Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

ANDREW BREITBART has played the low-key online sidekick to Matt Drudge on the infamous Drudge Report for six years and is a regular commentator on Fox News, CNBC's Dennis Miller show, and talk radio. His writing has appeared in the Wall Street Journal, National Review Online, Human events, and the New York Post, among others, and he has worked as a researcher for Arianna Huffington.

MARK EBNER is an award-winning investigative journalist who has covered all aspects of celebrity culture for Spy, Rolling Stone, Details, Los Angeles magazine, Premiere, Salon, Spin, and New Times, among others. He has produced for and/or appeared as a journalist-commentator on NBC, FOX, MSNBC, A&E, FX, Court TV, and E! Entertainment Television. Ebner is currently serving as staff reporter for American Media, Inc.

Von der hinteren Coverseite

Praise for Hollywood, Interrupted

"This is a fun book!"
Jon Stewart, The Daily Show

"This is a great book to read and a dangerous book to write. Breitbart and Ebner can hide in my basement when the Powers that Be in Hollywood put out a contract on them."
Jonah Goldberg, National Review

"One of America's greatest industries has become one of the most destructive. Hollywood, Interrupted describes the misogynist, pill-popping degenerates who now define American culture."
Ann Coulter, bestselling author

"Half Hollywood Babylon III, half Book of Virtues, Breitbart and Ebner's juicy polemic does for Hollywood celebrities what Liar's Poker did for Wall Street investment bankers."
Mickey Kaus, Slate magazine columnist

"Hollywood is worse than you ever imagined, and Hollywood, Interrupted pulls no punches. It would be depressing, if it weren't so hilarious."
Prof. Glenn Reynolds, InstaPundit.com Beauchamp Brogan Distinguished Professor of Law, University of Tennessee

Aus dem Klappentext

Praise for Hollywood, Interrupted

"This is a fun book!"
—Jon Stewart, The Daily Show

"This is a great book to read and a dangerous book to write. Breitbart and Ebner can hide in my basement when the Powers that Be in Hollywood put out a contract on them."
—Jonah Goldberg, National Review

"One of America's greatest industries has become one of the most destructive. Hollywood, Interrupted describes the misogynist, pill-popping degenerates who now define American culture."
—Ann Coulter, bestselling author

"Half Hollywood Babylon III, half Book of Virtues, Breitbart and Ebner's juicy polemic does for Hollywood celebrities what Liar's Poker did for Wall Street investment bankers."
—Mickey Kaus, Slate magazine columnist

"Hollywood is worse than you ever imagined, and Hollywood, Interrupted pulls no punches. It would be depressing, if it weren't so hilarious."
—Prof. Glenn Reynolds, InstaPundit.com Beauchamp Brogan Distinguished Professor of Law, University of Tennessee

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Hollywood, Interrupted

John Wiley & Sons

Chapter One

A New Weird Order

Leggo My Ego!

Why do Hollywood stars, the most attractive, admired, and highly compensated citizens of the world, have families more screwed up than even the notoriety-driven mongrels loitering around the green room at the Jerry Springer show?

The short answer is ego. Insatiable ego. Constantly massaged ego. 24-hour-a-day concierge ego. 400-thread-count linen at the five-star luxury dog kennel ego. Trading in your prefame spouse for a world-class model ego.

Ego. Ego. Ego.

For every celebrity, by design and necessity, is a narcissist. The desire to become a star requires an incredible appetite for attention and approval. To achieve fame and its accoutrements takes laser-like focus, and a nearly commendable ability to stay self-centered in the service of the dream. Maintaining celebrity is a 24-hour-a-day process requiring a full-time staff to solidify the star's place at the top of the social pecking order. An impenetrable ring of "yes" creatures-including assistants, publicists, managers, agents, hair and make-up artists, stylists, lifestyle consultants, Pilates instructors, cooks, drivers, nannies, schedulers, and other assorted caretakers-work round-the-clock to feed the star's absurd sense of entitlement. Celebrities focus on the minutiae of self all the time-and they make sure that no distractions like airplane reservation snafus or colicky babies interrupt this singular focus. This often extremely lucrative self-obsession invariably becomes downright pathological.

That is why Los Angeles is a veritable triage center for psychiatry, and why the industry responds so well to Woody Allen's neurosis-driven films when the public at large barely registers his openings. It is also why psychiatry's arch-nemesis, Scientology, has made Hollywood central to its base of operations (more about the "church" of L. Ron Hubbard and its hold on Hollywood later!). The competition for the dollars of damaged celebrity souls is stiff-may the best man win, Freud or Hubbard.

