Tina Fey Wants It
The "Tina Fey backlash" sparked by Tiger Beatdown's Sady Doyle in a recent essay about which you all had a lot to say is apparently over. Or at least that's the verdict of New York, which cites an essay in Salon for the cessation of hostilities. (Follow all that?) I think the entire discussion was a rather interesting one, bringing up as it did the uncertainty that still surrounds elements of feminism and our as yet unresolved idea of a woman's role in this modern world. That said, my own issue with Tiny Fey is of a different variety: I have a problem with the way she pretends not to want it.
It, of course, is fame, and all the trappings with which that is accompanied. I should say at the outset that I think Tina Fey is quite funny, I believe that she puts together a remarkable show, and I'm pretty sure that if you want to have a smart, literate woman as an example that comedy is not simply something men do better you could do far worse in looking for a role model. (Cough* Chelsea Handler *Cough).
Still, watching her on "Saturday Night Live" last week and having read her interview in Esquire, it's completely clear that this is a woman who wants to be famous. You do not glam yourself up-or allow yourself to be glammed up-for "SNL" or "Letterman" or some magazine that has a running feature where an attractive model relays a funny joke without being completely complicit in a process whose goal is to increase your fame and advance whatever merchandise your are attempting to dispense.
Nor do I think that this is necessarily a bad thing. Or, at least, I don't think so anymore. Part of the disgust I believe that so many people felt at the dawn of the reality TV era came out of the blatant ambition of its participants to become famous, regardless of its origin or cause. And back then it probably was a little shocking to see that sheer desire displayed so nakedly, on such a grand scale, by so many people. But we don't live in that world anymore.
The desire for fame is, at root, a deeply adolescent desire, but in this world where "40 is the new 30" and every other age is adjusted backwards accordingly, we are pretty much all adolescents now. Is it really shocking that we continue to exhibit adolescent attitudes? Most of us, on some level, want to be famous. We can pretend that this isn't the case, and for some people that may even be true, but I'm pretty sure there's a little part of everyone, deep down, that craves the attention and adoration of others. Hell, I'm probably a little guilty of it myself; you think I'm writing lengthy, unfocused rants on the Internet for the excellent pay and health benefits?
I'm not going to judge anyone for wanting to be famous. I will, however, judge people for pretending that they don't. If you do the interviews, if you pose for the pictures, if you show up at the openings and sit in the green rooms and try to get yourself booked on the best programs, you are working for it. You want it. You can go on about how you aren't necessarily the best looking or the funniest and it's such a surprise when things go well, but you've been busting your ass to get there every day for years. This is no longer specifically about Tina Fey, but she is someone in particular-maybe I hold her to a higher standard-who seems to want to be famous but also wants the credit for seeming not to want to be famous. There's something about trying to have it both ways that seems a little galling. (There may also be some component to this where it is judged more harshly in women, but I have a penis so I'm not going to think too deeply about that.)
Anyway, Tina Fey is great. Tina Fey is famous, and she should be. She's worked hard for it. She shouldn't have to pretend she hasn't. There are worse things in life than losing your Cool Card. One of them is probably not having anyone ask to see it in the first place.
Yes but, is fame, or are fame-seeking behaviors, not also a by-product of being a successful professional actress/comedian? Fey might have wanted the cover of Esquire, but I bet 20th Century Fox wanted it more.
If Tina Fey is famous and only pretends not to want it, the only people that could conceivably bother are people who aren't famous and want it.
To the extent that we admit that Liz Lemon is autobiographical, Tina Fey admits this about herself — that she works her ass off, and always wanted to be as famous for performing as for writing. Of course on the show the gag is that Liz Lemon isn't (couldn't be?) famous for performing, is stuck in the writers' room, and is jealous of her old friend Jenna for getting to be in the spotlight. But the whole issue isn't unexamined.
Perhaps fame is like bottoming – you both want it AND really don't want it.
I suppose, in the same way, fame is much like topping as well.
Can we get a Conan backlash while we're at it?
"… and all of that jiving around."
She's been asking for it.
Look at how she's been dressing.
Is she really pretending not to want it though? I've never gotten that vibe from her.
oh, she's pretty big on the whole "hey, I'm a writer! I'm not pretty! I don't know how to dress!" etc. But frankly, if any of us smart/sensible people were to get accolades for what we do, wouldn't we be the same way? What's the alternative — go around talking about how awesome you are, and then get torn apart for doing so (like, I dunno.. Tyra Banks, not that they are in the same talent pool)?
