Fame is for Fools

"Everyone wants to be Cary Grant. Even I want to be Cary Grant."

Archibald Leach, AKA Cary Grant

Some people lose their minds when they see a familiar building or street in a movie. It’s impossible not to feel a little buzz when that happens. Seriously, though, they’re the same buildings they were before someone put them on film.

I starting paying attention to this phenomenon walking through Greenwich Village as a teen when I came across Bleecker Street for the first time. “Holy crap! I’m on the actual Bleecker Street from the Simon and Garfunkel song!” So it went for Fifth Avenue, 42nd Street, and pretty much everything else in NY. Some people even make pilgrimages to various movie locations or bars or apartments from movies they love. I've done it myself.


But it's an illusion I tell you.

The ordinary can seem extraordinary when set in a cinematic framework. Many celebrities have commented on the sort of freakish recognition they get by saying, “When you become famous you don’t change. Everyone around you does.” There is, of course, nothing particularly fascinating about LaSalle Street. Chicagoans see it every day and think nothing of it. When you see it in a film, however, it suddenly acquires a false aura of importance because you know that other people around the world are seeing it, too. Same goes for most actors, who in their “real” lives before fame were no more or less popular or interesting to their classmates as anyone else.

That’s the quirk about fame. Knowing that lots of other people know the same person or landmark is considered special, no matter how ordinary he/she/it might be in reality. Of course, countless people fall for the illusion that a particular actor is somehow like the characters he or she portrays. That’s classic delusion and it works like a charm.

We also associate certain stars with movies or shows that were part of our childhood or adolescence. Whether or not these actors are complete goofballs in real life is irrelevant: they are part of our lives by proxy.


I can remember being in this exclusive NY bar called Pravda on a night when a slew of celebrities were there, including the not-so-famous Tina Louise, who played Ginger on Gilligan’s Island. There was a tacit rule at Pravda (which applies pretty much to NYC in general) not to approach celebrities.

I’ve never been star-struck except when I have admiration for the celebrity in question, although in my case they tend to be artists, writers or physicists. I could give a damn about meeting actors or athletes. That night, though, I couldn’t resist because Tina Louise was my first crush. So when I saw her sipping her cocktail I decided to honor my childhood and break Pravda’s rule. She was no longer the super hot Ginger I remembered but still.

“Excuse me, Ms. Louise?”

Smile.

“Sorry for being ridiculous and I’ve never done this, but you were the first woman I ever loved. I would hate myself if I didn’t tell you that.”


She was flattered, but as the words came out I realized I made her feel old. Somehow, it went from my boyhood dreams of us together on that island to me making her feel like shit at Pravda.

Hey actors: you've got us fooled

Life is weird. Fame is even weirder.