March is National Women's Month and the theme is "Weaving the Stories of Women's Lives". And, in a strange twist of fate, as we honor women like Delilah L. Beasley (1867-1934), the first African American woman to be regularly published in a major metropolitan newspaper, the rest of the world seems to be celebrating another woman who is, also, regularly featured in every major metropolitan newspaper around the globe - Kim Kardashian. Kim and her husband, Kanye, have topped the headlines almost daily since New York Fashion Week when her daughter, North West, had a meltdown front row at a fashion show while seated next to Anna Wintour. And the Ides of March have only increased the Kimye Krazy factor as they took their show across the Atlantic. And maybe it was jet lag, or too much sugar from those United Airlines ice cream sundaes they serve in business and first class (so good), but there's been even more of a frenzy: Look!! Kim's dyed her hair blond like that kid from "Harry Potter"!! Kim and Kanye are at the center of a photographer scrum at the Louis Vuitton show during Paris Fashion Week!! OMG, Kanye's written a song called, "Awesome" that's dedicated to Kim which includes lines such as these:
You look too good to be at work/ You feel too good to ever hurt/I hope you ready for tonight/I'm gon cook, you'll be dessert.
And let's not forget the visuals to accompany this love story, including video footage of Kanye casing his wife's scantily clad form as she stepped out to greet her public in a sheer bodysuit and plunging bra, as well as a photo of Kanye with a death grip on his wife's posterior while they walked.
I get it, Kimye - you're a married couple with a young child and you're feeling frisky and trying for a second one. That's your business. But, what's troubling is that the family business also involves your wife's body,or, specifically, one piece of her anatomy, and there's a name for that and it rhymes with "flooring" or "ostitution" (OK, that second word isn't even a word, sorry). Every piece of video footage, every rap lyric, every photograph - these become part of a larger story, of our larger story as women. I'm troubled that Kim doesn't see that her individual choices have a larger impact, and not just because she is a public figure. She has the financial means to dress herself in a way that highlights her beauty, but she chooses, instead, to squeeze into latex dresses that hug her bottom, see-through body-stockings, and visible G-strings to keep the cameras flashing and keep the money flowing. There are young girls in this world being savagely beaten just because they dare to learn to read and seek an education while Kim brags on-camera about sneaking off-set at a fashion shoot (where she's clad in ridiculously expensive designer duds) to have a quickie with her husband!
Look, I don't want to slut-shame Kim K. She can wear what she wants - it's her body, after all. But, I think we should dumb-shame her. That's right - dumb-shaming, because she should know better. She was raised in privilege and given an education that most of us are still paying off, and yet she refuses to engage in higher-level thought. To put it simply, she should not only know better, but she should act better. As women, if the stories of our individual lives are truly woven together, then as little North West grows into her womanhood, how will her mom's story affect her?
Showing posts with label celebrity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label celebrity. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
Friday, November 7, 2014
Lena Dunham Needs a Hug
Since I'm much too lazy to join the Netflix cult, my down times usually involve a marathon viewing session of whatever's on cable, which often means reruns of Sex & The City. And while I loved this show so much in my twenties when the episodes first aired, now, in my 40s and married for almost 13 years, I can honestly call out Carrie & Company for being drama-seeking jerks. You make yourself available sexually for a man who refuses to commit to you? Guess what? You've lost the right to be angry at him. You want to agonize over every little detail of your boyfriend, then guess what? You're definitely going to find something wrong with him. At a certain point you have to wonder if the original working title for Sex & The City was I Love Drama!
So why bash a show that's been dead and buried for a decade? Because in the wake of Carrie Bradshaw, another over-sharing young woman hitting the sheets and the streets of NYC has emerged and is in the process of enraging, or engaging depending on your point of view, a new generation of viewers. Her name is Lena Dunham - and if simply seeing her name in print here is making you see red, then you've heard of her, and you might also hate her. People have been trash-talking Miss Lena for the past few years as her HBO series, Girls has become the media's poster child for the privileged, majority white, millennials who currently hold the title for Most Vilified. Poor Lena! Sure, she undresses, a lot, on her show, and in a way that can make viewers squeamish, but it's her body and it's her thing. I don't think she does it to titillate, in fact the act is more like that of a toddler innocently shedding their clothes and streaking through the house, you know, because toddlers are craycray that way.
Lena's latest controversy is unfolding now while she's on tour promoting her book, "Not That Kind of Girl." One passage, in particular, has set off red flags as it seems to describe an act of pedophilia possibly performed by Miss Lena on her baby sister. Reading the passage, I wondered several things, including: did this really happen, where were their parents, why write about this, and WHAT'S WRONG WITH THIS GIRL? Seriously, what's wrong with this child? As it happens, I wasn't the only one curious about her motivation - both to do this miserable thing and to write about it. A Twitter war was declared, leading Miss Lena to take a break from her book tour and her nearly 2 million Twitter followers.
It's the oddest thing, until you realize that this child grew up in the afterglow of Sex & The City and in the emergence of reality TV and celebrity culture. Somehow, Miss Lena, became confused. Look, I never, ever thought that Sarah Jessica Parker the actress was the character Carrie Bradshaw, but clearly, the fashion designers and stylists working with the actress encouraged her to embody the Carrie mystique every time she graced a red carpet. Soon, Sarah Jessica Parker BECAME Carrie, I mean she even has her own trendy shoe line, something that's so Carrie! So is Lena Dunham really her Girls character, Hannah Horvath? Or is Hannah actually Lena hiding in plain sight? Who knows, who will ever know? At some point, though, who will care? Let's not disparage Miss Lena, instead, hug her because, like those who've gone before her on those NYC streets, her genius and promise will air on a basic cable channel on a weekday afternoon.
So why bash a show that's been dead and buried for a decade? Because in the wake of Carrie Bradshaw, another over-sharing young woman hitting the sheets and the streets of NYC has emerged and is in the process of enraging, or engaging depending on your point of view, a new generation of viewers. Her name is Lena Dunham - and if simply seeing her name in print here is making you see red, then you've heard of her, and you might also hate her. People have been trash-talking Miss Lena for the past few years as her HBO series, Girls has become the media's poster child for the privileged, majority white, millennials who currently hold the title for Most Vilified. Poor Lena! Sure, she undresses, a lot, on her show, and in a way that can make viewers squeamish, but it's her body and it's her thing. I don't think she does it to titillate, in fact the act is more like that of a toddler innocently shedding their clothes and streaking through the house, you know, because toddlers are craycray that way.
Lena's latest controversy is unfolding now while she's on tour promoting her book, "Not That Kind of Girl." One passage, in particular, has set off red flags as it seems to describe an act of pedophilia possibly performed by Miss Lena on her baby sister. Reading the passage, I wondered several things, including: did this really happen, where were their parents, why write about this, and WHAT'S WRONG WITH THIS GIRL? Seriously, what's wrong with this child? As it happens, I wasn't the only one curious about her motivation - both to do this miserable thing and to write about it. A Twitter war was declared, leading Miss Lena to take a break from her book tour and her nearly 2 million Twitter followers.
