Posts Tagged ‘marilyn monroe’

About a month ago, I wrote a blog on brand immortality and the way that people are exploiting dead celebrities to generate vast amounts of money in the wake of Michael Jackson’s death. Now, as the world gears up for This Is It, a film of Jackson rehearsals, CNN have come out with a report detailing what seems like the beginnings of a cult of dead celeb exploitation – there are even “death hags” who tour the sites of their favourite stars’ deathplaces, always on the lookout for morbid curiosities to buy.

Last year’s top-earning dead celebrities, according to Forbes magazine’s forthcoming report, are Elvis Presley, Charles M. Schulz, Heath Ledger, Albert Einstein, Aaron Spelling, Dr. Seuss (Theodor Geisel), John Lennon, Andy Warhol, Marilyn Monroe, Steve McQueen, Paul Newman, James Dean, and Marvin Gaye, who earned a combined $194 million in 2008.

It’s a revealing article, and it makes me think I may not have gone far enough with my predictions of the exploitations of dead stars that are to come.

To read my original blog, click here. To read the CNN report in full, click here.

Celebrity death is best done young, or youngish, whilst all the characteristics that enamour the public to them remain intact. It’s not great for the celebrity in question, perhaps, but certain brand-builders love a good image that’s been soused in aspic and preserved for an eternity of milking.

Take Michael Jackson, whose death has seen the worst elements of him shorn away, with only the adulation left; there’s now a competition to design a fitting memorial for him. And of the entries, there’s not one but three suggestions to build a Jackson-shaped island off Dubai, next to the other man made islands. The proposals would, of course, all have theme-parks on them – a home for Neverland ranch, if the new owner feels the need to sell it.

It’s astonishingly gauche, but somehow hardly surprising. I half expect one of the entries to win and then we’ll be able to see a Jackson-shaped landmass from space. What an alien visitor would make of this is another question.

An alien visitor’s reaction to the relentless plundering of Jackson’s brand in the months since his death would make for interesting reading, too. The family started it, with Jackson’s father launching a record label in the wake of his son’s death. The only way from here is to plunder more, until all the contrary mystery that Jackson maintained is gone.

Not that you have to be dead for your brand to be plundered: licensing firm CKX Inc recently bought an 80% stake in the image rights to the great boxer Muhammed Ali, paying around $50 million to use his name, image and likeness of the boxing champ, as he was at the height of his powers, as they see fit. Ali retains 20% of himself in the deal (more, I suspect, than is actually left of the iconic boxing champion in him) as well as taking the money upfront, a shrewd deal for a man who was so badly damaged by boxing, one which guarantees his survival in the collective consciousness.

The same plunder is happening with all sorts of iconic figures of the 20th century, from Marilyn Monroe to Elvis to Che Guevara. Their images have been in use for years, generating awesome amounts of money for the license holders and for the estates of the dead stars, but it will be interesting to see where new technology takes their images – we’ve already seen Laurence Olivier resurrected for theatre and film, but as the technology advances, so will the scope for looting the brands of dead stars. Whole films carried by computer-generated versions of James Dean? A new romcom starring Elvis and Marilyn with a supporting role for Che? The possibilities are terrifyingly endless.

What fun the brand looters could have with Peter Mandelson, who stood up at the Labour conference the other day and completed his resurrection. As Quentin Letts pointed out in the Mail: “There were self-puncturing jokes, swishes of kitten claw and a series of exaggerated waist swivels, arm gesticulations and eye flashes worthy of a Michael Jackson impersonator.”

It leaves me wondering what we would be left with if Mandelson were to shuffle, untimely, off this mortal coil. Preserve him in aspic now and we would have the new, pantomime Machiavelli, the glamorous manipulator, the ultimate in Lazarene politician-kind.

Simply, he is the current brand apotheosis of this type of politics and the standing ovation he received at the Labour conference is as good as any baptism in waves of spin. Now he is free to fight his way to the leadership of the Labour party. I wonder which way the Sun would turn if he was in charge?

