, into fodder for glamour. The backlash wasn’t against Us, per se, but against larger issues long-percolating around reality television and its celebrification of “real” people — and the unspoken reality that a reality show and celebrity cover might be the only way for the babies of these teen moms to have, say, a college fund, or for their mothers to not have to work several jobs while taking care of the child and trying to go to school. The real issue is class — it’s just not easy to say.
Ultimately, the problem is that personality journalism makes problems digestible - so minced up, re-dressed, and re-situated that they no longer bare any resemblance to the original issue. Indeed, as People‘s first editorial proclaimed, the magazine wasn’t about ISSUES, but PEOPLE. And this neglect of issues — and our national hesitance to deal with them head-on — is the real problem cultural illness. Teen Moms on the cover of US Weekly is just one of many symptoms.
Contemporary Fan ‘Magazines’ & Digital Interactivity
Note: This post starts where the yesterday’s on Classic Fan Magazines and Analog Interactivity left off.
Part of what I liked about Orgeron’s article on interactivity was the very application of the term to behaviors so distant from what we consider ‘interactivity’ today. In other words, fan interactivity — and even agency — are now ascribed to those who log hours on Discussion Boards, who rally together to save beloved television shows, whose interest is (sometimes) authenticated through actual changes in television narrative, who write fan and slash fic and distribute it within international digital communities. Interactivity has also taken on a connotation of immediacy — you can voice your displeasure with a scene by logging on to the show’s website while you are watching; you can reply directly to a celebrity’s tweet within seconds using your own Twitter account. Digital engagement and interactivity is NOW.
Today’s analog fan magazines - the actual paper magazine that you pick up at the store or receive in your mailbox — contain a large amount of the same interactivity that characterized the classic fan mags. Letters to the editors, polls, second-person address, advertisements that hail the consumer and ask her to judge herself and others. They pale in comparison to that which I discussed in my previous posts, but such features exist nonetheless. With that said, such analog interactivity is so 1992. Today’s gossip industry (and version of fan “magazines,” also known as gossip blogs) has taken interactivity to new level.
For gossip blogs such as Perez Hilton, the form of the blog itself invites commentary. As I think about it, I’ve discussed this at length elsewhere as concerns Perez Hilton: fan comments provide a public platform for readers to voice their opinions quickly and often; while Perez does not engage commenters, the existence of the forum — mostly uncensored — has provided a site for dedicated readers to engage in prolonged discussion of both Perez and the minutae of the celebrities on whom he posts. Perez often concludes a gossip bit/story with the question “What do YOU think?”, explicitly encouraging feedback and implicitly validating their opinions. Below, for example, the typically opinionated Perez defends Jersey Shore ‘star’ Snooki, ending with ‘Thoughts?’
Over the last year, Perez has implemented social media tools — the ability to Facebook ‘Like’, Retweet via Twitter — increasingly present on all information sources (including this one). I don’t want to suggest that reposting a story is a means of interactivity, but when the story is reposted with commentary, the user is obviously interacting with the item…and inviting others to do so as well, either on Perez on via Facebook comments, Twitter replies and retweets, etc.
The analog publciations - People, US Weekly — have cultivated their websites into havens of interactivity, putting them in convergent conversation with their print forms.
The Fashion Police solicit response - and offer immediate feedback.
Reader-response to a picture of Angelina Jolie:
Readers ‘deputized’ as gossip-getters -
The interactivity at Lainey Gossip is a bit more subtle — and rarely referenced by Lainey herself. In fact, the largest form of response comes in the form of Lainey soliciting emails and comments from her readers — not to be posted on the actual blog, but so that she can gage reader sentiment. In fact, she refuses to open up comments sections on posts — it invites a space for hate, and if you’ve seen a Perez comments section, you’ll see that she’s right. She does periodically publish hate mail, and when I first posted on my own experience with Twi-hard hate, way back last fall, she linked to my post as a means of showing that Twi-hate is by no means exclusive to her. She opens every day with ‘Smutty Shout-Outs,’ where readers email their congrats, love, hopes, etc. for others (for example, someone can say that their friend is having a rough time and needs pictures of The Gos, Hot Harry on a Horse, etc.) She also periodically replies on Twitter and through email — or at least she has to me (has she to you?) I suspect that the gesture towards interactactivity, depicted below, is just that — a gesture. It’s certainly very rarely integrated into the gossip posts themselves; she talks about her freebie-five all the time, but certainly doesn’t end each discussion with “go post your own for all to see in the space to your right!!”