It's the oddest thing, until you realize that this child grew up in the afterglow of Sex & The City and in the emergence of reality TV and celebrity culture. Somehow, Miss Lena, became confused. Look, I never, ever thought that Sarah Jessica Parker the actress was the character Carrie Bradshaw, but clearly, the fashion designers and stylists working with the actress encouraged her to embody the Carrie mystique every time she graced a red carpet. Soon, Sarah Jessica Parker BECAME Carrie, I mean she even has her own trendy shoe line, something that's so Carrie! So is Lena Dunham really her Girls character, Hannah Horvath? Or is Hannah actually Lena hiding in plain sight? Who knows, who will ever know? At some point, though, who will care? Let's not disparage Miss Lena, instead, hug her because, like those who've gone before her on those NYC streets, her genius and promise will air on a basic cable channel on a weekday afternoon.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Public Mourning and Social Media: The Celebrity Death Edition
By now, you've seen countless news stories about the sudden and shocking death of actor and comic, Robin Williams. And your Facebook and Instagram feeds are teeming with RIPs, nanu-nanus, and images of Robin Williams, including screen shots from "Dead Poets Society," "Mrs. Doubtfire," and, most gut-wrenching of all, Robin Williams as the loveable, flamboyant Genie in Disney's "Aladdin", tenderly embracing the title character. We've now entered the celebrity tribute round of this morbid exercise, with comics and actors sharing their particular and personal special moments with the deceased, and even the President managed to get included in the conversation by offering up words of comfort as Mourner in Chief. And then former child star Todd Bridges had to go and open his mouth, calling Williams' suicide "cowardly," and he was soon joined by other anonymous minions spewing their digital venom at Williams and his family. The actor's daughter, Zelda Williams, was forced to quit Twitter and Instagram due to the rather outrageous behavior of these Internet trolls.
Welcome to Public Mourning and Social Media.
The death of a celebrity has always ushered in a time of public reflection. Celebrities enter our lives and a certain intimate bond is created. Maybe we watched them on a sitcom with our families when we were children, or on the big screen as a favorite action hero when we were teenagers. I grew up watching Robin Williams - in "Happy Days" and "Mork & Mindy." I remember laughing hysterically and singing every line of "You Ain't Never Had a Friend Like Me" from "Aladdin," and trying to copy Williams' Scottish brogue in "Mrs. Doubtfire." There are friends of mine for whom "Dead Poets Society" became a touchstone as it exposed their own teenage fears and hopes and dreams. It is only natural to want to reach out and grieve in community with others who feel this loss. Social media, then, can become an outlet for grief, for some - a virtual version of an Irish wake.
But, public mourning in social media can also expose our own vanity. Look at all of the "Likes" my quote from "Good Will Hunting" got! OhmyGod, Willie Geist on "Today" just said that my tribute in GIFs to Robin Williams got 2 million views on YouTube! Wow, did you see Jimmy Fallon/Norm MacDonald/Arsenio Hall/Carrot Top's tribute to Robin Williams - OMG I cried when I saw it! Look at me, I'm mourning! We clamour for the attention of our connection, no matter how tentative, to celebrity.
I fear that we've reached a point where even our mourning for the not-famous is becoming tangled in the social media web. I've attended funerals where mourners have snapped photos of the open casket or of the burial plot with their smartphones for their Facebook newsfeed. What's next? A selfie with the coffin??
However, there's something even less outrageous, but more pervasive and unsettling, that's happening. It's a pressure to post about the deaths of our loved ones. There used to be the right to privacy about life and death and everything in between. Now, as we share our vacations, engagements, weddings, promotions, and births in real time, we also share sickness and death. When my father died, I felt compelled to post photos of Dad and our family in happier times, to share stories from our life together. With each "like", I felt there was one more person who must understand the pain I felt, a pain that would define me in a totally new way and that I wanted the world, or at least my corner of the world, to know. But, social media is a fickle thing - not everything you post is read by everyone you've "friended," not every "friend" really cares about what happens in your life. To demand and offer intimacy in the same action can be a danger and a disappointment as these moments become a part of continuous digital feed thrown out to be consumed or ignored by the masses.
So, right this minute, take a breath and stop all of the liking/posting/tweeting/retweeting/regramming and any other sharing you're tempted to do after the latest celebrity death. Got some poetry you're itching to use on this monumental occasion - then keep it to yourself and save it for the eulogy of a loved one you actually know. If you're into prayer, then pray for Robin Williams' family and friends as they grieve for their loved one who has departed this earth too soon. Watch his movies and thank him for the moments of joy he brought to your life. Even better, imagine if Robin Williams was your father or your brother or your husband or your son or your friend and needed help. Stop posting and, instead, volunteer at a suicide prevention hotline or become aware of those around you in distress and try your best to help them.
Welcome to Public Mourning and Social Media.
The death of a celebrity has always ushered in a time of public reflection. Celebrities enter our lives and a certain intimate bond is created. Maybe we watched them on a sitcom with our families when we were children, or on the big screen as a favorite action hero when we were teenagers. I grew up watching Robin Williams - in "Happy Days" and "Mork & Mindy." I remember laughing hysterically and singing every line of "You Ain't Never Had a Friend Like Me" from "Aladdin," and trying to copy Williams' Scottish brogue in "Mrs. Doubtfire." There are friends of mine for whom "Dead Poets Society" became a touchstone as it exposed their own teenage fears and hopes and dreams. It is only natural to want to reach out and grieve in community with others who feel this loss. Social media, then, can become an outlet for grief, for some - a virtual version of an Irish wake.
But, public mourning in social media can also expose our own vanity. Look at all of the "Likes" my quote from "Good Will Hunting" got! OhmyGod, Willie Geist on "Today" just said that my tribute in GIFs to Robin Williams got 2 million views on YouTube! Wow, did you see Jimmy Fallon/Norm MacDonald/Arsenio Hall/Carrot Top's tribute to Robin Williams - OMG I cried when I saw it! Look at me, I'm mourning! We clamour for the attention of our connection, no matter how tentative, to celebrity.
I fear that we've reached a point where even our mourning for the not-famous is becoming tangled in the social media web. I've attended funerals where mourners have snapped photos of the open casket or of the burial plot with their smartphones for their Facebook newsfeed. What's next? A selfie with the coffin??
