Corona Killed The Reality Star
To be fair, when Parasite won the oscar, we should have known that starting 2020 with such a high point, the rest of the year would only pale in comparison. And it did, but even the biggest pessimists among us could not have predicted what the following few months would entail.
When COVID-19 crossed the Pacific Ocean and reached the United States, quarantine measures were imposed not-so-swiftly across the nation. Before the first week was over, actress Gal Gadot gathered her Hollywood friends and together they performed Imagine by John Lennon in the comfort of their homes, whilst millions of people around the globe were suffering the very real consequences of the pandemic.
‘Fed Up’ was the first thing that came to mind. The veil of relatability has long since been lifted with celebrities and we’ve grown tired of seeing them and their mansions and their vault of Birkin bags and their 5 high-end cars – we have been for a while. Most celebrities whose brand identity revolved around being ‘relatable’ have either been wise enough to grow out of it or accidentally revealed that underneath their endearing Twitter presence, they are nothing like us.
Just this February, Kylie Jenner tweeted out, ‘i’ve had enough of 2020’ and the ensuing responses were less than sympathetic; with the top reply being, ‘so buy another year whats the problem’ to ‘At least you’re rich’ accompanied with a gif of Rose Mcgowan saying “Imagine how tired we are”. Each response, while harsh, was ultimately a criticism of Jenner’s vast amount of wealth, with a net worth currently standing at 1 billion USD.
This grueling public response is a far cry of the early days of reality TV; while we used to revel in watching Lindsay Lohan go on her never-ending shopping sprees (VH1’s fabulous life, anyone?), this kind of lifestyle is no longer viewed with the same kind of aspirational longing. Where we would laugh at Paris Hilton’s ineptitude at everyday tasks on the Simple Life, this display of ignorance today might go down instead, as a gross display of privilege.
While our favourite y2k teen celebs drew their fair share of criticism at the time, a majority of it was thinly veiled misogyny disguised as concern for the youth and future of America and actual discourse on why this consumption-driven-lifestyle we were obsessed with might be bad for us, never really took root in mainstream consciousness (instead we got the movie Wax House with the infamous and effective tag life ‘See Paris Die’).
I mean, sure, people hated Paris Hilton, but it didn’t stop the average consumer from being entranced with the maximalist lifestyle they watched on screen or read in the tabloids. We could argue that that same style of reality TV now exists in the world of the Kardashians, but never before had we seen such a degree of public distaste towards reality stars and celebrities alike, and more importantly, never before have we seen contempt specifically directed towards a public figure’s wealth.
With a growing sense of class awareness amongst Millennials and Gen Z, we were no longer satiated with the images of glamorous, messy celebrities that once entertained us, and we could no longer be pacified by the seductive, dangling possibility that if we worked hard enough we could one day be one of them. When we started understanding the systemic structures of poverty and wealth, the lives of the elite went from being a distant but aspirational dream to a cruel daily reminder of Capitalism’s ruthless, unyielding nature.
Wealth inequality has always existed - but it took an international crisis for some to see just how deep and disturbing this divide is. When a majority of the working class are out of work or forced to stay working at the risk of their wellbeing – I can promise you the last thing we want to see is a bunch of celebrities telling us to “Imagine no possessions” as they stay safe in their giant houses.
Then, at the arguable ‘tail-ends’ of COVID-19, George Floyd was murdered by a white police officer in a racially motivated act of police brutality. Black Lives Matter protests began in Minneapolis the next day and subsequently spread to all 50 states within America, as well as cities internationally.
People around the world responded with sympathy, pain, and anger. Virgil Abloh responded with 50 dollars. Everyone I knew on social media was sharing information, links to donate and petitions to sign. Sarah Paulson, Aaron Paul, and Kesha shared something reminiscent of a video you might find under the TikTok ‘acting’ hashtag. We sent emails to governments and politicians asking for justice for the murder of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Belly Mujinga. Kendall and Kylie sent each other an Instagram Story streak.
And with that glorious performance, the ivory tower of Celebrity Culture cracked and crumbled until all that remained was the faint sound of a millionaire clapping for healthcare workers on their balcony and the hollow echo of a blacked-out square.
When we look back on this portion of history, I’m sure we will remember very clearly: the people on minimum wage, whose work kept society functioning during COVID-19, the people who put their safety on the line and marched for their right to live, and the parasites who leeched off that same old corrupt system, which was finally beginning to fall apart at the seams.