Ultimately, the biggest gestures towards interactivity are far more personal than the bigger, more conglomerate sites. See, for example, the recently published pictures from the Smut Soiree — where readers mingle with Lainey. (Speaking of which, attending the Smut Soiree is totally going to be my Ph.D. graduation present from my best friends. Just sayin’.)
People, US Weekly, and even Perez and Lainey are, in many ways, aping the success of TMZ, which encourages interactivity at every turn. The TMZ style is characterized by garishness (both in aesthetics and general rhetoric) and oddness (submit pictures of you grilling!). For myriad reasons, however, TMZ receives more traffic than all of the aforementioned gossip sites combined. Whether the opportunity to interact is part of that allure — well, you can tell me if you’ve submitted pictures of yourself grilling, or phoned in a tip, or voted in a ‘who’s hotter’ poll…..(in all seriousness, please tell me if you have).
Soliciting reader opinion on the Mel Gibson case — can he be forgiven?
(And offers you a chance to ‘live chat’ about it…)
Interactivity ‘puzzles’ — an old National Enquirer trick.
Bestowing readers with power over the site itself :
‘Who’d You Rather,’ a regular TMZ feature (with poll results below)
So how is this different than the analog interactivity described in my last post? I want to argue that what has fundamentally changed is the idea of us, as readers, having any sort of sway over Hollywood or celebrity culture. Part of this disconnect can be linked to general celebrity indifference — long gone are the days when a star would ‘write’ an article in direct response to fan sentiment. And even though celebrities cultivate an aura of authenticity around their official online interactions — on Twitter, on their websites, etc. — there’s still very little sense that our interaction on a gossip site will change the way that Hollywood, the gossip site, the gossip maven, or celebrities in general will behave, dress, etc. And while I think that Twitter has reintroduced a modicum of belief in the power to speak directly to and receive communication directly from the celebrity, it remains a relatively nascent phenomenon.
I also think that there’s a broader understanding of celebrity culture as a machine — an industry unto itself — and thus far more immune to the complaints and suggestions of fans, however univocal their protests may be. In other words, those who are interested in celebrity gossip are more cognizant of the celebrity as a product — of the machinations that go into image creation, of the fact that celebrity gossip itself is entertainment — and less likely to believe in celebrities as actual humans open to suggestions. [I'm not suggesting that everyone was inveigled by the star system during Classic Hollywood, but the illusion was much more easily tended, and thus all the more easier to believe]. When someone comments on one of Perez’s posts, it’s not because she’s under the illusion that the celebrities featured in the post will actually read it — rather, it’s a means of voicing her opinion about the celebrity (and what he/she stands for) and engaging in dialogue (sometimes ethical, other times certainly not) with others. Similarly, acting as ‘fashion police’ on the US Weekly site is less about you policing the actual star and more about policing women’s choice of fashion in general, and what you believe is and is not appropriate (or beautiful, or fashionable) to wear in public.
Does this ring true? Let me know your own experiences with interactivity — and how you think it’s different than the analog interactivity cultivated in the past.
Sandy Blindsides the Gossip World
The details: Sandra Bullock is/has adopted a baby from New Orleans, Louis Bardo Bullock. Bullock and estranged husband Jesse James began the adoption process four years ago; they took Louis home in January, but chose to keep the adoption a secret at the time. In March, it was revealed that James had engaged in multiple affairs, including one with a woman who had dabbled with Neo-Nazi apparel/performance. Now that Bullock has separated from James and announced plans to seek a divorce, she has continued the adoption process as a single parent.