I never really got that pretending not to want it vibe, either. I believe I read an interview with her where she said she wants to be a more "normal" kind of famous.
Though I fear and loathe people and rarely leave the house, I understand that a performer-type person might want to be famous while being wildly uncomfortable with what constitutes fame these days. I mean, if there are people who are both reasonable and extroverted to the extreme that they want 300 million people to know who they are [[shudder]], how could they not feel wildly ambivalent? This ambivalence is her schtick. It doesn't seem hypocritical to me because celebrity seems to have become a @#$%& nightmare.
I also have never seen her pretend not to want to be famous. If anything, she plays up how hard she has to work to achieve fame on her own terms. The 'not hot' card she often plays is a bit disingenuous, but a huge part of what makes her sexiness is the confident way she touts her brains and humor and personality. If she were to start cooing and pouting and bleaching her hair and slutting up her wardrobe and acting dumber than she is, in the manner of so many female stars, would she still be hot? I don't think so.
It isn't the pretending to not want fame part of her that bugs me – it's the pretending to not be attractive. Sure, she used to be frumpy when she was locked up in a windowless writers' room with a dozen guys but get over yourself, Tina, you're hot. If I were Rachel Dratch I would politely tell her to stfu.
Agree. See also: Sedaris, Amy.
Yeah, but I mean, part of that is branding, for lack of a better word to refer to what I guess used to be thought of as simply establishing one's public persona. Sure, she's good-looking; but she's not mind-blowingly hot. She's not "I would turn my head for a second look if she passed me on Fifth Avenue" hot. And based on how many times I have turned my head on Fifth Avenue and elsewhere, there are a lot of girls who are!
Being a successful populist comedian sorta requires that you comport yourself as a bit of a schlub. Americans don't want to look at unattractive people on TV or in the movies, but we also don't want actors who are supposed to be just ordinary folks struggling with the absurdities of everyday life to look way beyond the part.
And of course Esquire is gonna tart her up, because that is just what Esquire and Cosmo and all the rest do. In light of that, I can see why she's pushing the Average Gal line in the copy.
She wants it, but she wants people to know that she knows how ridiculous the hoops, and acts of jumping through, are.
Interview, red carpet, yadda yadda GIMME.
Maybe I'm off in spaceland over here, but I think Fey is probably the kind of writer/performer who doesn't want to be destroyed by fame, hence her reluctance to embrace it.* I think this is understandable as a student of history. I remember when Kurt Cobain killed himself, and it seemed pretty clear that his annointment as the voice of a generation, money and fame did him in. There are similar stories for Chris Farley and John Belushi. This is not to suggest that Fey is the kind of woman who would otherwise develop a raging heroin addiction, abandon her family for the hot club of the week, and start taking her off her clothes. Rather, it seems like she (as would I if I were to ever become famous?) just wants to do her job, be acknowledged for doing it well, and enjoy the ride. Anyway, I guess I'm trying to posit that fame is probably something she's okay with; it's the trappings of fame** she's wary of.
*what does embracing fame look like even?
**drugs, diva-like behavior, a reported sense of entitlement? if that's what trappings are i'd avoid them too.
Embracing fame: http://www.virginmedia.com/images/minelligarland-gal-mother.jpg
touche!
This isn't about being famous; it's about being successful. She understands that she has name recognition, and she intends on using it to promote her projects, especially a TV show she created, writes for, stars in and produces that hasn't been as commercially successful as she may have hoped.
I don't know if she really wants to be famous, but I think she's decided that if her fame will make her work more successful, she's okay with that.
Are there ANY famous white people who admit to wanting to be famous? I really find this entire post implicit nod to Tyler Perry.
Pardon the massive length (heh), but for some reason, John Hodgman's thoughts on fame have stuck with me since I first read them:
When you're young, you sort of think, I'll be on t.v. I'll be a famous person. That's the narcissism of youth. Of course I'll be an astronaut. And then I'll be the president. Or whatever. But you move on with your life and eventually you realize, No, this is what I am, whatever you are, whether it's the result of carefully planned life choices or whether you've been buffeted along by events. Usually it's some combination of the two, but you know by then that you don't have to be an astronaut. You have your own life.
Then someone knocks on your door and says, "C'mon. You're going into outer space. Go pack." You think, But I don't want to do that anymore. "No, you have to come."
In that piece, which I originally wrote for This American Life, I say that you go up into space, you're floating around, you eat the dehydrated food, but you don't ever feel comfortable. You don't get used to it.