Massive ego and narcissism may be the primary ingredients for achieving and maintaining Hollywood success, but they are also the number one cause of the grandiose foibles in their storied, disastrous personal lives. The full-time job of parenting requires absolute selflessness. In contrast, the full-time job of celebrity requires absolute selfishness. The two by definition do not naturally coexist. Yet, because of their fame, money, and social power, stars somehow think they can defy the odds and maintain a high level of professional success, and still raise healthy families in the process.

No wonder so much rotten fruit is hanging from the dysfunctional celebrity family tree.

Celebrity Bumfights

The exotic personal exploits of celebrities are fascinating to read about, and presumably to live through, but by all accounts Hollywood is not the proper environment to raise children. Divorce notwithstanding, Bruce Willis and Demi Moore (1987-2000) seemed to have their priorities straight when they moved to Hailey, Idaho, to raise their children. Sissy Spacek raised her kids in Virginia and has all but kissed the LA life goodbye. Sam Shepard and his life roommate Jessica Lange also opted for a simpler life for their family in Minnesota. Likewise, Michael J. Fox and actress wife Tracey Pollan share time at homes in rural Connecticut and Vermont.

"If we're [in L.A.] all the time, our life is about me. Our life is about my job or the way people react to me. Everywhere we go, businesses this, dinners that, lunches that. I don't want my family to be about me. I want it to be about us, and I can do that better here," Fox told USA Today Weekend in 1997. "I know what it's like to eat with the Queen of England. And it doesn't mean as much as sitting on the floor today with my kids."

These examples represent a small but hopeful trend toward celebrities pursuing a sense of normality for their kids-despite the odds against their parents being able to weather the storm away from the logical epicenter of their egos' home, Hollywood.

Sadly, a cottage industry has thrived in which the flotsam and jetsam of celebrity misbehavior, usually the offspring, air the family's dirty laundry in the pursuit of achieving something they never had growing up-a sense of self-worth-because their parents larger-than-life accomplishments and minute-to-minute needs too often eclipsed their own.

Books like Christina Crawford's Mommy, Dearest and the late Gary Crosby's Going My Own Way offered sensational, firsthand accounts into the family lives of Joan Crawford and Bing Crosby, proving that even in the industry's Golden Age, Hollywood idols did not make top-notch parents. Nor most likely do their own children, comfortable performing literary blindsides on their star parents in the pursuit of their own 15 minutes of fame. It's a vicious cycle. These stories took time to come out, usually not until after Mommy or Daddy entered the ranks of the dearly departed, and as postmortem tell-alls did not allow their famous parents much opportunity to wage a defense.

In the current Hollywood scene, it's not just the kids but also the parents publicly airing the secret family tittle-tattle, often in real time and for large sums of money. Celebrity reality television in the form of "The Osbournes" has expedited and streamlined the process by which celebrities share their innermost secrets and lay out their personal family turmoil. Waiting until the end of rehab to tell Stone Phillips about the road to hell and back is simply too late now.

While actor Jake Busey ("Shasta McNasty") is trying to make a name for himself in his father's erratic shadow, he must compete with dad's on-screen reality antics in "I'm with Busey." To sell the show, Comedy Central posits the born-again rehab alumnus as more unpredictable than Ozzy Osbourne. In an interview with Maxim magazine Gary Busey promotes the show by sharing his drugged-out low point: "I came home one day, took off my windbreaker and three bundles of cocaine fell to the floor. Well, my dog Chili, who has short hair, came in and lay on her back with her legs in the air and she rubbed all the cocaine on her back and side. So I got a straw and I started brushing back her hair and snorting where I saw the cocaine. Back, butt, side-not a spot was left. It took me 25 minutes to snort all the cocaine the dog had on her coat."

So transparent is the network suits' desire to chronicle the domestic meltdowns of the rich and famous, VH1 slated princess of the damned Liza Minnelli, daughter of Hollywood's most glamorous suicide, Judy Garland, along with her short-term wax show husband David Gest (2002-2003) to star in their own televised journey to hell. When Minnelli attempted to hijack "The Liza and David Show" and make it into an extended "Larry King Live Weekend," replete with old timers like Steve and Edie belting out standards around the bizarre couple's home piano, VH1 immediately dropped the idea. Dueling lawsuits between the parties ensued with personal details coming from both sides reminiscent of a divorce proceeding. If Minnelli couldn't realize that her path to career rebirth was...