Today’s New York Magazine cover is graced by a nude version of none other than the media circus that is Lindsay Lohan.
That’s an interesting sentence, for two reasons. One, it didn’t end in “Britney Spears,” and two, it is somehow supposed to make you keep reading.
Across the desks of the Daily Bruin and newspapers around the country, writers are told that a lede should set forth all the information vital to the article, so that a reader knows what they are getting into.
And yet, at this point, the reader has no convincing reason to stick with this column, save for the not-so-casual celebrity name-drop (hardly a sound journalism tactic).
Somehow, however, that is the entire point: Lohan’s Marilyn Monroe”“inspired featured photo shoot should not be news. The struggling young lady would be best served by a life ignorant to the evils of gross mock-sensuality and saved from the addiction that is fame.
That is, the photo shoot is hardly remarkable by itself. It is a pasty, freckled, deathly version of the beauty goddess buried literally behind the AMC AVCO, not even a mile from UCLA.
Rather, it is much more important as an indicator of America’s five decade obsession with degradation ““ five decades of the wrong front page stories, of cheap fame and dangerous celebrity.
Bert Stern shot both the Lohan and Monroe sets, with the latter being photographed in June 1962, 46 years ago.
Monroe died of drug overdose six weeks later.
Today, Lohan has been linked to a veritable smorgasbord of drug abusing, oversexed and generally just struggling famous people.
Yet there are differences between the celebrity of old and that of today. Monroe may have been addicted to drugs, but she had also completed 33 films by her untimely death. Elvis may have been addicted to drugs, but he had also released 20 studio albums and acted in 31 films.
Monroe lived in a time when “heroin chic” was nonexistent. Drugs were certainly not unheard of in the 1950s and ’60s, but they were glossed over in the name of glamour or rock and roll. The distinction may seem trivial, but is actually key to an understanding of the downward spiral we’ve been in since her “Last Sitting Photoshoot” became an iconic image of her soon-to-end life: Monroe and her contemporaries were addicted to drugs because they were susceptible to the evils of fame ““ they weren’t famous because they were addicted to drugs.
Today, Lohan is an example of fame gained not through talent (although she is actually very good at what she does) but through the loss of talent at the hands of drugs and either chasing fame or failing to avoid it.
To her credit, Lohan has acted in 12 films. While it may be non sequitur to mention that her biggest hit did not exactly win any Oscar nods, it could easily be said that she has her best work ahead of her.
So why does the photo shoot, while getting 20 million page views a day on the magazine’s Web site, elicit such a negative, somber reaction?
Aside from the slightly harsh, questionable aesthetic of the pictures “”mdash; the New York Times described the magazine as “ask(ing) viewers to engage in a kind of mock necrophilia” “”mdash; there is something deeply untimely about the photos.
Given the recent passing of Heath Ledger, recalling a pill-popping sex symbol is a difficult editorial decision. Even more tasteless, however, is how the matter is treated in the article accompanying the photos.
After a brief discussion of Ledger and Monroe’s fates, Lohan, the three-time rehab resident, says, “I sure as hell wouldn’t let it happen to me.”
New York Magazine writer Amanda Fortini then makes this statement: “Still, one wonders whether Lohan’s participation in this project, given all the spooky parallels, isn’t the photographic equivalent of moving into a haunted house.”
Like the catchy lede, it is standard journalism practice not to foreshadow the death of your subject via prescription drugs.
Perhaps the most striking aspect of the entire piece is Lohan’s self-assertion attempt at the end: “Here is a woman who is giving herself to the public; she’s saying, “˜Look, you’ve taken a lot from me, so why don’t I give it to you myself.’ She’s taking control back.”
Maybe that day will come, when the Lohans and Monroes of this world are beautiful for who they are, not for how they fall apart. Until then, all we can do is hope and try to pass off tales of addiction as breaking news.
Saddened by the state of celebrity? E-mail Makarechi at kmak@media.ucla.edu. Send general comments to viewpoint@media.ucla.edu.