The Strategy: Bullock enjoyed an enormous amount of positive press surrounding her Golden Globe/Oscar win — she had at last usurped Julia Roberts and Reese Witherspoon as America’s reigning sweetheart; she was box office gold (just forget about that pesky All About Steve; and even if the critics lambasted The Blind Side, America loved it. She looked gorgeous at the Oscar’s and accepted her award with grace and poise — all with Jesse James by her side. The revelation of James’ affairs — including one dalliance that apparently took place when Bullock was accepting an award — was the equivalent of beating an adorable and likable puppy. (Side note: women always get compared to objects in situations like this — John Mayer’s treatment of Jen Aniston was like ‘burning the American flag.’ Find me an instance when a man is turned into an object to describe his treatment at the hands of another?) When I heard the news, I actually gasped. Not because I necessarily love Sandra Bullock — I actually only really like her in Hope Floats — but because the scandal, and its timing, was so ridiculously unexpected.
Bullock basically maintained media silence since the James story broke. She moved out; she apparently wasn’t wearing her wedding ring, she made an announcement clarifying that she and James had not, as rumored, made a sex tape. But she kept her visibility to a minimum. This was crucial, as it effectively amplifies the current announcement…and makes it seem far less manipulative, or, at the very least, less part of an overall strategy. The message of a singular, unified message, with a singular, unified story is clear: Sandy just wants to be happy — and she’ll let us have this one glimpse, but she doesn’t play that celebrity game!
What’s not being said: While many outlets, from E! to Lainey Gossip, are expressing surprise and admiration that Bullock was able to keep the secret for this long, very few are being explicit about what a truly adroit move this is on Bullock’s part. But the finesse isn’t limited to the fact that she kept it secret this long: Bullock made three crucial decisions concerning the adoption of this baby and the publicity surrounding it.
1.) Keeping Quiet During Awards Season.
To my mind, this is the most crucial move — and the one that no one, at least no mainstream outlets, are talking about. In the interview with People, Bullock explains the silence around her adoption as ‘it being so crazy.’ In other words, she’d be all over the place promoting the film and her awards run, and wouldn’t be able to handle the concurrent publicity. Okay, fine, maybe.
But pause for a second and consider WHAT A HUGE CLUSTERF*** it would be if Bullock would’ve announced the adoption of a black kid while campaigning to win Hollywood’s highest honors for playing the role of a woman who ADOPTS A BLACK KID.
Of course, we want our stars’ extra-textual lives to mirror their textual lives, but usually this mirror-effect is reserved for personality traits and relationships. Not the adoption of children. And no matter how much Bullock emphasized the fact that she had begun the adoption process four years ago, the timing would read as highly manipulative, and her actions would seem ingenious…..the exactly opposite of Bullock’s star image.
My guess is if the news would’ve come out, Bullock wouldn’t have won the Oscar. Not because Hollywood frowns upon adoption (or inter-racial adoption), but because it would’ve read as too calculated….and the predominant wisdom in Hollywood is that Bullock won not on the strength of her performance, but on the strength of her likable personality in the business. This move = not likable, at least not in the awards run-up, no matter how they spun it.
2.) Keeping Quiet During the Maelstrom
Again, crucial for appearances. One of my students referred to the adoption (and the concurrent divorce announcement) as the equivalent of the ‘break-up puppy.’ In other words, the dog that someone gets after a break-up to sooth one’s emotions. Now, please do not mistake this analogy as me actually calling this young child a dog, but the comparison — a new lovable distraction — holds.
The baby thus functions as the redress necessary for Bullock to move beyond this scandal. Scandal theorists have written at length about how every scandal — whether Bush’s mistake in going to war in Iraq or the revelation of Tiger’s sexual activities — demands some sort of redressive action in order for society to smooth over the rupture caused by the revelation of the transgression. There has been no redress for the Iraqi War — and thus it is still a scandal — and Tiger’s attempt at an apology (accompanied by a trip to sex rehab) was no true salve. Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie adopted a child and had a baby; Rita Hayworth married a prince and gave birth to a princess. And Sandra Bullock — who actually wasn’t the cause of the scandal, but the victim of it — adopts a baby.
