LIFE AT THE TOP
When one has achieved a certain status, the line between what we owe ourselves and what we owe to others becomes muddy
THE PRICE OF CELEBRITY IS HIGH.
Even if they didn’t sign up for it, the burden of integrity that comes with fame is something that happens when one adopts a profession that places them in the public eye. Like it or not, being famous implies a degree of public trust invested in them and with it, the responsibility of being a role model whether they like it or not. This dichotomy of “what I do” versus “who I am” is best encapsulated in the 1982 Emmy nominated film My Favourite Year about swashbuckling actor Alan
Swann (inspired by Errol Flynn). “I’m not an actor! I’m a movie star!” he cries as he comes to the realisation that even though his career is on the wane, his adoring fans still very much see him as a dashing hero. Now an alcoholic, Swann struggles to look pristine for his fans.
Like it or not, every job, even the ones we love, have ugly aspects we don’t enjoy dealing with. I won’t comment on whether these stresses rise to the degree of mental health issue but i’m not exactly sure
“I want what I want, screw the rest” is a good message to send either.
I stand with celebrities who refuse selfies and autographs while they’re out for drinks and dinner because they have a right to private life but whether you’re out on a promotional tour of a new movie, or pa icipating in a Grand Slam, public interest in your career accomplishments and wanting to know how you feel about it are pa and parcel of life as an international celebrity.
Having status comes with sacrifice and ultimately it’s about balancing private and public aspects of life. That said, threatening to disqualify someone in a 253 word press release extolling self-superior vi ues while someone is trying to deal with the stresses and duties of being thrust into super stardom is equally ham handed. I guess Naomi Osaka is experiencing first-hand that being rich and famous is nowhere near as good as being rich and obscure. There’s a reason why we describe someone as “being put on a pedestal” - few willingly climb up themselves, we put them there.