Every year they find at least one blond girl to rip to pieces until she dies. She's like the sacrifice to the volcano. It's horrendous.
Brittany Murphy on life immediately after "Clueless":
“So funny, but it was hard to get a job for two years after that, everyone thought I was really Tai.”
1. Lose weight.
2. Dye hair.
3. Show them you're not a little girl anymore & can handle the juicy roles.
Brittany Murphy, PARTIAL FILMOGRAPHY:
Clueless (1995): plays "ugly ducking" who gets makeover.
Freeway (1996): plays heroin addict.
Falling Sky (1998): plays alcoholic who tries to kill herself.
Prophecy II (1998): plays suicide victim.
Girl, Interrupted (1999): plays incest survivor with eating disorder who's into cutting and in a mental hospital; later commits suicide.
Don't Say A Word (2001): plays severely disturbed young woman in mental hospital.
Spun (2002): plays meth addict.
The Dead Girl (2006): plays dead hooker.
Deadline (2010): plays woman who has had nervous breakdown.
Abandoned (2010): plays woman with psychiatric issues.
"In playing such a dark and damaged character, the danger is as an actor you could bring some of that darkness back home with you. Murphy has always been careful not to. 'I don't like to bring unhappy energies with me back home' she tells, 'It doesn't serve my life at all."
What does a starlet do when she nears 30?
1. Lose more weight.
2. Show them you're not another aging starlet & can handle the juicy roles.
3. Injections in lips to look younger.
4. Maxim shoot.
"If you don’t have yourself, you have nothing to give."
2002: Saturday Night Live invites Brittany Murphy to host show
2009: Saturday Night Live eviscerates Brittany Murphy
2009: Offending Brittany Murphy SNL clip pulled from Hulu. With death comes clout and respect.
DEAD CELEBRITY ETIQUETTE & PROCEDURE:
1. Twitter trending.
2. Wiki edits.
3. Perez gloat.
4. "I told you so."/"We feel bad about bashing him/her."
5. YouTube tribute vids.
6. Solid two weeks of media reportage.
8. Oscar montage.
9. Set target on next troubled celeb who might kick bucket. Rinse. Repeat.
Brittany Murphy on her role in the movie "The Dead Girl":
"It's not an uncommon story. People choose their own paths in life and had she had had a better grasp on reality then she would have made something wonderful of her life. She just wasn't grounded enough."
"Cher, I don't want to do this anymore."
In the end, there is a young woman dead. Even with an autopsy, even with a narrative pieced together by medical experts, TMZ, and nameless insiders, we can't really claim to know what happened, what she was thinking. She was trying to make a living. Yes, the whole self-worth thing was bound up in that. But she was trying to make a living. And when she lost weight, she got roles. And when she got older, she had to try harder, had to literally stretch the limits of her body in order to compensate. Not because she was deluded, the same fragile young woman with the waif-like eyes that she played over and over again in the movies. But because she was in the industry since she was a child and SHE KNEW HOW IT WORKED.
Shall we ascribe a moral to it: pointing fingers at the media, citing a sexist culture that demands youth and thinness from its women no matter what their age and body type? Is this that inevitable People Magazine story, that cautionary tale? No, that all seems too simple, the equivalent of Lady Gaga's video "Paparazzi," a simultaneous campy condemnation and orgasmic celebration of celebrity culture. The women are dead or maimed in that music video, victims of a cruel celebrity system...but they look FABULOUS!
We could have told a young Brittany Murphy that she didn't need to lose weight or use botox to compete and thrive in her industry; but the highest-grossing actress in the world is Emma Watson in all her skinny, nubile glory. Yes, Hilary Swank gets Oscars...but she is not a movie star, not really. She's not a star.
This is all a syndrome, a never-ending cycle that periodically scoops young women and men up and eats them. We all participate, in our very small, passive way: but we have enough problems. Don't blame us. Don't blame the tabloid editor. Don't blame an -ism.
This just is, that's all, it's all part of the larger meta-narrative. It sucks. And it just is. And when we all pass, there will remain the video clips, the discrete pulses of energy, our witty commentary, our told-you-sos, our anecdotes and Twitpics.
I guess that's where I am at my life, now. I just look at stories like Murphy's from the outside sitting before a pile of media, recognizing my own impotence to predict in any constructive manner, my own impotence in pointing the finger, my own impotence and armchair arrogance in trying to figure the Subject out.