2. Culture is not neutral: whom does it serve?

Discuss with reference to the construction of celebrity.

“Culture” is a big place. A single word encapsulates a range of artistic pursuits, literary endeavours, Macchiavellian political games and the human social foundation upon which all of these accomplishments are grounded. As society has moved to become structured across the globe in market-based economies, the drive of industry has commodified artwork, music, film and even people. In a global world, where economic and corporate expansion have exceeded military and state-based expansion, culture then fits into the mass-market in a commodified form. Instead of existing outside of consumer society, culture, as Bob Dylan would say, has gotta serve somebody. This post will explore the notion of culture as self-expanding, accomodating a variety of attitudes into the larger logic of market capitalism. By understanding culture in this way, we can see that, capable of incorporating all the responses it generates, culture ultimately supports a machinic market which allows it to expand without losing stability.

Culture expands and maintains its stability through subjectivity production by commodities. Key to consumer society involves ‘large numbers of people staking a real portion of their personal identities and their quest for meaning … on the search for and acquisition of goods’ (Stearns 1997, 105). And in consumer society, such commodities’ value are defined not by their use-value, but as ’social things whose qualities … have absolutely no connexion with their physical properties’ (Marx 1867, 43). Celebrities play an essential role today, through the cultural obsession with stars and their personal lives, in defining the social value of commodities. I will first provide a brief background of consumerism, and then explore the way celebrity commodifies lifestyle through Entourage (Ellin 2005). With the creation of new media outlets, it is important to examine whether or not websites such as YouTube and MySpace, with their ability to create instant celebrities, undermine the capitalist nature of commodifying the celebrity. I hope to show that, if we understand culture as ever-expanding and ever-incorporating, all cultural pursuits serve the machine which allows it to grow, which in our post-industrial world is that of consumer-capitalism.

Consumer Culture

Consumer culture has arisen from a myriad of changes within the social landscape of post-industrial societies, with the first originating by 1800, when for the first time ‘so great a segment of the population [had] been so involved in the “convulsion of getting and spending”’ (Martin 1993, 148). As Martin goes on to show, the growth of consumerism in America was a gradual process throughout the 18th century, typically filtered through the affluent to the poor, as colonists accumulated holdings through land, livestock, and labour. During the 19th century, the changing roles of labour and the family, the growth of mass production and the commodification of services were three of the myriad changes that led to the development of consumer culture. As Braverman states, individuals were by the dawn of the 20th century trapped ‘in a web made up of commodity goods and commodity services from which there is little possibility of escape’ (1974, cited in Langer 2002, 60).

Arnold Schwarzenegger Goes to Tokyo

With this rise in consumer culture, industries naturally developed to maximise potential profits from what has become known as the culture industry. The industry which includes magazines, films, radio, television and the internet is fundamentally concerned with the profitability of art and the creation of material which is marketable and which in no way ‘differs from [executive authorities'] own rules, their own ideas about consumers, or above all themselves’ (Adorno and Horkheimer 1993, 30). While Adorno and Horkheimer omit the “higher” forms of art (the visual arts, sculpture, and classical music), I believe we can include all forms of cultural representation within the all-encompassing industry, because all forms of art, whatever the purpose of their creation, serve as signifiers in the greater social landscape. Television, radio and magazines rely upon advertising to fund their projects. Film financiers often utilise product placement to raise budgets, while the stars of their films do advertisements overseas (McCaughan 2007, 34).

Celebrity Coffee Ads

The culture industry, then, is not simply an industry aimed at selling shlock entertainment which ‘is so firmly stamped with sameness’ that there prove to be no defining traits (Adorno & Horkheimer 1993, 35). It is a vast and varied industry which earns its expansion by advertising lifestyles, whether of mainstream or sub-cultures. The young person who buys into the hip-hop industry, obsessive over his music and insistent on baggy pants, is no different than the wealthy and educated intellectual who purchases antique furniture and priceless pieces of art. Both are consuming a lifestyle offered to them by the culture industry, and more often than not, by celebrities.

Celebrity Machines

It is important to note from the outset that there are several definitional issues in celebrity and star studies: ‘the term “stardom” was conferred to denote a dialectic between on/off-screen presence … the term celebrity … has long since been structured by discourses of cultural value’ (Holmes 2005, 9). In this discussion, as we are focusing primarily on the star/celebrity’s ability to propagate lifestyle identification and identity formation, the two terms can be considered interchangeable.

