Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Hannah Montana, Harry Potter, and the Hollywood habit of blaming everyone but yourself

So, fun fact: before I wanted to be a filmmaker, I wanted to be Hilary Duff when I grew up. Well, not necessarily Hilary Duff. Maybe JoJo, or Ashley Olson, or Selena Gomez or Emma Roberts or, of course, Miley Cyrus. Didn't matter who I patterned myself on, the point is that I wanted to be a Disney Girl. I'd never say as much out loud; I'd phrase it as "I want to be an actress," but I wanted the whole package. I wanted the Tiger Beat photospread, the sold-out pop concerts, the chain store clothing line. I wanted to be Starlet Avery, instead of being the ordinary twelve-year-old girl I really was.

And hey, I could have been, if my parents had thought it was really what I wanted. Had I lived in Burbank, CA instead of middle-of-damn-nowhere Michigan, I could have had a shot at being Hannah Montana. Why not? I was a cute, sassy preteen girl with a giant ham for a dad and mad piano skills. I could dance. I could model, I could pose. I had braces, but sometimes girls need someone who's a little "ordinary" to look up to, isn't that the Disney press-conference line? I could have been, if it had been serious, if it had ever been more than a fantasy.

But thank God I realized that wasn't what I wanted. Acting was fun, but creation was more fun. It was better, I eventually realized, to be Woody Allen than Ashley Olson. Better to be a jack-of-all-trades who could write, shoot, edit, and star in your own movie, rather than someone who said other people's lines both on and off the camera and was literally paid to be cute because, as Mara Wilson so accurately pointed out, when the cuteness goes away, so does your career.

I'm not perfect now, but I'm relatively happy. A few days ago I got into a lecture/argument with my mom, who basically reminded me to shut up, stop complaining that I don't have my dream job (I'm only 22; what the hell did I expect?) and count my f'ing blessings, already. I have a fantastic boyfriend who has gone above and beyond to make me feel loved and supported, and parents who have sacrificed for me and gone to bat for me and cheered me on since the day I was born. I live in a house with a swimming pool in the backyard, my parents let me drive the car pretty much whenever I want, I'm educated and not in debt. I'm working on my next movie, and I'm positive this one will be in more festivals than the last. I'm damn lucky. I'm no popstar, but I'm damn lucky.

Now, does someone want to give Miley Cyrus that talk that my mom gave me? Because I think she needs it.

Look, I clearly can't comment on how it feels to be a child star, because I never was. And I'm not stupid, I know that most people who were raised in the spotlight turn out to be addicts or worse...but wait, is that really true? What about Mara Wilson, Cole Sprouse, Emma Watson, Dakota Fanning, Hilary Duff, or Daniel Radcliffe--people who went to college, got married, had families, found new jobs and new lives apart from show business, or else went on to be successful in their careers despite being the dreaded "child stars?"

We look at entitled dumbasses like Justin Bieber, or lost souls like Lindsay Lohan, and assume that must be where children who are raised in Hollywood end up. It's inevitable. There's no escaping it. It's why Miley Cyrus dirty-danced with a married man at the VMAs. It's why she got naked in her music videos. It's why she smoked salvia and runs around in onesies and curses like a sailor. She's just trying to show that she's grown up, give her some space, dammit; she was a child star, she is to be pitied.

Except I don't feel sorry for her. Not one little bit.

And let me be clear, I have no comment--actually, one sort-of comment, but that's it--on Cyrus' revelations about her gender identity and sexuality. Good for you, Miley. If you're down to date any consenting person regardless of the plumbing God gave them, more power to you. If you identify as androgynous, no problem. Hell, if you come out as trans I wouldn't bat an eyelash; it's your body and your life and you can do whatever you need to do with it.

My problems with Miley Cyrus have nothing to do with where she falls on the LGBT spectrum. I do, however, have a problem with her apparent belief that having any kind of negative experiences in her Disney career somehow gives her a get-out-of-jail free card.