However, there's something even less outrageous, but more pervasive and unsettling, that's happening. It's a pressure to post about the deaths of our loved ones. There used to be the right to privacy about life and death and everything in between. Now, as we share our vacations, engagements, weddings, promotions, and births in real time, we also share sickness and death. When my father died, I felt compelled to post photos of Dad and our family in happier times, to share stories from our life together. With each "like", I felt there was one more person who must understand the pain I felt, a pain that would define me in a totally new way and that I wanted the world, or at least my corner of the world, to know. But, social media is a fickle thing - not everything you post is read by everyone you've "friended," not every "friend" really cares about what happens in your life. To demand and offer intimacy in the same action can be a danger and a disappointment as these moments become a part of continuous digital feed thrown out to be consumed or ignored by the masses.
So, right this minute, take a breath and stop all of the liking/posting/tweeting/retweeting/regramming and any other sharing you're tempted to do after the latest celebrity death. Got some poetry you're itching to use on this monumental occasion - then keep it to yourself and save it for the eulogy of a loved one you actually know. If you're into prayer, then pray for Robin Williams' family and friends as they grieve for their loved one who has departed this earth too soon. Watch his movies and thank him for the moments of joy he brought to your life. Even better, imagine if Robin Williams was your father or your brother or your husband or your son or your friend and needed help. Stop posting and, instead, volunteer at a suicide prevention hotline or become aware of those around you in distress and try your best to help them.
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Kim and Kanye and their Bouncing Baby Bounty
Amid the end-of-the-year countdowns, the fiscal cliff, and rumors of a Brangelina Christmas Day wedding, the last days of 2012 saw the world shaken by the news of an impending Blessed Event of Kardashianic proportions - that's right, Kim Kardashian and her boyfriend, Kanye West, are having a baby!! An occasion like this might call for cigars, although TMZ reported that sales of Kim's sex tape have exploded since the news broke of her bundle of joy. I know, I know, I shouldn't bring up Momma Kim's checkered past, especially since Papa Kanye's poor judgement resulted in POTUS calling him a jackass, but what kind of world do we live in when having a generous backside and taping yourself in the most intimate of acts become bullet points on your resume? How do these "assets" (is that too cheeky??) become the building blocks for a career in fashion and fragrance? And why am I supposed to celebrate that this not-yet-divorced woman and her lover/boyfriend are having unprotected sexual relations?
Now there are people who will wag their finger and say, "stop picking on Kim! That's her business!" And they're right, it is her business unless she tells the world and cashes in on it, which seems to be the plan. There are alleged offers already on the table for the first baby pictures, and discussions have begun in the entertainment press as to when the Golden Child will make his/her first appearance on the various televised Kardashian enterprises. Maybe Kim and her new Plus One will do a Sketchers commercial with a Mommy and Me spin to it! Or what about Kim K.'s Maternity Spanx for those third trimester struts down the red carpet. And what about in-utero hair extensions for that fetus who always wants to be camera-ready, even during gestation?
I'm sure the other famous fetuses out there are already feeling the pressure to outperform Baby Kimye. But embryo envy is ugly, and unnecessary. So listen up Baby Jessica Simpson and Fetus of Cambridge, let Baby Kimye have the spotlight, and you two just sit back and relax. After all, you don't want to risk a run-in with Grandma Kris!
Now there are people who will wag their finger and say, "stop picking on Kim! That's her business!" And they're right, it is her business unless she tells the world and cashes in on it, which seems to be the plan. There are alleged offers already on the table for the first baby pictures, and discussions have begun in the entertainment press as to when the Golden Child will make his/her first appearance on the various televised Kardashian enterprises. Maybe Kim and her new Plus One will do a Sketchers commercial with a Mommy and Me spin to it! Or what about Kim K.'s Maternity Spanx for those third trimester struts down the red carpet. And what about in-utero hair extensions for that fetus who always wants to be camera-ready, even during gestation?
I'm sure the other famous fetuses out there are already feeling the pressure to outperform Baby Kimye. But embryo envy is ugly, and unnecessary. So listen up Baby Jessica Simpson and Fetus of Cambridge, let Baby Kimye have the spotlight, and you two just sit back and relax. After all, you don't want to risk a run-in with Grandma Kris!
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Oprah Ending - Ending Oprah
It's the end of the world - well, sort of. This week, Oprah ends her daytime reign. She's hanging up her microphone and putting her set in mothballs, and the whole world, it seems, is in a tizzy. Her celebrity BFFs seem to be taking it the hardest of all. Watching their tearful two-part tribute to Oprah, a cavalcade of famous people, including Tyler Perry, and First Friend Gayle King gushed over Oprah, praising her success and her generosity of spirit.
And it's only fair that they, the celebrities, should make such a fuss over the woman who, in many cases, saved or revived their careers. It was Oprah who helped to make these often vapid, one-dimensional characters into fleshed out human beings who are just like you and me - save for the ridiculous amounts of money and fame. She was their Mother-Confessor who granted forgiveness in her Harpo Studios confessional. When Julia Roberts needed to clear the air over her failed marriage(s) and the sordid romantic triangle that became the basis for her current wedded bliss, it was to Oprah she went. When TV mom Meredith Baxter needed to tell her story of marital abuse, it was to the loving arms of Oprah that she flew. When Tom Cruise wanted to let the world know that he wasn't crazy and was, in fact, just a regular guy, head-over-heels in love with little Katie Holmes, Oprah's was the only couch worthy of his now infamous sofa jump.
With Leno and Letterman and Kimmel and Conan on the air, you'd think that Oprah would be rendered unnecessary, but you'd be wrong. Oprah created her own little universe, complete with its own jewel-toned palette of smartly-dressed, enthusiastic audience members who provided a backdrop for the spinning of celebrity tales of hurting and healing. To be a celebrity guest on Oprah meant a rigorous course in Oprah-ese, a language built on new-age, therapeutic discourse where people "named their truth," and had frequent "a-ha moments".
Now, that's not to say that your celebrity appearance was strictly about your own personal "journey" - no, there was always room for marketing, like those times when the entire casts of the latest Tyler Perry movie would take the stage.
I know, it may seem as if I'm not sad about her departure, and, in fact, I'm not. But it's not due to personal animus - it's just time. I don't need Oprah to tell me how much celebrities are just like me and you because, guess what, they're not. They live in a highly-competitive environment of constant scrutiny and little privacy, all fearing that "the next big thing" will end their careers. Where newspapers and blog sites have huge, blaring headlines about their 10-pound weight gain or their thinning hair. That Oprah, herself, is one of these celebrities isn't lost on me. Her interviews with these celebrities have seemed more like highly choreographed conversations between friends, and so there's no danger, really. And maybe that's why Oprah's ending it. Maybe, she had her own Oprah "a-ha moment" and realized that if you can get a President elected, you don't need to sit down with yet another celebrity to hawk their tell-all book...I'm just saying:)
And it's only fair that they, the celebrities, should make such a fuss over the woman who, in many cases, saved or revived their careers. It was Oprah who helped to make these often vapid, one-dimensional characters into fleshed out human beings who are just like you and me - save for the ridiculous amounts of money and fame. She was their Mother-Confessor who granted forgiveness in her Harpo Studios confessional. When Julia Roberts needed to clear the air over her failed marriage(s) and the sordid romantic triangle that became the basis for her current wedded bliss, it was to Oprah she went. When TV mom Meredith Baxter needed to tell her story of marital abuse, it was to the loving arms of Oprah that she flew. When Tom Cruise wanted to let the world know that he wasn't crazy and was, in fact, just a regular guy, head-over-heels in love with little Katie Holmes, Oprah's was the only couch worthy of his now infamous sofa jump.
