What lures stars into politics?
By Michael Medved - USA TODAY
Arnold Schwarzenegger's gubernatorial campaign raises a series of fascinating questions, the most perplexing of all being why an international star of his stature would ever want to run in the first place. Why, in fact, have so many actors and actresses abandoned the original source of their fame and fortune to pursue chancy, grubby, often heart-breaking adventures in the electoral arena?
The answer reflects the insecurity that leads these luminaries to undergo the serious discomforts of politics in the hope that the world will take them more seriously.
Certainly, major celebrities would see few practical gains from running for office. On the most obvious level, if Arnold wins his race, the pay cut would be drastic. He received $30 million for Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines ; as governor of California he'd earn $175,000 -- so he'd need to serve more than 170 years to make up what he got from a single film. And he'd be prevented from working on future movie projects (including a promising new version of Westworld, yet another movie about killer robots).
Even worse, Schwarzenegger will find the skittish members of the legislature and the political press in Sacramento vastly less eager to indulge his whims and his will than the fawning yes-people who surround him in Hollywood. On every level, the Austrian Oak must prepare for a less comfortable, less glamorous life if transplanted to the state capital. The governor's mansion is far more modest than his Beverly Hills digs, and every detail of his daily schedule will receive painstaking evaluation by pundits and the public.
Other entertainment stars have gone through similar transformations, trading pampered celebrity lives for the unpredictable rough-and-tumble of practical politics:
* Ronald Reagan, of course, was a Republican governor of California who went through a painful defeat in the 1976 presidential race before winning four years later.
* In the 1940s, glamorous actress Helen Gahagan (the wife of acclaimed star Melvyn Douglas) served several terms in Congress, then lost a bruising California Senate race to Richard Nixon.
* Hollywood song-and-dance man George Murphy won a Senate seat in 1964, but failed ignominiously in his first bid for re-election.
* Former child star Shirley Temple lost her bid for a House seat, but singer Sonny Bono, Dukes of Hazard star Ben Jones and Love Boat stalwart Fred Grandy all won election to the House and earned their Capitol colleagues' respect.
Cynics might point out that none of these celebrities were at the height of their fame when they abandoned their entertainment careers, but it wouldn't be fair to characterize their decisions as the desperate maneuvers of has-been stars. Reagan remained a popular TV presence (General Electric Theatre, Death Valley Days) when he shifted his attention to campaigning for Barry Goldwater in '64 and running for governor in '66. Schwarzenegger's Terminator 3 represents his most successful film in years and has led producers to pursue him for future vehicles. In today's celebrity- and nostalgia-obsessed culture, with countless outlets on cable TV, the radio, night clubs and touring theater, even faded stars can secure abundant work without resorting to politics.
But such enterprises, while profitable financially, may not deliver a sense of satisfaction, leaving restless celebrities uncertain about the lasting worth of their endeavors. Actors and actresses, no matter how much their fans may admire them, crave constant validation. This leads to the fierce emphasis on every sort of public recognition, from the Oscar ceremonies to an ever-growing array of lesser prizes (Golden Globes, Emmys, MTV Awards, People's Choice Awards, Golden Satellite Awards, Screen Actors Guild Awards and so on.)
For many celebrities, securing the public's votes can prove even more reassuring than winning an election by members of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. When actress Sally Field responded to her second Oscar by declaring, ''You like me! You really, really like me!'' she revealed the hunger for popular encouragement that gnaws at many celebrities. If Schwarzenegger gets the chance to claim victory on election night in California, he probably won't quote Field, but his exultation would reflect the satisfaction of a similar need. He might feel proud of the professionalism behind Predator or Kindergarten Cop , but he can hardly claim that they profoundly enrich or influence the general culture. The job of governor, on the other hand, offers the chance to make a lasting impact on every citizen of the state.
Most Americans regard even those Hollywood performers they enjoy the most as fascinating but frivolous. No matter how much contempt or boredom our leading office holders might inspire, they influence our lives too obviously for anyone to call them irrelevant or insignificant.
This perspective helps explain another mystery about the phenomenon of actors pursuing public office: Why has the political bug never bitten the industry's most critically acclaimed performers? Stars such as Julia Roberts, Susan Sarandon, Dustin Hoffman, Barbra Streisand and Michael Douglas have plenty to say about public issues, but they don't look seriously at running for office. That's because such artistically celebrated stars already receive abundant confirmation that their work is significant, valuable, powerfully influential. They don't need election night victory parties or legislative triumphs to support the conviction that they play a serious role in our world.
For Schwarzenegger and other actor-politicians, on the other hand, playing parts as office holders may erase lingering doubts about the significance of what they do and, despite attendant inconveniences, may qualify as the most satisfying roles of their careers.
Film critic Michael Medved hosts a daily, nationally syndicated radio show focusing on the intersection of politics and pop culture. He is a member of USA TODAY's board of contributors.
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