The study of celebrities is essentially the study of ourselves. Celebrity, fame and stardom have no meaning without an audience who has an interest in and recognition of these figures. There has been much debate over whether or not fame is truly ‘intertwined with the construction of social and cultural identity’ (Holmes 2005, 13). While Dyer has suggested that the notion of discovering who a given celebrity truly is forms a foundation to support the notion of internal identity on which capitalism relies (1986, 9), critics such as Alan Lovell have argued that notably facetious celebrities ought not be considered as fonts of originality and authenticity (2003, 261). Additionally, stars could also be seen as epitomising a post-modern self, decentered and disdainful of concrete identity (Holmes 2005, 14). However, if we can see stars as engaging in the promotion of lifestyle, their authenticity or identity has no impact on their conveyance of subjectivity. Along these lines, we then discover the celebrity-as-commodity, whose value arises both commercially and machinically through their ability to indoctrinate lifestyle choices to the public.

Fundamentally, celebrity-as-commodity seems to have two values: the commercial value (being the additional monetary value that celebrity can bring to existing commercial structures) and the machinic value (being the ability of the celebrity to propagate the culture industry). While the celebrity’s commercial value is often easily charted by the amount of money they are paid per film-episode-album, or their ability to match themselves to a suitable product (McCaughan 2007, 34), their machinic value is of infinitely more importance as it documents their ability to aid the expansion and stablisation of culture. Within this machinic context, celebrities function as an essential reference point, a ’structuring point in self and social identification’ (Elliot 1998, 837). Guattari notes that “today’s … machines do not merely convey representational contents, but also contribute to the fabrication of new assemblages of enunciation” (1995, 113). The expansion of our ability as consumers to engage with material on a variety of levels has led in kind to an expansion of the means by which the culture industry can communicate, and thus subjugate, individuals as consumers. This agency on behalf of the machine is what Guattari called machinic subjectivity, which we can describe as the ways in which the roles and places in society dictated to us are affected by machinic culture (Guattari 1995, 123). Thus, the machinic value of a celebrity documents their direct ability to influence the subjectivities of their audience.

To argue that celebrities have no influence on our lives would be ludicrous. We cut our hair like them, we dress like them, we feign interest in humanitarian crises because of them. In fact, our relationship with celebrities has been analysed in different camps as a misunderstood epidemic, ‘one of the savviest aspects of my personality (from a Darwinian point of view); the start of a downward spiral into depression, anxiety and addiction … or the quiet workings of some very robust genes’ (Harrison 2007). Ultimately, celebrities play a vital role to our subjectification, assisting us as we navigate the murky waters of consumer society, taste and lifestyle.

Entourage and the Lifestyle You’re Not Living

“I don’t care what anyone else says but this show is like the dream life for me and my “entourage”, we watch it religiously.” - tom71300, Entourage Community Page

Entourage documents the puerile exploits of four young men in Los Angeles. Living on the fame of just-A-lister Vincent Chase, friends Eric, Turtle and brother Johnny Drama live the “dream life,” and while the show has been critically praised as ‘a very funny (and often quite nasty) show that relishes Hollywood’s dark underbelly, if not its scrotum’ (Bart 2007, 4), at the end of the day it is a show which glorifies the mythos of Hollywood life. It is ultimately the ’summertime advertisement for a lifestyle you’re not living’ (Swerdlick 2005). Whether or not the intent of the show is to satirise and demonise the Hollywood lifestyle, it is my argument that, as tom71300 so eloquently states, the show presents a dream life for its target audience, and in so doing, it actively propagates the cultural machine through the commodification of the lifestyle it depicts. I will first talk about the ways in which Entourage actively undermines the cult of celebrity, but also how it relies upon the celebrity as a commodity for its own success. Finally, I will show that it is through the use of celebrity, style and sexuality that Entourage is able to so convincingly sell its lifestyle.

As a depiction of the lives of a young movie-star and his friends, Entourage is from the outset a show about the fantastic life of the famous. Whether he is being given a free Maserati, or sleeping with a young starlets-in-training, Vince is never far from the fun. While the first season dealt in small part with the dangers of fame through a slightly crazy stalker, the plotline eventually resolved itself as these things usually do: Vince had sex with someone else, and despite a good effort Turtle was unable to ‘close the deal.’ In fact, sex and celebrity are frequently refered to in business terms throughout the show, as the popularity of Jeremy Piven’s character, Golden Globe winning agent Ari Gold, indicates.

