Abstract
This article combines framing analysis and critical textual analysis in a qualitative investigation of the ways in which popular culture texts, in particular articles in Australian women's magazines, frame transnational celebrity activism. Using three recent case studies of commercial representations of popular female celebrities – Nicole Kidman in Marie Claire (Australia), Angelina Jolie in Vogue (Australia) and Emma Watson in Cleo (Australia) – this study dissects framing devices to reveal the discursive tensions which lie beneath textual constructions of celebrity humanitarianism. Through a focus on United Nations Women's Goodwill Ambassadors, and their exemplary performances of popular humanitarianism, I argue that feminist celebrity activists may inadvertently contradict the cause of global gender equality by operating within the limits of celebrity publicity images and discourses. Moreover, the deployment of celebrity women, who have built their vast wealth and global influence through the commodification of Western ideals of beauty and femininity, betrays an approach to humanitarianism, which is grounded in the intersection of neocolonial global capitalism, liberal feminism and the ethics of competitive individualism.
Fame and the frame game
Public relations (PR) is essentially about framing, or (re)defining an issue, in a particular way to suit a particular agenda (Hallahan, 1999). Media frames also define social problems and their potential solutions in ways that influence public opinion (Entman, 1993; Kogen, 2015; Severin and Tankard, 1997; Tuchman, 1978). Although much important work has already been done on the intertwining of celebrity and politics (Louw, 2010; Repo and Yrjola, 2011; Street, 2004; Volcic and Erjavec, 2015; Yrjola, 2011), there has been relatively little framing analysis of how this occurs through the selection and arrangement of textual features in women's magazines. The increasing visibility of UN Women celebrity ambassadors, including Emma Watson in the 2014 HeForShe campaign and Nicole Kidman in the 2016 FaceItTogether campaign, across digital and print media, suggests this is an important and timely topic. As we shall see, these UN Women celebrity ambassadors call for global gender equality, while simultaneously profiting immensely from gendered norms and feminine stereotypes in their ‘day jobs’ as corporate brand ambassadors. Moreover, through the commercial PR packaging of humanitarian celebrity, female audiences are being sold not just a PR-ised version of feminist activism, but a particular, privileged, white and Western interpretation of ideal femininity and heteronormativity.
In a critical examination of the selection and arrangement of graphics and textual features (see Entman, 1993; Severin and Tankard, 1997), common themes emerge in the coverage of humanitarian celebrity in women's magazines, which exclude the voices of marginalised women and over-emphasise wealthy, white celebrities as contemporary female role models (especially through the strategic deployment of liberal feminist stock phrases and keywords). In the process, complex issues such as domestic violence, global migration and global gender inequality are (mis)represented within a mass market-oriented framework of celebrity promotions and publicity. As we shall see, framing devices may include ‘advanced organisers’ like headlines, paragraph leads and pull quotes, which determine the weight assigned to possible interpretations of the text (Severin and Tankard, 1997: 321). As Entman (1993: 52) suggests, media framing may promote a particular moral evaluation of events, guiding the receiver's thinking in casual and subtle ways through the presence (or absence) of commonly invoked key words and stereotyped images. Media frames shape the relationship between Western citizens and foreign ‘others’, influencing the political engagement of Western audiences with foreign humanitarian issues (see Kogen, 2015: 4).
As Engle (2012) observed in her critical examination of the 2007 UN Action Against Sexual Violence campaign, the kind of activism which centres on celebrities (and their followers) circulating their own images, may in effect deny citizenship and agency to those whom it purports to save. As Chouliaraki (2012) points out in her analysis of humanitarian celebrity as a communicative structure, such emphasis on image, spectacle and theatre encourages a connection with the crusading celebrity, which does not necessarily translate into real political action or social change (see also McClintock, 2009). The textual construction and dissemination of the humanitarian celebrity exemplifies the discursive process whereby all questions of moral and social responsibility are collapsed into the realm of the personal and personalities (see also Mohanty, 2013). As this study will show, the landscape and language of celebrity publicity, and the mixed messages of female celebrity activism, presuppose moral-political evaluations which work to legitimate and reproduce the economic and cultural power of Western elites. As Entman (1993: 55) puts it, a textual frame is actually an ‘imprint of power’, which reflects the ‘boundaries of discourse over an issue’: ‘Thus the power of a frame can be as great as that of language itself’.
Manufacturing celebrity ‘News’: The United Nations PR push
Since the late 1990s, the United Nations (UN) and its agencies have increasingly utilised celebrity ‘Goodwill Ambassadors’ to draw media attention and raise funds for global causes (Scott, 2011; Volcic and Erjavec, 2015; Wheeler, 2011). In particular, UN Women has increasingly recruited female celebrity ambassadors (and their publicists) to raise awareness of gender issues and promote global gender equality through PR driven communication strategies and tactics (see UN Women, 2016). This cultural shift has created pseudo political positions for entertainment celebrities like female actors, pop stars and supermodels (Scott, 2011; Wheeler, 2011). It has also created new content for uncritical soft ‘news’ features about global issues in contemporary mass market women's magazines; pushing the plight of marginalised women and children in the Global South into the contemporary Western media mix of celebrity motherhood, celebrity marriages and the advertising of fashion and beauty products.