Well, that's a lie. You get used to it right away.
It makes you a monster immediately. You get used to it right away and you don't want to ever go back. It's why people in Hollywood are such monsters. This will be a distant memory fairly soon, I think; the tendency is to hang on as tight as you can.
When I first flew out to do the Mac ads, it was the first time I'd ever flown first class. It was really nice. Really nice. I went out for a week to shoot the ads, and I kind of understood very quickly how the process worked. Then they were going to fly me back to a different location so I could meet my family for a vacation, which had been planned long before. I got the itinerary a couple days before leaving, and I saw that it was business class. No, no, no, no.
It had been a week! And I'm going up to the person, saying, "I'm really sorry, but my contract is pretty clear about this. It's for first class." And the guy was like, "I really don't know what I can do about it." And I say [whispering], "Could you look into it, please?" Sure enough, the next day, I got the itinerary back and it said first class.
Only later, once I was on the plane, did I realize that the flight only had two classes of service: coach and business class. It's the only plane that flies to this destination. There was no first class to put me on. The person might have even explained that to me at some point, but I refused to accept it, so he eventually just reprinted the itinerary with "first" instead of "business," and I learned a valuable lesson about how monstrous "talent" can be and how they are treated back.
That delicate game. That's a long answer to "Do you get used to it?" Yes, you do. The trouble is that you do.
So fame is like…drinking really good coffee.
Ooooh. First class will do it. I've not had the same brush with fame as you have, but in my line of work it counts. I was called in as a talking head for a "documentary" being produced by a company owned by a famous movie star (initials MG). I told them I would only provide academic background; I would not say what they wanted me to say–that the thing in question was real. They flew me out first class. Five star hotel in Rome. Got me in front of the camera and when I stuck to my guns they flew me home coach the next day. I was really, really tempted to just whore out. The trappings were small, but I had myself 30 pounds thinner, 10 years younger and walking the red carpet (in my imagination) about 5 minutes after taking my seat in 1st class. Yep, for a minute there I wanted it, and it wasn't even within sniffing distance. I can only imagine what it's like when it's within your grasp.
She employs some couple hundred people. Maybe she does want fame — (but why? what smart person likes it?) — but there could very well be another explanation: she has an obligation to publicize her show to make sure it stays on the air. She's not so twattish to really and truly shun all the outlets that make 30 Rock such a high profile show for NBC.
Performance Art?
A perhaps-related issue: what's the difference between wanting fame and fame-whoring? Talent? Blatancy? Because a Real Housewife, say, and Tiny Fey are two totally different creatures, even if they both want to be famous. Tina Fey might want to be famous while pretending she doesn't, but she also works to be famous. Yet a Real Houswife works really hard to stay famous, but it's not "work" in the same way. The former I respect and don't have a problem with, but the latter makes me cringe. Am I making any sense?
And, yeah, I think if I had to choose a problem to have with Ms. Fey it would be the "Oh, I'm not hot!" thing, because, I mean, maybe she's not a supermodel, but she ain't Quasimodo. As Tuna pointed out, Rachel Dratch should tell her to STFU (though I don't think Dratch is really that ugly, either, but that's another thing for another time). Yet, I can see how she still has a picture of herself as the really unattractive high school girl-geek (we've seen yearbook pictures and she really was fug); it's probably where a lot of her comedy comes from, and it's something she probably can never get over, no matter how many glamorous Esquire shoots she does. So maybe she just has really bad self-image.
Tina's talent has catapulted her into the spotlight, but I don't think she ever sought fame, like Dina Lohan did for Lindsay. It's not like there was a huge demand for female comedic writers in the first place. She's more or less created a niche for herself to great effect.
What's interesting, is when she and NBC finally decide to pull the plug on 30 Rock, will it be on a high note or will they drag it out until we're sick of it? Also, what will she do after 30 Rock? Will she ever be able to break free from the Liz Lemon mold? I don't think so, but it'll be fun watching her try (or not).
Has anyone thought about just asking her what she wants?
I think it's obvious that she wants it because she has it.
"Time has helped me achieve peace with celebrity. At first I was not famous enough, then I was too famous, now I am famous just right. Oh yes, I have heard the argument that celebrities want fame when it's useful and don't when it's not. That argument is absolutely true." — Martin, S., Born Standing Up (New York 2007) 188.
What a bitch. A man who wants to be famous and admits to it is just being assertive. Except for Tom Cruise, he's a bitch, too.