Adrian Grenier talking about the ‘truth’ of Entourage

Ari, while he stumbles in later seasons particularly dealing with Terrence McQuewick (the senior partner) and James Cameron, is placed within Vince’s entourage as a stabilising force, as is Shona, Vince’s fiery publicist. Both characters are almost parental figures, Shona calls herself Vince’s ‘west coast mother,’ and simultaneously both characters represent the consumptive, commodity arm of entertainment. In episode 6 “Busey and the Beach,” Ari highlights this as he arrives at the scene of a party where young agent Josh Weinstein is trying to steal Vince. He confesses his belief that following the studio picture Head On with an indie is stupid, but agrees to stay out of the way if the next film is a ‘franchise, baby…with a lunchbox, an action figure with a HUGE cock.’ Ari carries through on this desire, with the first episode of season two, ‘The Boys are Back,’ where he sets Vince up to be the next major superhero Aquaman. It becomes clear that, though Vince does not initially want to take the role, Ari’s guess earlier was correct: there are now no offers for major films because of Vince’s dabbling in independent cinema. Shona’s role, alternatively, is the branding and marketing of Vince, with little heed to the artistic merit of his roles. When informed that Vince might be playing a homosexual role, she is irate; ‘Vince is on his way to becoming a major sex symbol, don’t fuck this up! Get him on the screen with someone whose got tits!’ At the end of this episode, Vince and Eric talk next to a giant Absolut vodka sign. In Los Angeles, even the city is branded, endorses products and engages in the promotion of its own mystique.

Whether or not Entourage intends to satirise the glamour around Hollywood and movie stars, as tom71300 demonstrated above there is a very real appeal to the carefree life these celebrities live. And, in fact, the show makes ample, bordering on excessive, use of celebrity cameos to sell the show. The cameos range from well known actors playing parts (such as Martin Landau as Bob Ryan, an old Hollywood veteran who has lost his luster, or the inspired Val Kilmer as a Sherpa). The commodification of celebrity then extends from a thematic issue within the series to a popular trademark for its audience. The show also plays upon the celebrity by their contention that Entourage is a fairly accurate, if exaggerated, depiction of Hollywood life. We cannot know if this is mere marketing campaign or the show is actually a truthful representation of the vicissitudes of Hollywood life, as would seem to be suggested by Bart’s confirmation (2007, 4), but either way the show uses celebrity, through both its mythically accurate depiction of Vince’s life and its extensive use of cameos, to sell a lifestyle which its audience devours greedily.

That lifestyle is one of style and sex: the two concerns of the modern male, as Entourage would have it. While show creator Doug Ellin has often insisted that the show is just about the four boys, and that they could be any number of other professions, the show would only maintain its current style and content if that profession provided them with a near infinite cash flow, unlimited access to events and parties, and did not require any sort of organisation or responsibility save from the key figures they hire to do so (Eric included). The boys use their power, wealth and stature to pursue a an easy lifestyle of sex and fun, whether by using Vince’s image to throw giant parties, as in the season one finale, or using Vince’s cash to purchae $1,200.00 pyjamas for a party at the Playboy mansion. It is a lifestyle which glorifies in the consumptive powers of money, using them to craft a lifestyle which gives them greater cultural standing, for, as Turtle notes, ‘What’s the use of spending 1200 dollars on pjs if nobody knows it?’

By commodifying a Hollywood lifestyle where ‘Maybe You Can Have Everything,’ Entourage is a vital enabling force for the culture industry and thus the machine of market capitalism in general. By presenting a Hollywood lifestyle which, satirised or no, holds great appeal for the modern consumer, the series subjectifies its audience as consumers of a lifestyle to which only the boys have the key. It is a system of exclusivity which, through depicting a lifestyle as fantasy, forever alienates the consumer while seducing them with the promise that these are just four boys from Queens.

The Pseudo-Celeb

The development of websites such as YouTube, MySpace and the blog culture have made it possible, seemingly, for the cult of celebrity to escape from its consumerist confines. With characters such as “Brookers” having a viewcount in the millions, it appears as if some garage-celebrities have a viewer base which rivals network television shows. Entourage plays upon these pseudo-celebrity figures in episode 17, “I Love You Too,” when an all-powerful comic geek viably threatens Vince with blacklisting through his blog - which has over a million readers and can single handedly destroy opening weekends.

Meanwhile, a virtual currency has arisen on YouTube.com, where pseudo-celebrities battle for subscribers with a passion which would put even the most cutthroat network executive to shame. ArshaAsteraki, a burgeoning teenage Persian rap artist, has created videos appropriately named “SUBSCRIBE OR DIE!” and “YOUTUBE CELEBRITY OVERNIGHT!”

SUBSCRIBE OR DIE!