The United Nations is not alone, of course, in cultivating closer relationships with the world of PR, and celebrity publicity, in particular. As Davies (2009: 69) points out, both tabloid and mainstream media organisations have been fundamentally altered and compromised by the rise of PR, as much contemporary journalism collapses into ‘churnalism’, ‘clickbait’ and celebrity trivia. Under growing pressure to select stories with speed and commerce in mind, journalists in the popular media are pushed to recycle PR press releases, which in turn complicated, confrontational, ‘depressing’ or ‘boring’ stories about foreign others, into simple, ‘sexy’, ‘safe’ and ‘saleable’ celebrity news (Davies, 2009: 147). As we shall see, global issues of mass migration, gendered violence and economic inequality are reimagined, in Western women's magazines, as narratives of celebrity intervention, celebrity lifestyle and celebrity self-actualisation. Beneath the glossy surfaces of women's magazines and celebrity interviews, and through their mutual dependence on corporate advertisers and celebrity publicity, the suffering of foreign ‘others’ is made not just palatable, but profitable, for Western elites. While it is not surprising that fashion magazines ‘go soft’ on the fashion and beauty industries (Davies, 2009: 14), it is perversely ironic that fashion models and movie stars are now packaged as icons of ‘global gender equality’. As Davies (2009: 152) points out, PR is primarily a tool which enables the already powerful, to push their line, logic and (typically conservative) values. The female celebrity ambassador is not actually politically neutral – rather, she reflects and reproduces the gendered power relations of Western patriarchal capitalism. The celebrity humanitarian is not the incontestable ideal of global female empowerment – rather, she embodies, in the stories, angles and artifice of her PR packages, a narrow set of political and moral assumptions about what it means to be a ‘good’ (wealthy, attractive, cosmopolitan) modern woman. As we shall see, the United Nations and its agencies, mass market women's magazines and fashion and beauty industries are invested in this process of shaping public opinion by styling the celebrity elite in the virtues of cosmopolitan humanitarianism and liberal feminism.
Assisted by the now common PR appropriation of ‘inspiring’ liberal feminist narratives about ‘compassionate’ stars who are ‘living their dreams’, ‘breaking through barriers’ and ‘raising their voice’ for the oppressed poor (see Cleo, 2015; Cooney-Carrillo, 2016; Giovanni, 2015), celebrity elites now commonly and confidently speak on behalf of other less privileged women, in the West and around the World. Yet, as Scott (2011) and Finlay (2011) point out, there is no democratic mechanism for the well-intended celebrity ambassador to be dismissed by the oppressed poor she supposedly represents. As Volcic and Erjavec (2015: 262) put it, the celebrity ambassador may appear to represent a ‘post-democratic order’ of ‘post-political politics’.
The PR packaging of the female celebrity ambassador also rests upon the narrow self-interest and false universalising assumptions of white Western feminism, as previously critiqued by postcolonial feminist scholars, such as Chandra Talpade Mohanty (1988, 2003, 2013), Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak (1993) and bell hooks (1992). Perhaps, it is not that the celebrity ambassador empowers marginalised ‘others’, but rather that the marginalised others are used to empower the celebrity, and to further enhance her fame, fortune and socio-political legitimacy.
Moreover, by presenting the most affluent, privileged and visible of women as humanitarian ambassadors, the popular media promotes and protects global capitalist values and the hegemony of neoliberalism. As Mohanty (2003, 2013) suggests, the rise of neoliberalism, aligned with increased privatisation and political shifts to the right over the past two decades, has brought new challenges for feminists. These challenges include the popular cultural appropriation of the language of feminism by high profile fashion models, popstars and Hollywood actors. Interviews with UN celebrity ambassadors in women's magazines are not just about seeing the world through ‘Western eyes’ (see Mohanty 1988, 2003), they are also about looking up to the celebrity women at the top of a classed, gendered and racialised hierarchy. Invoking the oppressed and exotic other, to sell celebrities, fashion and films, not only provides fresh content for consumer culture, it helps to legitimate an unequal, unjust system – in the name of ‘global gender equality’. The shallow appropriation of feminism on offer from sexy celebrity ambassadors is typically the kind of feminism which has converged with neoliberal culture and economics; a ‘privatized politics’ which promotes individual agency and business acumen as the answer to humanitarian issues (see Mohanty, 2013: 972). On another level, the work of celebrity ambassadors suggests the politics of Western democracies have become ‘so enmeshed with professional communication and spin industry that democracy itself has become PR-ized’ (see Louw, 2010: 216). As we shall see, while UN Women celebrities, and the publicists and journalists that represent them, may succeed in raising Western awareness of global gender issues, their interpretations of femininity, empowerment, success and self-growth, reinforce a neoliberal logic, which may ultimately reaffirm intersectional oppression across the lines of gender, race and class.
