Collection of provocative profiles from Vanity Fair, showing those who’ve lived on Mars for the past ten years the power celebrities wield in America.
A sex scandal destroyed movie comic Fatty Arbuckle’s career in the 1920s; today it would make him bigger than ever. That’s essentially the conclusion Orth draws in her portraits of Madonna, Woody Allen, Michael Jackson, and others. The public’s appetite for celebrity news may go further back in time than the author acknowledges, but there’s no arguing with her statement that cable TV’s 24/7 reporting has turned the public into celebrity news bulimics. Just about anyone, Orth writes, can feed the media and become famous, whether or not they’re talented (to wit: Madonna). And someone famous can get away with just about anything (to wit: Woody Allen taking nude pictures of the adopted daughter he would eventually marry, or Michael Jackson dangling a baby from a hotel window). Orth also describes how Andrew Cunanan became the darkest of American celebrities when he shot and killed Gianni Versace and then himself. She builds a disturbing case for the influence of celebrity millions in political arenas as she reports on Bill Clinton’s presidential pardon of billionaire Marc Rich. Of course, Orth herself writes for a celebrity-driven publication, and these pieces will be read (with some guilt perhaps) by readers eager to scarf up crumbs about Liz and Liza. The author’s use of quotes from unnamed sources and her subjects’ former employees is journalistically questionable, but her details hit their marks, as in the profiles of deposed Maggie Thatcher and retired ballerina Margot Fonteyn. Dame Margot makes Orth nostalgic for the days when the famous were also talented.
A volume for those fed up with “news” about Oprah’s weight and the Bennifer breakup.