In an interview with Marie Claire, Cyrus claimed that being on Hannah Montana caused her to develop body dysmorphia. Furthermore, she claimed that working 12-hour days gave her anxiety attacks and prevented her from having a normal childhood. Now, all of this may well be true, or it may be exaggerated; I don't know. I do know that the entertainment industry has a long history of high standards and impossible demands when it comes to women's bodies (and, honestly, male bodies too, in most cases) and that teenagers are particularly susceptible to the effects of said impossible standards set by that industry. But...hold up...wouldn't you know that, if you've ever watched, say, one hour of TV in your life? Look at Pretty Little Liars for crying out loud, you've got 28-year-olds playing 16-year-olds; do you really think normal high school girls look or dress like that? Even at age twelve, I knew that being Hollywood-standard pretty came with a price; being unwilling to pay that price was part of what drove me into filmmaking instead of acting.

And to the other point, Miley, you were a twelve-year-old with a six-figure job. Did you think that would be easy? Again, this isn't a case of hindsight. Even when I was ten years old, reading Disney Adventures because I was too young for Popstar, I'd come across articles interviewing the Harry Potter kids (more on them later), all of whom gave full, detailed descriptions of what it was like to be a kid on a movie set. Long hours. Tutoring instead of going to school. Uncomfortable costumes. Demanding directors. Unpleasant shooting conditions. I refuse to believe that if I, at age ten, could read an interview in Disney Adventures and think, huh, this acting stuff isn't really that glamorous, is it, that Miley Cyrus couldn't have come to the same conclusion before landing the role of Hannah Montana.

Furthermore, Cyrus claiming that the show was the sole reason for her body issues or anxiety issues is kind of like me exclusively blaming Interlochen, my former boarding school, for giving me an eating disorder. I was sixteen, living away from home for the first time, and naturally it was a hell of a stressful time. Certainly that stress may have contributed to the situation--but there were so many other factors, and I firmly believe that if I hadn't gone to Interlochen, it would've happened when I went away to college. Or if I'd lived at home for college, I'd have developed that same disorder when I moved out into my first apartment. You get the picture. My circumstances may have exacerbated my issues, but they didn't create those issues.  It's not my dorm counselor's fault that I couldn't handle being on my own, nor is it her fault that I didn't ask for help before the problem got out of control.

I'm not saying that Miley Cyrus is a bad person. I am saying that I would have a hell of a lot more respect for her if she would take responsibility for herself and her actions. And as a recent college graduate who is currently working in a fast-food restaurant, allow me to tell you, Miley, that there are much worse jobs you could've had. You could have worked at McDonald's or a super-store like Target, to put yourself through college. You could have lived with your parents until you were 25. You could've been a single mother, or gone to community college because you couldn't afford a 4-year degree, or did what my mom did and wait until you were married with a kid to get your master's degree. My mom has given me a lot to live up to. But I don't mind. And you can bet that if I had gone the Hollywood-starlet route, she wouldn't have let me get away with whining to a magazine that my job just sucked and gave me all kinds of mental issues...but only after it made me a multibillion-dollar household name.

Daniel Radcliffe once said that in the early days of his career, when he was a little kid on the Harry Potter set, he would occasionally whine to his father about how hard his job was. To which his father would reply, "Well, at least you're not down a coal mine." Radcliffe later admitted that fear of failure, and the pressure of fame, led him to drink while on-set of the final Harry Potter film and occasionally turn up hungover for filming, until he recognized his behavior as "unhealthy and damaging" - his words - and went sober in 2010. Notice, however, that while he acknowledges the role that fame played in his troubles, he does not blame his drinking on 12-hour workdays or unwanted beautification; he acknowledges that it was his own fear and insecurity that got him into trouble. And he is quick to credit the Harry Potter franchise for kick-starting his acting career and providing him with experiences that he otherwise never would have had.

I tend to go looking for information on the way the film industry affects people who are so deeply involved in it because, obviously, that is where I want to be. And when my time comes - and I am still optimistic that it will - I don't want to be like Miley Cyrus. I don't want to use my fame to my advantage, and then denounce the very thing that made me successful. I want to be Daniel. I want to be that grounded, and that self-aware. I want to be able to look back at the work that made me who I am, and be proud of it, and think to myself yep, that's it, that was the way to do it.

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