Nicole Kidman: The ‘Aussie girl’ celebrity advocate
Even by ‘soft news’ standards, which require human interest angles rather than investigative reporting (Tuchman, 1978), the most recent Marie Claire (Australia) article by Cooney-Carrillo (2016) on the humanitarian work of Australian actor Nicole Kidman, pushes the PR-isation of celebrity activism to a peak moment. The ‘news’ angle of the feature is apparently the ‘10th anniversary’ of Kidman's involvement with UN Women as a Goodwill Ambassador and her most recent work as the ‘name and face’ of the UN Women Faceittogether campaign against domestic and sexual violence in the Pacific (Cooney-Carrillo, 2016: 107). The celebrity humanitarian angle is legitimated in part through reference to statements from officials and experts (in itself a framing device) including a large type, pull out quote graphic from Nanette Braun (cited in Cooney-Carrillo, 2016: 113), advocacy chief with UN Women in New York: ‘Nicole has been invaluable in helping us raise awareness on the discrimination women and girls still face around the world’. The largest images which accompany the text are mostly the stereotyped images and poses of ideal, glamourous, ‘cover girl’ femininity, as demonstrated by model/actor multimillionaire Nicole Kidman (indeed Kidman also features on the cover of this issue alongside the text ‘Get inspired!’). There are close parallels with the dominant editorial images in the Marie Claire feature article on Nicole Kidman as UN Women ambassador and Nicole Kidman's seductive-but-powerful poses in advertisements (as the ‘global ambassador’ for Etihad Airways) featured in the same and similar magazines (see Ironside, 2015).
A face for a cause
Significantly, the UN campaign Kidman is fronting is a ‘visual petition’, which encourages women to upload a ‘selfie’ or photo self-portrait online, as a statement against gendered violence. Readers are assured that they too can be the face of a cause: ‘this campaign is about donating your face, not just your money – although basically we need the money too’ (Kidman cited in Cooney-Carrillo, 2016: 111). As digital activism, or ‘clicktivism’, such campaigns allow followers to express solidarity at a safe distance, without deeply engaging with the complicated or dangerous reality of activism on the ground (see Engle, 2012). As Huliaras and Tzifakis (2011) have suggested, such celebrity led campaigns which aim to ‘raise awareness’ of social issues do not improve public understanding of that issue if they do not address the social, cultural, political and economic causes of the problem. Although undoubtedly well-intended, the women's magazine framing of the humanitarian activism of Nicole Kidman reveals more about the convergence of liberal feminist and neoliberal discourses in the promotion of female celebrities, than it does about the root causes of violence against women.
Although there is mention of her humanitarian work as a legitimating device, the focus of the article ‘Nicole’ is clearly the celebrity herself, her life narrative, her relationships and her current commercial projects (films and television miniseries). In the PR-isation of humanitarianism, the language of liberal feminism is deployed to sell the celebrity brand and her cultural products – despite occasionally awkward, unconvincing appeals to feminist authenticity which attempt to link acting to activism: ‘Billy Ray, who directed Kidman in the 2015 drama, Secret in Their Eyes, knows what makes her such an extraordinary actor, but his comments could just as easily apply to why she's such an effective advocate for women’ (Cooney-Carrillo, 2016: 111 – emphasis added). Kidman is then praised for being a powerful woman with a ‘kitten-like softness’ – qualities which are apparently useful for female global ambassadors. The liberal feminist discourse reassures readers that, while Kidman is a successful business woman she, ‘still loves holding babies’ and (at 48), still meets dominant Western cultural ideals of ‘sexy’, slender, white femininity (see Cooney-Carrillo, 2016: 112). A common subtheme in soft news articles on the feminine humanitarian celebrity is the idea that she is ‘ageing well’ (see also LaWare and Moutsatsos, 2013) – in other words, old enough to invoke the discourse of universal motherhood and heteronormativity combined with corporate career success, but not so old as to be unattractive to the capitalist patriarchy.
The women's magazine journalist appears to be ‘on message’ with the Kidman publicity push, from the title of the article, (‘Nicole’) which positions the actor on the same first-name-only basis of celebrity elites such as Madonna and Cher, to other framing devices which build the celebrity brand and reinforce her iconic status. Large type, pull out quotes which emphasise gender advocacy, ‘If we don't band together as women to help each other, we won't move forward (Kidman cited in Cooney-Carrillo, 2016: 110)’ are balanced by paragraph leads and pull quotes, which draw attention to her heterosexual romantic relationship (‘made for each other’) with country music star Keith Urban: ‘I’m there for Keith and he's there for me…’ (Kidman cited in Cooney-Carrillo, 2016: 110). Hence, key words in the text, like ‘women's rights’ and ‘feminism’ are also diluted by frequent fawning reference to Kidman's apparent exemplary success in the traditional, heterosexual gendered roles of sex object, wife and mother. As with representations of other UN female celebrity diplomats, like Anne Hathaway (see Conlon, 2016), Victoria Beckham (see Beckham, 2016) and Angelina Jolie (see Giovanni, 2015), the narrative emphasises that the multi-tasking, jet-setting modern woman is still first and foremost a mother: ‘So we literally flew there, met them backstage, went to a show and then rushed back home to the girls’ (Kidman cited in Cooney-Carrillo, 2016: 108).
The mobile elite of global gender equality
Presumably in an attempt to resonate with readers and build the relationship between the celebrity and her fans, the Marie Claire (Australia) article uses paragraph leads and other textual framing devices to remind us that Nicole Kidman is an ‘Aussie girl’ (see Cooney-Carrillo, 2016: 108). At the same time, the aspirational angle (‘get inspired!’) also implicitly reminds readers that Kidman, as a transnational celebrity activist, has the money and mobility rights to fly around the world in pursuit of work and leisure – a luxury the disadvantaged women in the Pacific region she represents presumably do not share. Indeed, the dark and disempowered others implied in this master narrative about the female celebrity ambassador, apparently have no voice or purpose except to mark out the celebrity star as (even more) desirable and deserving. This discursive process calls to mind the bell hooks thesis on ‘eating the other’, or, how the dark other is swallowed, (mis)used and absorbed by mainstream white culture, ‘as a way to make themselves over’. Significantly, hooks (1992) discerns the essentially imperialist nostalgia in first world white women who are free to ‘roam the world, making contact’, with the oppressed poor, highlighting their own liberation, and telling stories that primarily focus on white people for white audiences. Although it may come in the guise of ‘helping others’, it is by ‘eating the other’ that one ultimately asserts her power and privilege (see hooks, 1992).