But how does a baby function to redress the scandal? First, babies are a distraction. They’re adorable and become the topic of discussion. Why talk about how your husband had sex with a tattoo model when you could talk about how cute your baby is? The adoption/birth process effectively changes the narrative — a strategy that political strategists have long employed. From this point onward, Bullock’s narrative is all about moving on, growing up, and being happy — with a child of her own.
But in order for this narrative to monopolize the gossip space, Bullock had to wait until things quieted down. James went to sex addiction therapy; her things were out of the house. She even filed for divorce last Friday — a move that went undetected, as she filed under mixed-up versions of both of their initials. Now, when the story comes out, it functions as a complete and clean break.
Babies are also a signifier of wholesomeness. Bullock is rejecting the aspects of her past that have emerged as unsavory — specifically, the Hitler-costume wearing, motorcycle-repairing husband — and re-embraced her domestic image. The movie is exactly what will please her ‘Female Forever Fans’ most — a demographic I theorized at length here.
3.) Keeping Quiet Until a People Magazine Cover Can Be Arranged
Bullock (or rather, Bullock’s PR team) approached People. This is no secret — the managing editor of the magazine just talked about it on The Today Show. For those unversed with the celebrity game, this might seem like Sandy was just trying to allow fans a window into her life and inspire those who want to start over again. Okay, fine. But People is where stars go to announce big decisions — see, for example, myriad announcements of homosexuality, pictures of babies (even Brangelina’s), Elizabeth Edward’s decision to seek a divorce, etc. It’s sanctioned, it’s totally clean, it holds punches and, chances are strong that Bullock got full approval of the text of the article (not to mention the pictures) before it went to press.
I’d also echo Jezebel’s point in “Five Biggest Questions Sandra Bullock and Her Baby” that the fact that Bullock effectively hid a child for nearly five months underscores the fact that most ‘breaking news’ in the celebrity world is planted…and calls our understanding of what is and is not sanctioned (including paparazzi photos) into question. Put differently, if you can hide a baby, you can certainly hide a budding romance, and anyone who says that the were attempting to stay low key is not only lying, but attempting to garner press attention. Bullock’s ability to hide illuminates somewhat ironically illuminates the machinery of the celebrity industrial complex. And that makes us all feel somewhat ashamed in buying the spontaneity its selling.
And so she pulled it off. And it’s the biggest gossip news of the week, even the month. The other gossip magazines are most likely seething…and preparing their own covers for next week. But what ideologies are undulating beneath this move — and the semiotic playground of the pictures/feature itself?
First off, look at the cover. And look at Baby Louis, in close-up below.
As Jezebel (and many others) have pointed out, the beaded necklace signifies, for better or worse, as ethnic or African. Apparently the necklace was a gift from Bullock’s other daughter, Sunny, one of James’ kids from another marriage, and is intended to represent all of the kids in the family. [I'm unclear as to whether Bullock officially adopted Sunny, and what role she will play in those kids' lives from now on.]
Which brings us back to the glaring question that no one’s really talking about — DID YOU NOTICE THAT THIS CHILD IS BLACK? Please don’t mistake me: I think that adoption is so wonderful and necessary, and I think that the fact that most white parents in America don’t want to adopt black children (many of them are adopted by European parents) illuminates some crucial tensions still very present in American culture. What I want to emphasize, then, is that the adoption is a ideologically potent decision, underscored by the fact that her soon-to-be ex-husband IS A BIGOT. Take, for example, Bullock’s own (deflection) on the topic:
I want him to know no limits on where he can go. I want him to experience all culture, nationalities, countries and people like I did. I want his mind to be open and free. We were raised that we are all the same. No one greater, smarter, more powerful. We are all equal. I would love for Louis to know that . He has a big, beautiful, diverse family. As long as he know he is loved and protected and given the opportunity to touch and see everything, then I will have done my job as a mama.
This is multi-cultural rhetoric at its height — and has been espoused throughout both Crash (also starring Bullock) and The Blind Side. What it neglects is cultural specificity. Again, I think that every child deserves a loving home, but to neglect the power of this decision — and the fact that Louis is black — is to pretend we live in a post-racist/racial world, which we definitively do not. Again, this isn’t to say that mixed-race adoption is bad, but that there are a whole set of considerations when dealing with the white adoption of black children…ones that we haven’t entirely worked through in America.