With Leno and Letterman and Kimmel and Conan on the air, you'd think that Oprah would be rendered unnecessary, but you'd be wrong. Oprah created her own little universe, complete with its own jewel-toned palette of smartly-dressed, enthusiastic audience members who provided a backdrop for the spinning of celebrity tales of hurting and healing. To be a celebrity guest on Oprah meant a rigorous course in Oprah-ese, a language built on new-age, therapeutic discourse where people "named their truth," and had frequent "a-ha moments".
Now, that's not to say that your celebrity appearance was strictly about your own personal "journey" - no, there was always room for marketing, like those times when the entire casts of the latest Tyler Perry movie would take the stage.
I know, it may seem as if I'm not sad about her departure, and, in fact, I'm not. But it's not due to personal animus - it's just time. I don't need Oprah to tell me how much celebrities are just like me and you because, guess what, they're not. They live in a highly-competitive environment of constant scrutiny and little privacy, all fearing that "the next big thing" will end their careers. Where newspapers and blog sites have huge, blaring headlines about their 10-pound weight gain or their thinning hair. That Oprah, herself, is one of these celebrities isn't lost on me. Her interviews with these celebrities have seemed more like highly choreographed conversations between friends, and so there's no danger, really. And maybe that's why Oprah's ending it. Maybe, she had her own Oprah "a-ha moment" and realized that if you can get a President elected, you don't need to sit down with yet another celebrity to hawk their tell-all book...I'm just saying:)
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Putting the "Real" in Reality
With the announcement of the new cast of "Dancing with the Stars" (Wendy Williams - how YOU doin'??) and the introduction of yet another set of plump-lipped, tacky tarts clawing at each other in the "Real Housewives" franchise, it's clear that the Spring 2011 Reality TV season is upon us. And, like the award season that has just ended, capped by last week's Academy Awards, there will be some clear winners and losers in some of the more anticipated contests - will Ne Ne reign down blows on Star Jones in "Celebrity Apprentice?" And which of the returning baddies will be the last one standing on Survivor: Redemption Island?" But there's one reality show that tops them all and it stars Charlie Sheen, his Goddesses, his ex-wife, and his two adorable sons.
Perhaps you've seen it - on "Extra", or "Entertainment Tonight", or E!News or "The Today Show", ad nauseum and ad infinitum! The Charlie Sheen show is the hottest ticket in town, it seems, and everyone in the media has a finger in this poison pie. From his off-kilter Tweets to his intimate and sprawling 2-part interview with "The Today Show", Sheen has put the "real" back into Reality TV, with the reporters happily joining in for their 15 minutes! The interviews on "The Today Show" were some of the worst, with the reporter treating this like high camp, instead of a person's mental illness on public display. Sheen himself seemed to be in on the joke, too, smirking and grimacing with perfect comedic timing. Every now and again he'd put on the "reasonable man" voice, you know, the one you use in a sitcom when you're about to reveal something serious and weighty, only to be followed by a zinger that sends the studio audience into fits of laughter - and scene!
Only, this isn't a sitcom, where, in the span of 24 minutes, problems will be solved and then the credits roll. A line has been crossed. Hell, I wouldn't be the first to accuse an actor of being delusional, of making a character that he plays a part of his actual identity. And some actors will readily admit that they share lots of qualities with their on-screen alter-egos. Friends of the late Heath Ledger spoke of the extreme emotional demands that he faced when he portrayed the maniacal, murderous Joker in "The Dark Night". It seemed that the fragile line between real and unreal eroded to a point that it caused distress in the late actor.
So what does that mean for the Sheen Machine? Well, it could mean that he's taken on the persona of the glib, womanizing man he portrays on "Two and a Half Men" in some sort of Vulcan mind-meld. He has, literally, become the character. But some would argue that the character he plays on television is loosely based on the reality of Sheen's own indiscreet past. So, then, which Charlie Sheen is the REAL Charlie Sheen? Wow, I'm having one of those Absurdist Ionesco moments, again! I'm just saying:)
Perhaps you've seen it - on "Extra", or "Entertainment Tonight", or E!News or "The Today Show", ad nauseum and ad infinitum! The Charlie Sheen show is the hottest ticket in town, it seems, and everyone in the media has a finger in this poison pie. From his off-kilter Tweets to his intimate and sprawling 2-part interview with "The Today Show", Sheen has put the "real" back into Reality TV, with the reporters happily joining in for their 15 minutes! The interviews on "The Today Show" were some of the worst, with the reporter treating this like high camp, instead of a person's mental illness on public display. Sheen himself seemed to be in on the joke, too, smirking and grimacing with perfect comedic timing. Every now and again he'd put on the "reasonable man" voice, you know, the one you use in a sitcom when you're about to reveal something serious and weighty, only to be followed by a zinger that sends the studio audience into fits of laughter - and scene!
Only, this isn't a sitcom, where, in the span of 24 minutes, problems will be solved and then the credits roll. A line has been crossed. Hell, I wouldn't be the first to accuse an actor of being delusional, of making a character that he plays a part of his actual identity. And some actors will readily admit that they share lots of qualities with their on-screen alter-egos. Friends of the late Heath Ledger spoke of the extreme emotional demands that he faced when he portrayed the maniacal, murderous Joker in "The Dark Night". It seemed that the fragile line between real and unreal eroded to a point that it caused distress in the late actor.
So what does that mean for the Sheen Machine? Well, it could mean that he's taken on the persona of the glib, womanizing man he portrays on "Two and a Half Men" in some sort of Vulcan mind-meld. He has, literally, become the character. But some would argue that the character he plays on television is loosely based on the reality of Sheen's own indiscreet past. So, then, which Charlie Sheen is the REAL Charlie Sheen? Wow, I'm having one of those Absurdist Ionesco moments, again! I'm just saying:)
Monday, February 28, 2011
Oscar Night: Not with a Bang, But a Whimper
So the big night came and all of the questions that have plagued us for lo these many months can finally be put to bed: Will James Franco and Anne Hathaway pull an Oscar host fail? What will Nicole/Halle/Natalie wear? Who will curse during their acceptance speech? Will Ricky Gervais sneak into the Kodak Theatre and somehow upset this Night of Nights? And will Mr. Darcy - oops, sorry, Colin Firth win an Oscar for playing Queen Elizabeth's dad?