With the possible exception of Emma Watson, it is difficult to imagine a more striking example of white, middle class, hegemonic femininity than ‘regal redhead’ Nicole Kidman, who rose to global celebrity status after marrying American actor Tom Cruise and adopting two children in the 1990s (see Rafanelli, 2017). As is often the case with UN Women celebrity ambassadors, taking on the role of speaking for more marginalised women has helped to confirm that Kidman's celebrity status is on the rise again (see Cooney-Carrillo, 2016). As is also often the case with celebrity ‘global gender equality’ ambassadors, her media representations in women's magazines appear to be a jarring juxtaposition of potentially empowering and potentially oppressive meanings and messages for other women (see Cooney-Carrillo, 2016; Rafanelli, 2017; Tedmanson, 2017). The largest images of Kidman in the Marie Claire feature (purportedly about women's rights) depict the actor/model in hyper-feminine supermodel poses (head tilted/hair touching/bare shoulders/coy glances and half-smiles) that might seem somewhat ridiculous if performed by a male celebrity diplomat (except perhaps in the comedy-satire context of the film Zoolander). While declaring herself ‘deeply maternal’, celebrated for her ‘sensitivity to others’, and promoting her latest film as a ‘love letter to my children’, Kidman is frequently pictured with lips and blouse parted, displaying designer dresses and lingerie with a supermodel stare (see Rafanelli, 2017; Tedmanson, 2017). The implicit message for female readers seems to be that Kidman enjoys the legitimated status of a global gender equality ambassador mostly because she is beautiful, attractive to men and commercially successful in entertainment industries – not because she has in-depth knowledge or lived experience of the gendered violence experienced by marginalised women. It soon becomes clear that this soft news item is not so much about a social gender issue, as a PR opportunity to showcase a celebrity – and on stereotypically gendered terms, as wife, mother and sex object. While domestic violence in Australia is certainly a pervasive national crisis in need of intervention and reform (see Australian Bureau of Statistic (ABS), 2012; Henry and Powell, 2016; Special Taskforce on Domestic and Family Violence in Queensland (STDFVQ), 2015), celebrity advocacy is not necessarily the solution. It may in fact be part of the problem. Indeed, recent Australian research suggests the reproduction of traditional gender roles is one of the root causes of domestic and sexual violence against women (STDFVQ, 2015). It is common to the PR-isation of humanitarianism that the deeper causes of global social issues are left out of the textual frame (see Cleo, 2015; Cooney-Carrillo, 2016; Giovanni, 2015). Framing analysis teaches us, however, that what is excluded from the text is just as important as the arrangement of elements within the text, in terms of revealing inherent assumptions and prejudices (see Kogen, 2015: 8).
Global ambassadors for fashion
Kidman is praised in the Marie Claire (Australia) article as ‘a voice of compassion’ (Cooney-Carrillo, 2016: 111), who has ‘lead with her heart’ (Cooney-Carrillo, 2016: 112), reflecting the now common trend in celebrity diplomacy of delivering emotional language (and women's emotional labour) as part of the ‘domestication’ of the UN mission (see Chouliaraki, 2012; Volcic and Erjavec, 2015; Wheeler, 2011). The strategic framing of celebrity activists as emotional diplomats also reinforces the traditional stereotype of women as the emotional sex and the embodiment of domesticity. It also reinforces the erroneous assumption in popular consciousness that privileged white celebrity motherhood is naturally linked to compassion for women and children in the Global South – especially in the case of stars like Angelina Jolie and Nicole Kidman, who are at least as well known for the adoption of children (with Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise) as for their cinematic performances (see Giovanni, 2015; Rafanelli, 2017; Tedmanson, 2017). Indeed, in a recent Vogue (Australia) cover story, Kidman (cited in Tedmanson, 2017) declares her latest moral-political mission to ‘change the perception of adoption’, while simultaneously performing her corporate mission of modelling in nine different designer outfits (for Alexander McQueen, Christian Dior, Saint Laurent and Louis Vuitton). Nicole Kidman is also framed in the Marie Claire (Australia) article as an authoritative voice for other women, although her only relevant qualifications appear to be as a fashion model and ‘Oscar-winning actress’. There is no mention of how the fashion/beauty industries, which support magazines like Marie Claire, Cleo and Vogue, actually rely on and reproduce divisions between women – that difficult question is also outside the frame. Similarly, there is no acknowledgement of the irony of ambassadors for global equality, promoting the kind of designer fashion which is an indicator of class privilege (see Bourdieu, 1984). Celebrity ambassadors, like Nicole Kidman and Angelina Jolie, offer their famous names for ‘global equality’ communication campaigns, while simultaneously using their celebrity lifestyles and ways of dressing the body to display and reproduce inequality (see Bourdieu, 1984). Overall, the increasing recruitment of female actors (over more qualified experts) suggests UN Women and other agencies may be preoccupied with PR packaging in a fashion that ultimately undermines their own core mission and message. As (mis)representations of ‘gender equality’ are picked up, personified and played out in mass market women's magazines and entertainment publicity, not only are celebrity ambassadors severely constrained in how they raise awareness, they are also at risk of contradicting their own cause.