That said, I doubt anyone would consider building an island in his honour, should he pass on suddenly. A scale model of the Millennium Dome in a model village somewhere, perhaps, but that’s about it. Which is more than can be said for Gordon Brown, mind you, who, despite a rousing speech at the conference yesterday, has yet to shake off Steve Bell’s branding of him as a rain-cloud. His only hope for long-term brand management is his wife…

The media post mortem following Michael Jackson’s death, which shows no signs of abating, has unearthed some astounding observations. With the tearful tributes, the questions about cause of death, the demand for a second post mortem, potential custody battles over his children and the absence of any will and testament, I can’t help feeling that the greatest tragedy in this whole sad affair, is the unadulterated exploitation of a man who was clearly disturbed and at the mercy of a number of charlatans.
Of course show business is exactly what it claims to be – business – and it’s always been the same for stars. Very few have had real control, whether you’re talking about Buster Keaton, Judy Garland or Marilyn Monroe. But there’s usually a team of people behind the star who know how to make money and keep the brand going, but with Jackson he seems to have been constantly exploited, either by those in his entourage or by his family.
The word is that the pressure on Jackson to perform fifty dates at the O2 arena contributed to his untimely death. Wouldn’t his fitness to perform have been checked in a medical before the ten dates turned into fifty. Surely the heart would be the major organ to feature in such medicals?
It’s been suggested that the sharp rise in the number of dates was also responsible for Jackson losing his nerve, another issue that needed treatment from his “private” doctor. But why was Jackson playing fifty dates at the O2 when he could have played eleven dates at Wembley Stadium to the same amount of fans. The o2 holds 20,000 and Wembley Stadium holds 90,000. Weighing in at only 8 stone, with a suspected pill habit, why did Jackson’s advisors think it beneficial for him to do fifty dates instead of eleven?
It seems that Wembley has been overtaken as the definitive rock venue by the O2, which is hoovering up all the gigs. But there was a time, a few years back, when you couldn’t pay anyone to set foot in the place; now it’s the mecca for rock music, made cool by the likes of Led Zeppelin and Prince. The turn in fortune for the o2 was partly down to Rob Hallett, the head of the o2’s programming who was purportedly the man behind the increase in the number of Jackson dates. He was backed by Randy Phillips who heads up AEG worldwide- both parties no doubt benefiting extensively from this business deal. The statement released this morning that AEG intends to treat the Jackson fans with as much respect as Jackson himself did is rather jarring considering the statement was accompanied by a calculated publicity stunt.
This must be the biggest single event to be cancelled – ever. The tickets have been sold internationally, via internet sellers, through agents and touts and on ebay, making a vast network of ticket owners. The idea, then, that AEG is offering the fans a choice of a refund for the ticket price or the concert ticket itself as a souvenir, which could be worth something in years to come, is a stroke of (obvious) PR genius.
The cost of a paper ticket will have been a fraction of the price of the ticket value, and a large proportion of those fans will probably opt for the ticket rather than a refund as it will be one of the last items of Jackson memorabilia available to them. Handy really for AEG, as it turns out they are apparently only insured for ten Jackson dates. If, however, they are hoping that people will go for the ticket as a possible investment, the people who booked tickets should be aware that there are 1 million of them and this doesn’t make for much of a limited edition. AEG might have done better to promise some of the money to a Jackson-friendly charity.
Jackson was surrounded on both sides by people draining him – by fans on one side, who drooled over his every word and on the other by people making money out of him who kept him divorced from reality. He always surrounded himself with sharp operators who were top-notch at short-term brand work – but no one who could play the long game, which would explain all the difficulties that dogged throughout his life. I worked with him once, briefly, a long time ago, and his people always had their own agenda. I was unable to work with his entourage as I was just a pawn in a multifaceted chess game. Jackson, however, was just a puppet in the middle.
The same is true in death; the scrum to loot Jackson’s brand is underway and, like the beat, it will probably go on and on. The Jackson brand will never be laid to rest.

Now, people are free to turn Michael Jackson into what they always wanted him to be; the perfect pop prince who will be spotted living on the moon with Elvis one of these days, humming a few bars of Thriller. Death cleanses people like Jackson; all the negative copy has been laid to rest on the man himself. Instead it is being directed at the sharks gathering at his coffin side, the whole dysfunctional family, who have come to loot what they can. AEG are benefiting, albeit inadvertently, from Jackson’s death, but many others are cashing in on the Jackson brand whether it be via merchandising or creating DVDs from Jackson’s upcoming show rehearsal clips. Jackson’s father, however, is using this time to launch a record label as a method of mourning.