When I posted the cover photo on Facebook, I garnered a number of responses, including the following one from my aunt:
i suppose it just isn’t possible that she wanted a baby, found a baby that needed a home, adopted that baby, and loves him to pieces? and sadly, in the process, some one didnt know how to behave like a grown up and she had the fortitude to kick him to the curb?
My aunt’s response encapsulates what a lot of Americans are feeling about the announcement today — and legitimately so. It’s certainly the message of the article and the specifics of its release. And, to step out of my analytical role for a second, I really do think that Bullock will love and cherish this child. But at the same time, we need to remember that yes, Bullock is a real person, with real desires and emotions, but she is also an image. And what that image does — and our response to it — says so much about our current understandings of the way that race, sex, family, and single motherhood function in our society today.
Major League Baseball, meet the Minivan Majority.
Today’s excellent post comes courtesy of fellow UT media studies grad student Mabel Rosenheck, whose undying passion for the Phillies has *almost* convinced me to put away my Minnesota Twins Homer Hankie.
(Or maybe it’s just Chase Utley, who can really say).
Wholesome and Hardworking Chase Utley
And specifically, Chase Utley meet the minivan majority and minivan majority meet Chase Utley. Chase Utley is the Philadelphia Phillies 30 year old second baseman. Since getting the call up to the big leagues in 2003, Utley has been named an all-star 4 times, the best offensive player at his position three times and to Team USA at the World Baseball Classic twice. He hits for average (career .295) and power (20+ home runs and close to 100 RBI in his 5 full seasons as an everyday player). He has speed (stealing 23 bases this year, a career high). He has defense. He catches balls that should be hits in right field and throws to first to complete the double play. He is what baseball people call a five-tool player, a Mickey Mantle, a Hank Aaron.
He is also adorable. Not only does he have all-American good lucks replete with deep blue eyes that can send a 95 mile an hour fastball into the stands, but he has also been voted People magazine’s sexiest man in the World Series. Sexier than Derek Jeter. Sexier than Alex Rodriguez. Chase Utley is sexier than Kate Hudson’s boyfriend (or if you prefer a brunette on television, sexier than Minka Kelly’s boyfriend).
He’s also worried about the environment. And he loves puppies. Every athlete has a pet charity, Utley’s comes courtesy of his wife’s dedication to the PSPCA. And the reason she got so involved with the PSPCA? Because she wanted a life of her own when her husband is on the road.
Chase and Jennifer Utley Support the Puppies
But there’s more.
In 2007, Utley signed a 7-year, $85 million contract, foregoing arbitration and opting not to test the free agent market when his initial contract would have expired in 2012. In other words, he is loyal. And though 11 million is nothing to scoff at, with top players like Alex Rodriguez making close to $30 million, and Utley’s worth undoubtedly closer to 20 million than 10… It’s hard to call the guy greedy.
And the list goes on. He hates the spotlight. He just wants to be left alone so he can play the game he loves. He doesn’t want to be a hero. He just wants to help his team and win the World Series. He’s incredibly wholesome, but he’s also just crazy enough to drop the F-bomb on live television.
What Phillies fans have known for years, the rest of the country, and perhaps the minivan majority in particular have discovered this postseason. Chase Utley is not only the man, he just might be their man. The Yankees may have won but Utley may have been the one to make the impression.
There are two linked star systems which must be explored in order to better understand where Utley’s stardom is, where it is not and why. First we should return to a few key points in Annie’s initial blog posting on the minivan majority and second we should examine the construction of sports stardom generally and baseball specifically.