With the universalising, simplistic call for women to ‘band together’, ambassador Kidman does not draw attention to the significant role of race, class and age in women's experience of gendered violence (see Crenshaw, 1995), and neither does she acknowledge her own class-specific position in the context of patriarchal capitalism. To do so, of course, might risk alienating some audiences or disrupt her mass commercial appeal and hence would be presumably against the advice of her professional PR communicators, publicists and script writers. Audiences and fans may never really know how far a celebrity's diplomatic statements are carefully managed by PR minders outside the frame or ‘behind the scenes’, as professional communicators are, of course, careful not to bite the industry hand that feeds them. Although it must be acknowledged that the journalist too is bound by frames that are ‘organizationally and professionally produced’ (Tuchman, 1978: 217), it seems in this case study the journalist is complicit in maximising the commercial appeal of the humanitarian celebrity, in particular through the contradictory deployment of liberal feminist discourses for commercial ends.
As PR increasingly overtakes and redefines journalism, and market values overwhelm news values (see Davies, 2009), the popular media is increasingly beholden to celebrities and the corporate brands they promote. As more model/actress celebrities, like Australian Nicole Kidman, take a turn with the role of UN Women Goodwill Ambassador, even complex issues of gender violence come to be filtered through the pages of women's magazines, interwoven with the promotion of fashion and beauty industries (see Cooney-Carrillo, 2016; Daily Mail Australia, 2014; Giovanni, 2015). Celebrity culture, beauty industries and glossy women's magazines are intricately linked in their promotion of virtually unattainable standards of perpetual youth, beauty and wealth, which may in the long term be damaging to women and girls as a group (see Evans and Riley, 2013; LaWare and Moutsatsos, 2013; Wolf, 1991). Yet, the modern female celebrity's ‘godlike’ persona (Evans and Riley, 2013) may now be reinforced with (pseudo) moral legitimacy through the performance of celebrity humanitarianism and the status of global gender equality ambassador.
Angelina Jolie: The hyperreal humanitarian
Chouliaraki (2012) argues that American actor Angelina Jolie represents the peak of contemporary celebrity humanitarianism and its intensification of hyper-celebritisation and entrepreneurial moralism. Moreover, Chouliaraki (2012: 17) suggests Jolie's approach is actually post-humanitarian for, ‘it encourages a narcissistic disposition of voyeuristic altruism rather than commitment to the humanitarian cause’. This is particularly evident in news images of Jolie, in her role as special envoy for the UN High Commissioner for Refugees, which invite spectators to look upon the celebrity, as she looks upon the suffering of foreign others in refugee camps (see ABC News, 2016). Such images recall specters McClintock (2009: 65) refers to as ‘paradigmatic of postmodern imperialism’, or a visual archive of suffering, ‘photography and forgetting’, which allows privileged viewers to look and look away at the same time (without asking the deeper questions about the historical context of colonial cruelty and violence). Such images, or ‘seductions of spectacle’, may present the female celebrity humanitarian as the (benign and beautiful) bearer of moral and cultural superiority, while simultaneously disguising the ugly realities of gender and racial power (see also McClintock, 2009). Hence, in this new iconography of empire, the Western, ‘empowered’ woman is strategically positioned alongside the props of ghosted and vulnerable others, in rituals of legitimacy, supported (rather than exposed) by a ‘complicit corporate media’ (see McClintock, 2009: 52). As Davies (2009: 167) notes, ‘the best PR conceals its own hand’ by presenting celebrity stories as ‘pseudo-news’ through staged photo opportunities, which serve the commercial and political interests of elites.
In their innovative analysis of both interpretations of and responses to Angelina Jolie and her film In the Land of Blood and Honey, Volcic and Erjavec (2015: 359) observe that while the Hollywood sex symbol has transformed her image through the role of UN celebrity ambassador, ‘her work is ultimately a part of a politics of entertainment’, which reinforces the status quo: ‘Despite all their apparent freedom and cultural power, even Hollywood celebrities find their hands tied by their own commitments and the dictates of the commercial cultural in which they operate’ (Volcic and Erjavec, 2015: 373). Currently, that commercial popular culture, particularly in women's magazines and entertainment publicity, is suffused with a heady mix of heterosexual power couples, liberal feminism, celebrity motherhood and celebrity activism (see Beckham, 2016; Cooney-Carrillo, 2016; Giovanni, 2015; Rafanelli, 2017). Although Jolie has also been a vocal advocate of non-mainstream LGBTQ (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transsexual, queer) rights, and at the time of writing has filed for divorce from actor husband Brad Pitt, over the past 10 years, Jolie has also changed the face of transnational humanitarian work, by deploying her mainstream beauty, relationships and celebrity to, ‘call attention to the plight of refugees and the underprivileged’ (see ABC News, 2016). While the equally famous power-mother Victoria Beckham (see Beckham, 2016) now looks set to take the title of penultimate UN Celebrity ‘it girl’ (or global goodwill ambassador), the mediated representation of Jolie as a peak moment in celebrity humanitarianism (see Chouliaraki, 2012) deserves further textual analysis. In particular, a framing analysis (see Entman, 1993; Severin and Tankard, 1997; Tuchman, 1978) of a recent Giovanni (2015) article on Angelina Jolie, from women's magazine Vogue (Australia), captures a telling moment of feminine humanitarian celebrity which illustrates these themes.