The Red Carpet
There's no way to begin an Oscar's de-brief without talking about the fashion show that precedes the proceedings, so here we go. We'll start with the A-team. Natalie Portman, who is now more famous for being pregnant than for acting, arrived at the end of the red carpet in a flowy, purple gown. Her hair in soft, side-swept waves, and her jewelry, demure and perfect. She looked pretty as a picture, which was pretty much what everyone expected, so let's move on.
Nicole Kidman arrived with her tiny Aussie hubby, Keith Urban, and a white dress that looked like it was having an identity crisis - a beautiful, strapless gown on top, and a kimono on the bottom. The red shoes didn't help, and that sad, skinny ponytail was the icing on top of this weird little fashion moment. Jennifer Hudson looked va-va-voom in Versace! There was a sweet moment between her and Ryan Seacrest as she recounted how only a few years ago, they had been together at the Kodak for American Idol. That she was able to reflect on just how fortunate she has been, even in the frenzy of camera flashes and double-sided sticky tape, just made me even more happy for this amazing, talented young lady. Halle Berry, after all of the tsuris with her tangled custody battle with her baby daddy, looked beautiful, as always. Nothing to see here!
And then there was Sharon Stone. That's right, in one of those wacky, "what the hell is SHE doing here moments", there she was, strutting her stuff on the red carpet with some big hair and that Cheshire cat grin. She looked great and it's clear that Helen Mirren must have taken her aside and told her to cut the crazy and celebrate looking amazing, no matter her age! Thanks Helen, and, by the way, you looked, as one commentator said, "bangin'".
I saw great short hair on the red carpet, and it was refreshing. Helen Mirren had a fantastic close cropped cut that could go from soft to bad ass. Cate Blanchett wore a short bob with some subtle layering that was fresh and sophisticated. It was a great compliment to her rather complicated dress - a Givenchy Couture number that looked like a Grecian column dress with a breast plate fastened to it.
The Hosts
When it was announced that James Franco and Anne Hathaway would be sharing hosting duties for this year's Oscar's, I cringed. Franco is a bit creepy. He's all over the place, making headlines for what could be interpreted as extreme multi-tasking or an identity crisis. Currently, Franco is directing a movie, starring on General Hospital, completing a degree at NYU, opening a bar, and preparing for a movie role. Anne Hathaway is like a Disney heroine come to life, with her large, wide open eyes, wide ever-smiling mouth, and a gawky, "aw shucks" posture. So of course it makes perfect sense to throw these two together to host the Oscars!
The evening began with a pre-recorded piece, using the concept of Chris Nolan's genius film, "Inception", and including Morgan Freeman and Alec Baldwin, who, along with Steve Martin, delivered one of the best Oscars I'd seen in a while when they teamed up last year. But, alas, a little bit of Alec was all we got. Throughout the evening, and the numerous and unnecessary costume changes by Ms. Hathaway, they taunted us with glimpses of hosts that we'd rather have. Late in the broadcast, out came Billy Crystal, the man whose hosted the Oscars eight times. I thought Uncle Billy was brought in to save us, but he was only a tease - he was there to pay homage to another great Oscar host, Bob Hope, so it was like a tease within a tease!
Bummer:(
The Awards
Let's face it, British people give the best awards speeches, hands down! "The King's Speech" director Tom Hooper was funny, eloquent, and he brought the whole, "thanks mom" to a whole other level, by giving her full credit for finding him the script that would become his Oscar opportunity. Colin Firth added a layer of introspection to his acceptance speech, wondering, aloud, if his career had peaked with his Oscar win. And then there was Melissa Leo with an acceptance speech for her best supporting actress win that would have made Dog the Bounty Hunter blush. Her meandering, expletive-laden rant took us all on a guided tour of Crazy Town! It was a pity-inducing moment - I felt more sorry for her than I did the frail Kirk Douglas who presented the award, at least he's still got timing and panache!! And when she hip-checked Kirk Douglas as she was exiting from the stage, attempting to make light of her befuddlement by grabbing his cane and feigning a hip injury, well that was just too much! This is why actors need writers, my friends.
One of my favorite segments is the In Memoriam tribute, but I was disappointed that they took my lovely Celine Dion and suppressed her vocal fire power in the service of that old chestnut, "Smile". I hated that that song was resurrected for Michael Jackson's memorial service, and I hate it even more now. Celine Dion having to sing that schlock is the musical equivalent of putting Baby in the corner, and NOBODY puts Baby in the corner!
All in all, the show was alright. Even though my beloved Chris Nolan was overlooked for "Inception", and what's with that guy from Nine Inch Nails winning best soundtrack over Hans Zimmer??? Ah well, I guess that's a wrap! I'm just saying:)
The Red Carpet
There's no way to begin an Oscar's de-brief without talking about the fashion show that precedes the proceedings, so here we go. We'll start with the A-team. Natalie Portman, who is now more famous for being pregnant than for acting, arrived at the end of the red carpet in a flowy, purple gown. Her hair in soft, side-swept waves, and her jewelry, demure and perfect. She looked pretty as a picture, which was pretty much what everyone expected, so let's move on.
Nicole Kidman arrived with her tiny Aussie hubby, Keith Urban, and a white dress that looked like it was having an identity crisis - a beautiful, strapless gown on top, and a kimono on the bottom. The red shoes didn't help, and that sad, skinny ponytail was the icing on top of this weird little fashion moment. Jennifer Hudson looked va-va-voom in Versace! There was a sweet moment between her and Ryan Seacrest as she recounted how only a few years ago, they had been together at the Kodak for American Idol. That she was able to reflect on just how fortunate she has been, even in the frenzy of camera flashes and double-sided sticky tape, just made me even more happy for this amazing, talented young lady. Halle Berry, after all of the tsuris with her tangled custody battle with her baby daddy, looked beautiful, as always. Nothing to see here!
And then there was Sharon Stone. That's right, in one of those wacky, "what the hell is SHE doing here moments", there she was, strutting her stuff on the red carpet with some big hair and that Cheshire cat grin. She looked great and it's clear that Helen Mirren must have taken her aside and told her to cut the crazy and celebrate looking amazing, no matter her age! Thanks Helen, and, by the way, you looked, as one commentator said, "bangin'".
I saw great short hair on the red carpet, and it was refreshing. Helen Mirren had a fantastic close cropped cut that could go from soft to bad ass. Cate Blanchett wore a short bob with some subtle layering that was fresh and sophisticated. It was a great compliment to her rather complicated dress - a Givenchy Couture number that looked like a Grecian column dress with a breast plate fastened to it.