Jackson is, simply, worth more dead than alive – his death allows his life to become the Disney fairy tale he always wanted it to be. And, like a Disney fairy tale, all the really strange and unfortunate aspects of Michael Jackson’s life have been excised.

He will be buried at Neverland, the palace he built to try and contain his long-lost youth, after being carried through the streets of LA in a glass coffin placed on a carriage drawn by white horses and followed by a motorcade and doubtless hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of people will come to watch. This was the family’s idea of a special send off

Jackson is being Dianified. And on top of that I have it on good authority that there are plans already afoot to create holograms of Jackson that will, effectively, keep him as a ‘living’ presence for evermore. Imagine it – Michael Jackson, permanently fit unless there’s a powercut, playing Vegas forever. It really wouldn’t surprise me if holographic technology were brought forward by decades just to achieve this.

“Dying is an art,” wrote Sylvia Plath, in her poem Lady Lazarus, and the very public final weeks of Jade Goody are reinforcing Plath’s point remarkably well. Jade Goody has moved on from the unthinking, mouthy persona that brought her to national attention with a sudden aplomb, becoming, in her need to make a better life for the two children she will be leaving behind in the wake of her terminal cervical cancer, an iconic figure whose death will mark the end of an era of celebrity in Britain.

Jade Goody

There are notes of disgust registering around the country that she’s intending to let a film crew follow her through her final weeks as well as to her wedding, assuming it happens before she is too ill to cope. There shouldn’t be; this is a woman dying as she lived. She is, in many ways, like Mickey Rourke’s character in The Wrestler, in that all she knows is a life in front of the camera and all she can do to ensure the future for her children is to make as much money as quickly as possible for them in the only way she knows how; on television and in the press.

It’s telling that she has made it clear that she wants to ensure that her children are educated; this is the woman who came from difficult, uneducated beginnings to make a career in the celebrity industry, a woman who created a new life for herself on Big Brother and took on the personality the tabloids created for her, only to watch them turn on her with more vigour when she rose above the cheap insults that were initially levelled at her. She’s not the brightest of women but, tellingly, she knows it. And it’s her attempts to make amends for her mistakes that have endeared her to the British public. She is finally taking control of her life in the spotlight in a way that she wasn’t able to do when she first found herself in the arms of fame.

She is a most human celebrity and it is to be hoped, for the sake of her children, that she will be remembered for her late transmogrification into a role model; according to The Guardian, the swift and vicious spread of her cervical cancer – and her brutal, well-publicised honesty about it – is responsible for a massive upsurge of requests for smear tests. This alone drives home what people think about her. She is ‘one of us’, albeit ‘one of us’ who has become an industry in her own right. She is fallible but not above trying to make amends for her failings, even if that means doing so in excruciating detail in the public eye.

“There is a charge//For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge/For the hearing of my heart…” wrote Sylvia Plath, again in Lady Lazarus. And: “The peanut-crunching crowd/Shoves in to see//Them unwrap me hand and foot/The big strip tease.” Jade Goody has run with this idea and made a positive of it; where Plath was contemplating her attempts at suicide, the ‘big strip tease’ of Goody’s final weeks is solely about taking care of the future for her children and may well see her reborn in the public’s collective memory as someone who rose above the pain and despair and did some good.

Goody is not succumbing to Gwili Andre’s lonely and miserable mode of death, alone in her flat consumed by the fires taking root in her piles of cuttings. She has not allowed fame to make her bitter. She is taking what remains of her life and transforming it, seemingly aware that she, like so many celebrities before her, from Marilyn Monroe to Princess Diana, will be frozen in the moment by her early death. Of course she’d prefer to live to see her children grow old rather than die in front of the cameras, but what she’s doing is right for her and what she thinks is right for her children.

If it disturbs you, do not watch or read the reports, but do not try to prevent Jade Goody from choosing the manner of her death; she has finally proved that she deserves more than that.