The very title of the Vogue (Australia) article ‘Crusader’ presupposes a ‘moral evaluation’ (see Entman, 1993: 52) of Jolie as a heroic individual fighting for a ‘good’ cause with missionary zeal. The beginning paragraph in large type emphasises: ‘She's a newlywed mother of six, a superstar with little trace of diva, a woman who bears witness to the terrible things people do even as she continues to celebrate the human spirit’ (Giovanni, 2015: 132). In this treatment of the humanitarian project as a soft news story, there is no detail on ‘the terrible things people do’ and no explanation of why ‘people’ might do ‘terrible things’ in certain economic and socio-political contexts. The pull quote extracted from the article and set in capitals and large type reads: ‘In reference to the many female refugees she meets she says: “I don't know why this is my life and that's hers”’. Although this is an opportunity for Jolie to voice her famous empathy for refugees in the Global South (see Chouliaraki, 2012; Volcic and Erjavec, 2015; Wheeler, 2011), it is also a lost opportunity to explain the historical, imperial and colonial conditions that construct unequal life choices and chances for women around the world. It also skirts around the more controversial and timely question of Western treatment of refugees. The apparent problem presented in this media frame is rather, a collection of depoliticised, random and unpredictable events, with innocent ‘witness’ Jolie as the heroic, individual solution. A ‘hard news’ investigation of the question Jolie herself proposes about the differences in women's life chances around the world, might have, for example, compared Jolie's net worth (approximately $200 million) with the average income of the women she represents, or perhaps even provide a critical investigation of how the source of her wealth (film/fashion/beauty industries) is implicated in the reproduction of gender inequality. These challenging questions, however, remain firmly outside the frame of contemporary coverage of female celebrity humanitarianism in mainstream women's magazines.
Corporate crusader
As is often the case in these women's magazine accounts of humanitarian celebrity (and as previously discussed in relation to Nicole Kidman), much is made in the Vogue (Australia) article of the ‘jet-setting’ lifestyle of the glamourous Hollywood superstar Angelina Jolie – perpetually on the move ‘around the globe!’ – and how this now includes African tours or field missions: ‘She actually looks cheerful, despite the fact that she has flown 12,000 kilometers’ (Giovanni, 2015: 138). The almost obscene contrast between the privileged global mobility and transnational power of the celebrity elite and the experience of increasing numbers of migrants and refugees who are effectively excluded from such mobility rights and citizenship protection is not adequately addressed in these accounts – even in accounts purportedly about advocating for refugees. Although there is a large text, capital type pull quote on how, as the special envoy of the United Nations high commissioner for refugees, ‘JOLIE PREPS THROUGHLY FOR HER HUMANITARIAN MISSIONS, GETTING BRIEFED BY TRUSTED ADVISERS AT THE UN…’ there is little discussion of the economic and political context that drives people in the Global South to migrate in the first place. Moreover, there are no images of actual migrants or refugees in the Vogue (Australia) feature. Instead, the pull quote is pasted on a double page glamour photo image of Jolie reclining in a revealing, designer brand ‘La Perla’ robe. Despite her good intentions, the focus of the PR-ised story is clearly the celebrity herself, as a corporate brand, for corporate advertisers, while the people she purports to save are pushed outside the frame.
An opportunistic corporate PR agenda runs through this Vogue (Australia) article, purportedly about celebrity activism, making it clear Jolie has a movie to promote, as well as a ‘life message’ about finding her purpose through helping distant, foreign others. Here again, the magazine journalist seems to be running ‘on side’ with the publicist/PR message, to the point of forcing a rather awkward connection between civil wars in the Global South and Jolie's film about Westerners in World War II: It was hardly a stretch for Jolie to take on a story as historically complex and politically nuanced as Unbroken. Conflict, battle and the trauma brought on by war are familiar subjects to Jolie, the special envoy of the United Nations high commissioner for refugees (UNHCR). (Giovanni, 2015: 132)
Although the article does follow in some depth Jolie's long career trajectory toward leading campaigns as a United Nation ambassador, which includes her various humanitarian visits to Africa, there is comparatively little discussion of the experience of those who have supposedly benefited from the charity of such Western elites. There is rarely any image or in-depth discussion of distant suffering victims in such women's magazine features on humanitarian celebrity, perhaps for fear of interrupting the ‘guilty pleasures’ of romance, consumerism, beauty and financial success, which dominate and frame these accounts. All mention of Jolie's humanitarian mission is grounded within the dominant presence of stereotyped images, gendered norms, traditional roles and stock phrases, which reinforce ideal, glamourous and heterosexual femininity (primary roles which have made American actor Angelina Jolie a multimillionaire). The focus is on Jolie herself as a successful career woman, wife and mother: ‘Like any mother, she puts herself in the place of women who are stranded in refugee camps or who have lost their children’ (Giovanni, 2015: 135). This framing of Jolie's humanitarianism fits with what Chouliaraki (2012) has termed ‘politics as pity’, with its discursive claims to ‘universal’ motherhood and consistent focus on the personality and emotions of the celebrity. Indeed, the article draws a contrast between Jolie who ‘becomes tearful – and is not ashamed of it’ and other ‘officials or envoys’ who do not share emotions theatrically. It seems that these other faceless officials or envoys (presumably less likeable, middle-aged or less photogenic) are invoked to remind the reader that the morally superior celebrity ambassador is apparently not ‘bogged down’ in theory or slowed down by political science qualifications, but rather leads with her ‘gut feelings’. Similarly, while Australian women's magazines present positive images of the celebrity humanitarian, with an emphasis on her model femininity, model motherhood and domestic role (see Cooney-Carrillo, 2016; Giovanni, 2015; Rafanelli, 2017), there is inadequate acknowledgment of the suffering of the biological mother, for example, of Jolie's adopted child from Ethiopia. In the PR created packaging of celebrity humanitarianism, potentially embarrassing or depressing realities are apparently suppressed or ignored to protect the profit-seeking interests of mutually dependent magazines, celebrities and advertisers.