The Hosts
When it was announced that James Franco and Anne Hathaway would be sharing hosting duties for this year's Oscar's, I cringed. Franco is a bit creepy. He's all over the place, making headlines for what could be interpreted as extreme multi-tasking or an identity crisis. Currently, Franco is directing a movie, starring on General Hospital, completing a degree at NYU, opening a bar, and preparing for a movie role. Anne Hathaway is like a Disney heroine come to life, with her large, wide open eyes, wide ever-smiling mouth, and a gawky, "aw shucks" posture. So of course it makes perfect sense to throw these two together to host the Oscars!
The evening began with a pre-recorded piece, using the concept of Chris Nolan's genius film, "Inception", and including Morgan Freeman and Alec Baldwin, who, along with Steve Martin, delivered one of the best Oscars I'd seen in a while when they teamed up last year. But, alas, a little bit of Alec was all we got. Throughout the evening, and the numerous and unnecessary costume changes by Ms. Hathaway, they taunted us with glimpses of hosts that we'd rather have. Late in the broadcast, out came Billy Crystal, the man whose hosted the Oscars eight times. I thought Uncle Billy was brought in to save us, but he was only a tease - he was there to pay homage to another great Oscar host, Bob Hope, so it was like a tease within a tease!
Bummer:(
The Awards
Let's face it, British people give the best awards speeches, hands down! "The King's Speech" director Tom Hooper was funny, eloquent, and he brought the whole, "thanks mom" to a whole other level, by giving her full credit for finding him the script that would become his Oscar opportunity. Colin Firth added a layer of introspection to his acceptance speech, wondering, aloud, if his career had peaked with his Oscar win. And then there was Melissa Leo with an acceptance speech for her best supporting actress win that would have made Dog the Bounty Hunter blush. Her meandering, expletive-laden rant took us all on a guided tour of Crazy Town! It was a pity-inducing moment - I felt more sorry for her than I did the frail Kirk Douglas who presented the award, at least he's still got timing and panache!! And when she hip-checked Kirk Douglas as she was exiting from the stage, attempting to make light of her befuddlement by grabbing his cane and feigning a hip injury, well that was just too much! This is why actors need writers, my friends.
One of my favorite segments is the In Memoriam tribute, but I was disappointed that they took my lovely Celine Dion and suppressed her vocal fire power in the service of that old chestnut, "Smile". I hated that that song was resurrected for Michael Jackson's memorial service, and I hate it even more now. Celine Dion having to sing that schlock is the musical equivalent of putting Baby in the corner, and NOBODY puts Baby in the corner!
All in all, the show was alright. Even though my beloved Chris Nolan was overlooked for "Inception", and what's with that guy from Nine Inch Nails winning best soundtrack over Hans Zimmer??? Ah well, I guess that's a wrap! I'm just saying:)
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Black and White: Halle Berry's Baby Daddy Drama
In recent weeks, one of the stories that's wound its way through several news cycles has been the on-again/off-again custody battle between actress Halle Berry and her baby daddy, Canadian model Gabriel Aubry. The former couple's back and forth has included allegations of evil diva-like behavior on the part of Berry, as well as an alleged pattern of verbal abuse on the part of Aubry. And it's the nature of Aubry's insults that are proving to be most disturbing, as it's been alleged that certain of his statements were overtly racist. That Aubry is white and Berry is black had been of little consequence during their relationship. As they appeared, hand in hand, on red carpets and awards shows, the world wondered how Aubry got so lucky to be with one of the world's most beautiful women.
When Berry became pregnant with Aubry's child, speculation swirled around when she would make a trip down the aisle to become a Mrs., oh, and what designer would sew her a perfect wedding day frock! Their break-up, then, though sad, was, in the world of Hollywood stylists, agents, and weekend grosses, the normal narrative for a super-sexy, talented and in-demand actress involved with a younger guy who was less established and less successful. Their break-up was announced by the usual and customary news release from their publicist, but what's followed hasn't been the norm. Aubry sued Berry for custody of their daughter, siting Berry's frequent travel as a factor, and Berry battled back, accusing Aubry of expressing rage when their bi-racial daughter was referred to as black. True or not, all of this is so ugly and deeply disappointing.
In 2011, interracial relationships would seem to be no more worthy of extra attention than men with pierced ears or women wearing pants suits. U.S. Census data tells the story. Prior to 1960, less than 1% of all marriages in the United States were interracial, but according to the 2003-2006 Current Population Survey data, 25% of unmarried couples living together were interracial. The Gallup Poll has been asking the question of Americans' approval of black and white intermarriage since 1958. That first poll showed that only 4% of Americans approved of interracial marriage between blacks and whites, but by September of 2007, the approval rate was 79%. That a certain U.S. Senator from Chicago of mixed-race heritage was running for the highest elective office in the land in 2007 may have had something to do with that September poll, but that's a discussion for another time.
But, are we as comfortable with interracial relationships as we claim we are? Michael Jackson may have sung that it doesn't matter if you're black or white, and Stevie Wonder and Sir Paul may have swayed to "Ebony and Ivory living in perfect harmony," but those were songs, what happens in reality? For every Heidi Klum and Seal, there's someone uncomfortable with their color-blind kind of love. While teens of different races may hang out together, eat together, and even sexually experiment with each other, they may do so with their racist attitudes intact. College - that great melting pot of higher education - encourages students to sample everything, and everyone. But some indulge while remaining fixed on their own narrow ideas about race.
Halle's story is a caution to us all. She may have had the handsome hunk that everyone wanted, and Aubry may have bagged the sexy Hollywood actress, but once you strip away the veneer, this black woman and this white man have to face who they are, and be something better. I guess that's the challenge and the gift of any relationship, black or white! I'm just saying:)
When Berry became pregnant with Aubry's child, speculation swirled around when she would make a trip down the aisle to become a Mrs., oh, and what designer would sew her a perfect wedding day frock! Their break-up, then, though sad, was, in the world of Hollywood stylists, agents, and weekend grosses, the normal narrative for a super-sexy, talented and in-demand actress involved with a younger guy who was less established and less successful. Their break-up was announced by the usual and customary news release from their publicist, but what's followed hasn't been the norm. Aubry sued Berry for custody of their daughter, siting Berry's frequent travel as a factor, and Berry battled back, accusing Aubry of expressing rage when their bi-racial daughter was referred to as black. True or not, all of this is so ugly and deeply disappointing.
In 2011, interracial relationships would seem to be no more worthy of extra attention than men with pierced ears or women wearing pants suits. U.S. Census data tells the story. Prior to 1960, less than 1% of all marriages in the United States were interracial, but according to the 2003-2006 Current Population Survey data, 25% of unmarried couples living together were interracial. The Gallup Poll has been asking the question of Americans' approval of black and white intermarriage since 1958. That first poll showed that only 4% of Americans approved of interracial marriage between blacks and whites, but by September of 2007, the approval rate was 79%. That a certain U.S. Senator from Chicago of mixed-race heritage was running for the highest elective office in the land in 2007 may have had something to do with that September poll, but that's a discussion for another time.