YOUTUBE CELEBRITY OVERNIGHT

He also shows an uncanny awareness of viral marketing techniques, linking his posts to extremely popular videos on YouTube utilising the response mechanic, despite there being no connection or mention of the former post. His guerilla marketing tactics have netted Arsha almost 9,000 subscribers and almost 100,000 channel views, and while this is not unsubstantial, it pales in comparison to the phenomenon known as “Brookers,” who even with over seven million views is no where near the most popular on YouTube. Brooke Brodack, however, has made the leap from YouTube stardom to that other realm of pseudo-celebrity fame, serving as a videojockey (VJ) and in a talent development contract with Carson Daley’s production company (Martin 2006).

Another increasingly common route to stardom is through the swamp of reality television. Shows such as American Idol (Fuller 2002) allow somewhat talented (and sometimes somewhat untalented) performers take a crack at the business, while others such as Big Brother (2000) require little more than debatably interesting individuals willing to expose themselves in front of the cameras. Occasionally these shows produce true talent, but just as frequently they let that talent slip through the cracks, as Jennifer Hudson slipped from Idol before going on to win an Oscar.

For all that they may serve to level the playing field, this different outlets for celebrity do nothing to change the role of the celebrity as regards to lifestyle production. On the rare occasion that a true star is born from such shows, they slip easily into the mold which is defined for them, and even should they not, they then become a poster child for the various subculture categories into which they fall. With a rising media control on entities such as YouTube (owned by Google, the internet search-engine-cum-advertising-giant) and MySpace (owned by News Corp), not only do pseudo-celebrities continue to serve the same purpose, albeit with usually less fanfare, as the stars, but the bodies which produce them are firmly anchored in traditional culture industry corporations, thus negating any possible claims at independence they might attempt.

Ultimately culture serves itself: all human action, from violent revolutionary and secessionist politics to abstract and surreal art to ’status quo’ entertainment and politics ultimately serves to expand culture, by carving out new cultural landscapes without abandoning the old. Each of these movements, no matter how extreme, can be commodified and incorporated into the market machine of post-industrial capitalism. One means by which this is accomplished is the incorporation of commodities into marketable ‘lifestyles’ which are sold through the machinic apparatus of the celebrity.

Works Cited

Adorno, Theodor and Horkheimer, Max. 1993. ‘The Culture Industry: Enlightenment as Mass Deception.’ In The Cultural Studies Reader, ed. Simon During. London: Routledge. 29-43.

Bart, Peter. 2007. ‘Into the Underbelly of the H’w'd Beast.’ Variety, 26 March - 1 April. 4.

Elliott, Anthony. 1998. ‘Celebrity and Political Psychology: Remembering Lennon.’ Political Psychology, vol. 19, no. 4. 833-852.

Guattari, Felix. 1995. ‘Regimes, Pathways, Subjects.’ In Soft Subversions, ed. S. Lotringer. New York: Simotext(e). 112-130.

Harrison, Erica. 2006. ‘Divine Trash: the Psychology of Celebrity Obsession.’ Cosmos, no. 7. Visited at 29 April 2008, http://www.cosmosmagazine.com/node/414/full.

Holmes, Su. 2005. ‘”Starring… Dyer?”: Re-visiting Star Studies and Contemporary Celebrity Culture.’ Westminster Papers in Communication and Culture, vol. 2, no. 2. 6-21.

Martin, Denise. 2006. ‘Carson Daly Bonkers for Brookers.’ Variety. Visited at 2 June 2008, http://www.variety.com/article/VR1117945151.html?categoryid=1009&cs=1&query=brookers&display=brookers.

Marx, Karl. 1867. ‘The Fetishism of the Commodity and the Secret Thereof’. In Karl Marx Capital: An Abridged Edition, ed. David McLellan. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999. 42-50.

McCaughan, Dave. 2007. ‘The Fine Art of Matching a Celebrity with a Brand.’ Advertising Age, vol. 78, no. 16. 34.

Langer, Beryl. 2002. ‘The Consuming Self.’ In Social Self, Global Culture, ed. Peter Beilharz & Trevor Hogan. South Melbourne: Oxford University Press. 55-66.

Martin, Ann Smart. 1993. ‘Makers, Buyers, and Users: Consumerism as a Material Culture Framework.’ Winterthur Portfolio, vol. 28, no. 2/3. 141-157.

Stearns, Peter. 1997. ‘Stages of Consumerism: Recent Work on the Issues of Periodization.’ The Journal of Modern History, vol. 69, no. 1. 102-117.

Swerdlick, David. 2005. ‘Typecast.’ Popmatters. Visited at 28 April 2008, http://www.popmatters.com/tv/reviews/e/entourage-040714.shtml.

Filmography

Entourage, Doug Ellin, 2005 - Present.