As with the Marie Claire packaging of Nicole Kidman, the Vogue framing of Angelina Jolie provides a layer of liberal feminist rhetoric (about an empowered individual overcoming challenges and enjoying career success) before emphasising conservative, heterosexual and traditional ‘family’ values in large type, capital font, pull out quotes: ‘IT FEELS NICE TO BE HUSBAND AND WIFE’ (Jolie cited in Giovanni, 2015: 135). Moreover, as with the Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban alliance, the celebrity ‘power couple’ angle of Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt was a theme journalists, publicists and other spin doctors pushed hard in their coverage of the celebrity humanitarian, thereby reinforcing the conservative idea that a successful, empowered woman must also be sexy, attractive to powerful men or married to powerful men. Even as Jolie's divorce is currently overshadowing her humanitarian work, both mainstream and tabloid media continue to define the public identity of the celebrity ambassador through the discourse of motherhood and heteronormativity. Both Angelina Jolie and Nicole Kidman (and their publicists) have played to this popular and increasingly pervasive convergence of celebrity motherhood and celebrity humanitarianism, with the suggestion that the experience of being both biological and adoptive mothers provides them with particular insights, maternal skills and intensity of emotion in their public work (see Cooney-Carrillo, 2016; Giovanni, 2015; Rafanelli, 2017). Presumably, this apparently transformative ‘force of maternal passion’ and ‘power of maternal love’ (see Rafanelli, 2017) increasingly celebrated in celebrity culture, as a marker of both successful heteronormativity and moral superiority, is not equally accessible for single, childless or less visible women. Moreover, this kind of celebrity mothers without borders discourse, which is increasingly informing popular cultural definitions of humanitarianism, may effectively depoliticise and domesticate activism. As Mohanty (2013) has pointed out, in a privatised, neoliberal context, political agency is increasingly disconnected from deeper critiques of colonialism and heteropatriarchy, and reduced to an act of consumption and individual experience, ‘what happens to the key feminist construct of “the personal is political” when the political (the collective public domain of politics) is reduced to the personal?’ What happens is that questions about systematic exploitation are not asked, less powerful voices are not heard and complex socio-political issues are pushed out of the mediated frame (see also Mohanty, 2013).
Designer diplomat
The celebrity diplomat's visible compassion and her attractive appearance are both described in loving detail in the Vogue article: ‘Upon arriving there is much hand-shaking, picture-taking and government protocol. But she is unassuming, dressed in her standard field uniform: slim pants, a loose blouse and ballerina shoes’ (Giovanni, 2015: 138). Presumably, the humanitarian celebrity like the designer fashion she models in the same magazine feature can be dressed up or down – and can be taken anywhere. A full page picture that accompanies this Vogue (Australia) article on humanitarian celebrity also features a slender, seductive Jolie, in a backless $8,895 Gucci designer gown, staring with practiced ease back at the camera. In this contradictory, PR-ised approach to diplomacy, glamourous gowns, celebrity lifestyles and ‘escapist fantasies of consumerism’, mix and merge with the horrors of war (see Volcic and Erjavec, 2015: 372) in a manner which harks back to the worst excesses of cultural imperialism and undermines the credibility of the modern UN mission. Overall, the organisation of images, words, headlines, pull quotes, paragraph leads and other framing devices, seems to suggest Jolie makes an ideal celebrity ambassador – for global neoliberal capitalism.
I'm the mother of the world: Celebrities on rescue tours in Africa
Although Angelina Jolie, with her field missions to Tanzania and Sierra Leone, is the most widely cited ‘peak’ example (Chouliaraki, 2012; Volcic and Erjavec, 2015; Wheeler, 2011), a significant number of female actors, popstars and supermodels have conducted humanitarian ‘tours’ of Africa in recent years, such as supermodel Naomi Campbell in Nigeria or popstar Madonna in Malawi (Gilson, 2010). The neocolonial assumptions which underpin the humanitarian celebrity tour become evident however, when we substitute, reverse or reframe them. It is an interesting commutation test, for example, to imagine how it might be received if wealthy young women from Africa or the Middle East were to fly to the United States, the United Kingdom or Australia, to rescue and empower ‘us’! Deeply negative or pessimistic portrayals of Africa are now so common or ‘naturalised’ in the Western news media (de B’beri and Louw, 2011; Kogen, 2015) that it is almost unthinkable to imagine an alternative reality – and such construction of ‘reality’ is in itself one of the key functions of framing (Entman, 1993; Tuchman, 1978).