But, are we as comfortable with interracial relationships as we claim we are? Michael Jackson may have sung that it doesn't matter if you're black or white, and Stevie Wonder and Sir Paul may have swayed to "Ebony and Ivory living in perfect harmony," but those were songs, what happens in reality? For every Heidi Klum and Seal, there's someone uncomfortable with their color-blind kind of love. While teens of different races may hang out together, eat together, and even sexually experiment with each other, they may do so with their racist attitudes intact. College - that great melting pot of higher education - encourages students to sample everything, and everyone. But some indulge while remaining fixed on their own narrow ideas about race.
Halle's story is a caution to us all. She may have had the handsome hunk that everyone wanted, and Aubry may have bagged the sexy Hollywood actress, but once you strip away the veneer, this black woman and this white man have to face who they are, and be something better. I guess that's the challenge and the gift of any relationship, black or white! I'm just saying:)
Friday, February 18, 2011
You Get Paid for That?? Or, Why Snooki Makes More than your Kid's Teacher!
It was recently revealed that the Kardashian family pulled in $65 million in 2010. How did they do it? Well, it wasn't from some unbelievable world-saving scientific breakthrough; rather it was from their stable of reality shows, music singles, personal appearances, selling photos of their weddings and babies to the tabloids, writing a book, sending Tweets, hawking perfumes, and fashion lines. Think about it - one of the Kardashians sold her wedding pictures to a tabloid for $300K - that's one HELL of a cake cutting! If you want to have a Kardashian show up at your next party, you'd better get out your checkbook because it can cost you as much as $100K domestic and $1 million if your Kardashian must fly outside of the United States. And while you're sitting there on Twitter giving it away, Kim Kardashian is earning $25,000 for tweets that endorse certain products.
But the insanity doesn't end there! The cast of MTV's "Jersey Shore" successfully negotiated a per episode salary increase from $10,000 to $30,000. That should keep The Situation in fake-bake and hair gel for the next decade! In addition, Snooki - the pickle-chomping grande dame of the Jersey Shore, has written a book and has launched a line of house slippers so that you, too, may live la vida Snooki.
I hate to sound like a ticked off Jan Brady, but it's just not fair! It seems like there's an epidemic of people getting something for nothing - and by "something", I mean money; and by "nothing", I mean to say their lack of talent. It would seem that an indicator for future success isn't good grades in school and a good work ethic - rather, it's the ability to get hold of a video camera and do unspeakable things in front of it. Let's call it the Paris Effect, after the now 30-year old little rich girl who made a career out of being tacky, slutty, and any other "-y" that you can cause a bad taste in your mouth. No pun intended!
Paris Hilton is frightening. Think about it: she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, educated in the finest schools, given every advantage in her life and instead of working in the family business or joining the Peace Corps, she decides to strike out and make a name for herself by being a tramp! She created the blueprint for the legions of Kim Kardashians, Snookis, and others who will surely follow. Paris' "empire" (that's what she calls it) includes a stable of fragrances for men and women, and now an iPhone app. Somewhere, Monica Lewinsky must be kicking herself for stopping at handbags!
I guess now is the time that I'm supposed to put all of this into perspective, showing how vapid and empty the lives of these minor celebs must be. And I'll do that - eventually. For now, I'm just going to hurl myself onto my bed, legs kicking, and fists pounding the mattress, frustrated by the unfairness of it all. Where is that video camera?? I'm just saying:)
But the insanity doesn't end there! The cast of MTV's "Jersey Shore" successfully negotiated a per episode salary increase from $10,000 to $30,000. That should keep The Situation in fake-bake and hair gel for the next decade! In addition, Snooki - the pickle-chomping grande dame of the Jersey Shore, has written a book and has launched a line of house slippers so that you, too, may live la vida Snooki.
I hate to sound like a ticked off Jan Brady, but it's just not fair! It seems like there's an epidemic of people getting something for nothing - and by "something", I mean money; and by "nothing", I mean to say their lack of talent. It would seem that an indicator for future success isn't good grades in school and a good work ethic - rather, it's the ability to get hold of a video camera and do unspeakable things in front of it. Let's call it the Paris Effect, after the now 30-year old little rich girl who made a career out of being tacky, slutty, and any other "-y" that you can cause a bad taste in your mouth. No pun intended!
Paris Hilton is frightening. Think about it: she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, educated in the finest schools, given every advantage in her life and instead of working in the family business or joining the Peace Corps, she decides to strike out and make a name for herself by being a tramp! She created the blueprint for the legions of Kim Kardashians, Snookis, and others who will surely follow. Paris' "empire" (that's what she calls it) includes a stable of fragrances for men and women, and now an iPhone app. Somewhere, Monica Lewinsky must be kicking herself for stopping at handbags!
I guess now is the time that I'm supposed to put all of this into perspective, showing how vapid and empty the lives of these minor celebs must be. And I'll do that - eventually. For now, I'm just going to hurl myself onto my bed, legs kicking, and fists pounding the mattress, frustrated by the unfairness of it all. Where is that video camera?? I'm just saying:)
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Congratulations, You're One of US Now!
When a newly-slim Ricky Gervais took to the stage on Sunday night's Golden Globes telecast, he gave new meaning to the phrase, "lean and mean." To be fair, Gervais has always packed a nasty bite. The characters that he played in his mocumentaries, "The Office" and "Extras", were pathetic everymen whose fleshy outsides held a bottomless pit of inner-loathing that extended to everyone they encountered. And if his contempt for his fellow man was detectable, then his offense at the cult of celebrity was at fever pitch. In "The Office", his inept, blundering alter-ego - the fictional David Brent - had dreams of celebrity that far exceeded his talents. With "Extras", Gervais inhabited another celebrity-seeking character, Andy Millman, a "background actor" who, in between takes, nursed an out sized ego and dreams of coming out of the cast of extras and into the lead. In the series, Millman gets a taste of the fame and celebrity he's long sought, only it's as an appalling, dim plant manager sporting late-1980s Elton John eyeglass frames and a fright wig in a broadly-written comedic series in the "Our You Being Served" vain. For Andy Millman, even fame and celebrity don't bring him the joy and respect he'd hope they would.
For Ricky Gervais, maybe life and art have fused together to form a reality where neither Gervais nor the fictions that he creates for himself are very happy. It's easy to see, then, why his verbal jabs at the other celebrities in the room Sunday night were so vicious. At the outset of the evening, as he sauntered on-stage with his ever-ready pint of ale in hand, he spoke these words, "I warned 'em." But, maybe, now it's time for someone to tap Ricky on the shoulder and let him know that he is now, officially, "one of 'em" himself.
I'm just saying!
