Thesis: Throughout the history of celebrity culture, the theme of "Live Fast, Die Young" persists, contrasting the allure of fame with its pressures and the tragic consequences fueled by media obsession.
Got The Things I Wanted, It’s Just Not What I Imagined
We are not alone in the feeling of seeing your favorite celebrities or influencers online and saying “I wish that were me; I wish I had that life.” But artists are increasingly more transparent about the realities of fame, giving us an insight into how while it does have its rewards, it might not be everything we’ve ever dreamed of.
In "Making The Bed" from Olivia Rodrigo’s sophomore album Guts, she sings:
“They tell me that they love me like I’m some tourist attraction. They’re changing my machinery and I just let it happen. I got the things I wanted, it’s just not what I imagined.”
Similarly, in “The Lucky One” from Taylor Swift’s Red:
“And they tell you that you’re lucky, but you’re so confused. ‘Cause you don’t feel pretty, you just feel used.”
Becoming a pop star is a one-in-a-million feat, yet both artists question whether achieving their dreams is everything they had hoped for. Yes, they’re getting paid to do what they love—but at what cost? They risk being monetized not just for their talent but also based on how their 'fans' perceive them. Scrutiny from the public can also have an impact on the creative freedom they have within their work.
As Claudia Dayani writes in her article The Price of Stardom: How Fame Can Lead to the Ultimate Downfall, “As natural-born consumers, we have seen it all when it comes to celebrities. We've seen them lash out, break down, and seemingly go insane before our eyes.” In our celebrity culture, there is a collective tendency to fixate on the struggles or downfalls of public figures, sensationalizing their pain.
This phenomenon of and fascination with celebrity often overshadows the real life consequences of fame, tragically exemplified in the deaths of beloved celebrities at such a young age – such as Princess Diana, Liam Payne, Mac Miller, Lil Peep, Brittany Murphy, and Amy Winehouse.
A Cannon Sounds to Mark The Death of a Tribute
It’s 2012, and you’re on your way to see The Hunger Games, the first film adaptation of one of your favorite book series. Like many dystopian stories, The Hunger Games depicts a world where death is both distant and sensationalized.
On a recent rewatch of The Hunger Games, I was struck by how much death is portrayed, despite having seen it more than 20 times. While death is central to the plot, I’ve noticed that as I get older, I’m more focused on how the story downplays the significance of the tributes—these kids—dying.
Young tributes are forced to fight to the death, representing their districts and serving as symbols of society. There’s an excitement in rooting for the underdog, Katniss Everdeen, as you embody your own version of the Capitol’s audience, cheering her on. You may feel a sense of relief when Marvel or Glimmer from District One fall, yet feel utterly shattered when you hear the cannon sound that signifies Rue has died. As a teenager, you’re so focused on Katniss’s victory that you overlook the harsh reality: her survival comes at the expense of everyone else’s life.
The media, represented by the Capitol and President Snow, base their entire game on the hopes that viewers will pit tributes against one another. Those from Districts One and Two have trained their entire lives for the opportunity to flight and perform, even though few will survive.
This dissociative dynamic isn't confined to fictional characters; it mirrors our relationship with celebrities. On one end of the spectrum, when news breaks of a celebrity’s passing, fans may feel as if their friend has passed. Others may dissociate completely, viewing the death similarly to the demise of their favorite fictional character dying - painful, yet distant, since they didn’t know them in real life.
The Princess Diaries
There has long been a fascination with the British royal family. From fashion choices to family dynamics, the world is constantly yearning for a peek inside one of the most private families. Countless TV series, films, and even Broadway shows—such as The Crown, Spencer, and Diana—have sought to depict their inner thoughts. Princess Diana, often referred to as the “People’s Princess,” captivated global attention and redefined what it meant to be a public figure. She remains a symbol of how the pressures of fame—especially from the paparazzi—can lead to both personal turmoil and tragic consequences.
From the start of her relationship with The Prince of Wales to her infamous “revenge dress,” the world wanted a front row seat to Diana’s life. The public and media alike demanded answers to every question and assumption, watching her highs and lows unfold. The relentless royal expectations, combined with constant media attention, contributed to her mental health struggles and ultimately played a role in her death.
Diana’s life came to a tragic end at the age of 36 in a car accident while being chased by paparazzi. In the aftermath, the media frenzy only intensified. What does it say about us as a society that, even after a tragedy directly caused by our collective obsession, we still desired more?
Similar themes are reflected in Barbara Bourland’s novel The Force of Such Beauty. The protagonist, Caroline, a former Olympic marathoner, marries a prince and slowly comes to realize the dark reality of royal life. Once celebrated for her independence and strength, she begins to feel her light and personality dim within the rigid expectations of royalty.
Reflecting on her former self, Caroline says, “Once upon a time, I was the fastest woman on earth. I was extraordinary: a rising mountain and the tiger who jumped over it like it was nothing… When I think about that body, I’m homesick in the pit of my stomach. There is no word special enough to describe its singularity.” Her words capture the loss of autonomy and the yearning for self-determination she once had.
The lives of Princess Diana as well as Caroline in The Force of Such Beauty highlight the irreversible consequences of societal obsession with fame, as well as the scrutiny faced by women in the public eye.
Lights, Camera, Bitch, Smile, Even When You Wanna Die
The culture surrounding fame has made it nearly impossible for celebrities to live a normal life outside the public eye. There is constant pressure for them to always be at the top of their game, in full glam, and dressed to impress—often aiming for a spot on Vogue's best-dressed list. This scrutiny extends to every aspect of their lives, including their struggles with mental illness or addiction, which can become headline news.
Many celebrities have tragically passed away at a young age due to drug overdoses. Cory Monteith, known for his role as Finn Hudson on the popular series Glee, seemed to lead the perfect life. He had a leading role in a popular TV show, he was dating his co-star Lea Michele, and was beloved by fans. Surprising the masses, Cory Monteith passed away at the age of 31 from combined heroin and alcohol toxicity. This shocking news revealed the hidden struggles he was going through.
With the accessibility of media, parasocial relationships have become common, but it’s impossible for fans to know everything about a celebrity’s private battles. Some, like Demi Lovato, openly share their struggles, while others, like Monteith, keep them to themselves. Recognizing that public figures are more than their personas may help shift the narrative surrounding fame. This awareness could, perhaps, counteract the “Live Fast, Die Young” mentality that has impacted celebrities—and, in many ways, society as a whole.
Study Questions
1. How does the media hype (or totally twist) our perceptions of celebrities, and what kind of impact does that have on their mental health? Are we just spectators—or a little more responsible for the chaos?
2. We’re all obsessed with celeb glow-ups and meltdowns—what does that say about what we actually value as a society? Can we shift the way we think about the lives and losses of the icons we love?
3. Is there a reason we get so attached to fictional characters and celebs alike? How does the pressure of fame and public scrutiny influence the movies, books, and media we can’t get enough of?