Posted by on December 12, 2019 11:38 am
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Categories: µ Newsjones

In this era in which stars keep tight control of their publicity, Beyoncé’s offer to answer fans questions was refreshing – if the answers were … not always clear-cut

I need not remind you that we were forced to stare directly into the concept of Josh Brolin’s allegedly red-raw anus last week, so I think it is fair to say that we live in a brave, unheralded, fantastic new era of celebrity overshare. This, as best I can tell, is the third age. In the studio-contract, golden-age-of-Hollywood days, stars said basically nothing, sharing only titbits of their life via fanzine-level magazine features and newspaper columnist gossip items, and most of those were distributed by savvy studio heads, chomping six inches deep into a cigar while they did it. We only learned about all their threesomes long after they all died.

Then a little loosening of the rules, some chum in the water: deep-dive magazine profiles, rock stars saying outrageous things live on television, high-profile relationships and the monetisation of divorce. Britain’s cottage industry for “posed paparazzi photos of someone in the despair of their life” is a particular guilty thrill of mine, which is why I love Arg from Towie so much. He provides a rolling feed of it, constantly either moving in or moving out of Gemma Collins’s house or being told by a doctor he is going to die if he doesn’t stop eating Toblerones in the bath, and there is forever a long-lens camera trained on him while he does it, thickly enacting what he thinks anguish looks like.

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