For Ricky Gervais, maybe life and art have fused together to form a reality where neither Gervais nor the fictions that he creates for himself are very happy. It's easy to see, then, why his verbal jabs at the other celebrities in the room Sunday night were so vicious. At the outset of the evening, as he sauntered on-stage with his ever-ready pint of ale in hand, he spoke these words, "I warned 'em." But, maybe, now it's time for someone to tap Ricky on the shoulder and let him know that he is now, officially, "one of 'em" himself.
I'm just saying!
Friday, December 31, 2010
2010 - Good Riddance!
Before you break out the collard greens, black eyed peas, and steak, and strike up the band to sing, "Auld lang syne," it's time to wrap up 2010 in true I'm Just Saying style with the list of things we'd love to bid a not-so-fond farewell to. Here we go:
Happy New Year and welcome 2011!!
I'm Just Saying:)
- Lady Gaga - take your cold cuts and get thee gone!
- Vampires
- Jeggings
- Late night TV talk show host feuds
- Teen pregnancy as a stepping stone to celebrity and fame
- Extreme airport frisking that becomes frisky
- Justin Bieber haircuts on anyone not named Justin Bieber
- Disney teen idols checking into rehab
- Disney teen idols taking hits of questionable substances
- Glee
- Matthew Morrison from Glee
- Jack Black
- Johnny Depp in EVERYTHING
- Minute to Win It
- Ace of Cakes
- Hoodies on men aged 50 and over (unless you're actually doing an outdoor sport)
- The term cougar
- Black Eyed Peas - Take your Dirty Bits and leave the Dirty Dancing alone, thank you!
- Vodka made by rap stars
- Jessica Simpson
- Celebrity couples starring in reality shows about their married life
- The Kardashians
- "Leaked" sex tapes
- John Mayer as romantic Lothario (real gentlemen don't put their ladies' business in the street, or on the Tweet!)
- Ignorance
- Calling women past the age of 30, "girls"
- Bro/brother as term of affection
- Bromance to describe said affection
- American actors with pretentious/odd Euro-Brit accents
- Team [fill in name here] - this includes Team Jill, Team NeNe, etc.
- Texting while driving
- Texting while walking
- Botox parties
- Tyler Perry EVERYWHERE and in EVERYTHING
- Professional athletes cheating on their spouses
- Dudamel as classical music's savior - he's just one guy so give him a break, already!
- Susan Boyle
- Commercials with defecating cartoon bears
- Baby diapers and training pants that look like blue jeans
- Ke$ha
- The Jersey Shore (the show, of course!! Jersey Shore the place - I got nothing but love for you:)
- Sexting
- Saturday Night Live's Fred Armisen as President Obama
- LOL!
- Kanye West
- Adoration of the 1980s
- Game night
- Celebrity chefs
- Bullying
- Blaming everyone without doing anything! - You can't wait around for Brad and Angelina to save the world for you!!
Happy New Year and welcome 2011!!
I'm Just Saying:)
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Marriage Ain't Pretty!
So you all may have heard the news about the earth-shaking break-up of Ryan Reynolds and ScarJo. Ryan Reynolds, he of the adorable, slightly sexy goofball set, and Scarlett Johansson just announced yesterday that their marriage of two years was ending. The fact that two popular Hollywood actors had a marriage that lasted beyond two days may seem miraculous to most. And, given that Hollywood is a place run by the Pretty People and for the Pretty People, it's little wonder why that Seven Year Itch is on a more accelerated timetable and that People Magazine's Sexiest Man Alive and the sultry, raspy-voiced ScarJo couldn't make a go of it.
Think about all of the Pretty People - Eva and Tony, Madonna and Guy/Jesus/etc., Reese and El Phillippe, Brad and Jen. Marriage is hard for these people. Forever and "til death us do part" have to be difficult concepts in a business where your shelf life can be suddenly shortened by the next big thing. They have the big wedding and the photo spread in InStyle and what are they left with? Marriage.
Headlines are written everyday about steamy on-set romances, nasty divorces, and elaborate budget-busting weddings, but there's never an US Weekly cover that trumpets "Hollywood couple celebrates 15 years of being committed to the everyday of their marriages." I take that back - you do see occasional articles on the art of the Hollywood marriage, usually as a PR dodge to cover up a crumbling union.
So why should we care? Because just as Hollywood influences the clothes that we wear, and the homes that we live in, the Hollywood marriage, that begins with lavish fanfare and limps along to a quick finish (but before the exclusive wedding photos are sold), has increasingly become the model for the Everyman marriage. Shows like Bridezillas and now, the awesomely awful Bridalplasty, give us a glimpse of the Not So Pretty People stepping up for their 15 minutes.
So here's my advice: Pretty People please stop calling what you do a "marriage" if you don't want to do the work. Take a page from the book of Prince William and his bride-to-be who are undergoing pre-marital counseling. That's right - Pretty People acting like Ordinary People. Or Brad and Angelina who, without branding their union a "marriage", have all of the elements of a family, but set against exotic climes and international backdrops and private jets.
In short, stop monkeying around with marriage. You want to wear a big dress and have scads of photos taken of you? Then get yourself booked into a Vogue or W Mag photo shoot the way that God intended!
I'm just saying:)
Think about all of the Pretty People - Eva and Tony, Madonna and Guy/Jesus/etc., Reese and El Phillippe, Brad and Jen. Marriage is hard for these people. Forever and "til death us do part" have to be difficult concepts in a business where your shelf life can be suddenly shortened by the next big thing. They have the big wedding and the photo spread in InStyle and what are they left with? Marriage.
Headlines are written everyday about steamy on-set romances, nasty divorces, and elaborate budget-busting weddings, but there's never an US Weekly cover that trumpets "Hollywood couple celebrates 15 years of being committed to the everyday of their marriages." I take that back - you do see occasional articles on the art of the Hollywood marriage, usually as a PR dodge to cover up a crumbling union.
So why should we care? Because just as Hollywood influences the clothes that we wear, and the homes that we live in, the Hollywood marriage, that begins with lavish fanfare and limps along to a quick finish (but before the exclusive wedding photos are sold), has increasingly become the model for the Everyman marriage. Shows like Bridezillas and now, the awesomely awful Bridalplasty, give us a glimpse of the Not So Pretty People stepping up for their 15 minutes.
So here's my advice: Pretty People please stop calling what you do a "marriage" if you don't want to do the work. Take a page from the book of Prince William and his bride-to-be who are undergoing pre-marital counseling. That's right - Pretty People acting like Ordinary People. Or Brad and Angelina who, without branding their union a "marriage", have all of the elements of a family, but set against exotic climes and international backdrops and private jets.
In short, stop monkeying around with marriage. You want to wear a big dress and have scads of photos taken of you? Then get yourself booked into a Vogue or W Mag photo shoot the way that God intended!
I'm just saying:)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)