The idea that “people of any race, color, creed or background can make something of themselves with hard work” is of course, the foundation of the American dream of success and affluence. It is also the idea that, perhaps more than any other, underpins the ideology of sport. Fundamental to Utley’s stardom is his dedication to the team and the game. Stories on him often refer to his aggressive workouts, playing injured and incessant game tape viewing. There are a few interesting contrasts to Utley here. One is the perceived laziness of a player like Manny Ramirez who, particularly when playing in Boston in 2008 was criticized for not running out grounders or hustling to fly balls. Another is the undisciplined bodies of big players like Yankees pitcher C.C. Sabathia who is 6’7” and 290 pounds whose size was somewhat inexplicably remarked upon repeatedly in game 4 of this year’s World Series. The point here is that hard work and the disciplined body are linked to a series of discourses which are vital to the game as America’s game, and both the game and the minivan majority as embodiments of America and the American dream.
The Utleys are the Best of Philadelphia
Yet also important to note is that Utley’s body is not too disciplined. He is a model of moderation in every way. In his Phillies uniform we never see flexed biceps or rippling abs. The most we are treated to is a sly glance at his cute butt in tight baseball pants if the camera happens to be cooperating. Though some players conduct shirtless interviews in the clubhouse, never Utley. In endorsements, if not in his uniform, he wears baggy (but not too baggy) athletic shorts and a t-shirt tucked in to the waistband. Though drafted out of high school, he opted instead to attend UCLA where he met his future wife. They dated for 6 years, most of those years long distance, before marrying. Yet they do not embody strict gender roles. Though only now beginning to get press coverage, she is always portrayed as his equal and her confidence in front of the camera is in stark contrast to Chase’s shyness. She is a twenty-first century woman and he a twenty-first century man. They are conservative, as in “those who would like to conserve the current state of things.” She is not a radical feminist, but neither is she Victoria Beckham (or Kate Hudson).
This issue of moderation further speaks to stardom as a dialectic between the ordinary and the extraordinary. One of the brilliant things about sports stardom is how it upholds beauty standards in this dialectic. Utley doesn’t wear makeup on the field, he really looks like that. But we don’t love him for the way he looks (which after all is in part only extraordinary compared to his competition), rather we love him for the way he plays (which has its own aesthetics). And this dialectic is worth highlighting. His athleticism in concert with his good looks provides a powerful moment for awestruck gazes of both women and men, which I would argue is an important function of sports stardom for the minivan majority. Among the recent publicized examples of the male love affair with Utley are Mac’s love letter on a recent episode of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia and Joe Posnaski’s ode to Utley’s swing on espn.com. There has also been coverage in People and elsewhere of this team’s sex appeal for women. It is noteworthy here that minivan majority celebrity gossip outlets like People and Access Hollywood have developed an investment in Utley’s stardom and his start text in the past week or so. Though I’m sure they regularly follow Alex Rodriguez and Kate Hudson, there are never interviews with Jimmy Rollins’ fiancé, or C.C. Sabathia’s wife but there are with Jennifer Utley.
That Chase Utley swing.
Though I could further explore the fascinating gender politics at stake in the Utleys, instead I wish to use this as a segue to another of Annie’s points about members of the minivan majority and the Utleys, they are white. Contemporary sports are generally dominated by blacks (and in baseball’s case, latinos). The NBA is 76% black, the NFL, 66%, Major League Baseball? 60% white (about 8% black, and %30 Latino). MLB, with a star like Chase Utley would seem primed for the minivan majority to launch him into superstardom. But the problem with Utley, I think, is that the sports media doesn’t know what to do with him. Because of his intense privacy (and being a legendarily terrible interviewee and never having any soundbites worth airing again and again and again), they can do nothing but watch him play, watch his white, male body in motion and watch that swing. and I think there is a discomfort there that prevents Utley from becoming a more conventional sports star. This is also however, what makes him potentially the perfect embodiment of the star. As Orin Starn related for the New York Times “we want these athletes to astonish us, but we also want to imagine them as someone like us.” With no fixed identity, Utley’s authentic, white masculinity allows the minivan majority- both male and female- to imagine away. He embodies (and brings forth) the anxiety of both the male gaze and the active female gaze up on the white male body. Thus far, People and Access Hollywood (though also It’s Always Sunny) seem to have been more successful in capitalizing on that anxiety which he embodies. It remains to be seen whether the sports media, ESPN or Major League Baseball will find a way to parlay Chase Utley into the minivan majority icon that he clearly could be.