It's a short step from the neoliberal ‘I want to rule the world’ mantra of 80s/90s liberal feminism, most famously exemplified by pop star Madonna, to the new millennial, neocolonial ‘mother of the world’ politics, exemplified by actors like Angelina Jolie and Nicole Kidman. In some sense, celebrity ambassadors on tour are also ambassadors of cultural imperialism, ruling not by direct imperial control, but through the ‘soft power’ of good PR and strategic image management. In this mediated frame, highly visible celebrities (and their invisible managers and minders) are never implicated in the social, cultural and economic inequality, which they benefit from and which they helped to create in the first place.
Emma Watson: Money makes The Bling Ring world go around
The model and film actor Emma Watson has recently presented feminist celebrity activism to wider and younger female audiences through numerous public appearances and a powerful online presence. With more than 19 million followers on Twitter alone, Emma Watson is now regularly packaged as a kind of global gender equality spokesmodel for the digital age, since her 2014 UN HeforShe campaign and speech went ‘viral’ (see Cleo, 2015). Watson and her publicist and PR team have apparently tapped into aspirational discourses of popular liberal feminism, through Watson's performance as United Nations Goodwill Ambassador and as a famous ‘face’ for UN Women's global gender equality campaigns (alongside Nicole Kidman). Although best known for her roles in films, such as The Bling Ring and the Harry Potter franchise, Watson also served as the ‘face’ of elite designer label campaigns directed at female consumers and has appeared on the cover of women's magazines Vogue and Cleo. The most recent Cleo (Australia) (2015) cover story on Watson with the headline title, ‘Raising Her Voice’, frames the celebrity as an authoritative voice speaking on behalf of girls and other young women. The Cleo (2015: 24) article applauds Emma Watson for being both a ‘stylish babe’ and ‘the voice of a generation’. The PR framing of the celebrity's attributes in this article not only aims to draw attention to her supposedly inherent positive qualities, but also positions the celebrity brand as more authentic or legitimate than others because she has a moral-political agenda (see Hallahan, 1999: 11).
Perhaps because it is aimed at younger women, Cleo magazine makes a more direct appeal to aspirational desires for money and sex; ironically implying that Watson is worth listening to on equality, mostly because she is exceptionally sexy, desirable and wealthy. The ‘moral evaluation’ (Entman, 1993: 52) of this framing implies that being famous, beautiful and wealthy is an inherent good in itself and a natural precursor to doing good on a global scale. The ‘solution’ defined in this framing (see Entman, 1993: 52) is global gender equality, however the problem is not adequately explained – certainly there is no mention of how and why some men, and some women, profit from global inequality. As with the other texts discussed in this study, humanitarianism is framed here on privatised and aspirational terms (as one empowered, ‘inspirational’ woman's growth toward self-actualisation) in an entirely uncritical and relentlessly upbeat PR driven format which presents the celebrity and her work only in a positive light and in simplistic terms.
Twenty-something Emma Watson is said to be worth over $32 million (Lee, 2010) and much is made in (liberal feminist informed) popular culture texts of her career ‘bankability’ (Cleo, 2015; Daily Mail Australia, 2014). Watson appears on the cover of this same Cleo issue in a gendered somewhat sexualised pose; long, loose hair, doe-eyed-come-hither expression, mouth open, tongue exposed and slender fingers held up to her pouting lips. As previously discussed in relation to other UN global gender equality ambassadors, it would be difficult to imagine male celebrity diplomats or female politicians authorising such a stereotypically feminine and sexualised ‘cover girl’ image. Nonetheless, it is entirely possible Cleo's youthful consumers read such sexualised celebrity iconography as pleasurable, inspiring or even empowering. Indeed it is presumably Watson's commercial, modern ‘girl of the moment’ mass appeal that makes her so attractive to the UN in the first place. There is not a great deal of difference, however, in the visual representations of Emma Watson as brand ambassador for exclusive designer corporates like Burberry and Lancôme and this Cleo editorial on Emma Watson as UN brand ambassador for global gender equality – the glamourous celebrity portrait looms large and speaks the same gendered language of gendered norms. With the help of UN publicity, digital pseudo-events and pop politicisation, Emma Watson has been reinvented from child star and model to serious actor, ‘authentic’ spokesperson and feminist role model – a PR success story!
The fashion model that ate the world
The new feminine ideal appealed to here is entrepreneurial but charitable, ambitious but sexy, democratic but exclusive. It is certainly part of contemporary PR ‘double-speak’, to spin the celebrity activist as a sexy revolutionary and force for global good. Yet there is nothing new in the actual content of Watson's UN speeches – as Roxane Gay (2014) has pointed out, ‘it girl’ Emma Watson is merely recycling points made by older feminists over 40 years ago. What is new, however, is the convergence of mutually reinforcing discourses of humanitarian celebrity, PR, liberal feminism and neoliberal capitalism – and their capacity to go viral over social media. Although Watson, like Kidman, makes universalising claims about and for all women, it is actually a particular kind of Western, white empowerment being applauded here; a celebration of wealth, sexuality, fame and individual success, which meets the requirements of hegemonic femininity, heteronormativity and patriarchal capitalism. Although it is unlikely to appear as such in any UN celebrity speech, the underlying message these new-breed, ‘gender equality’ ambassadors seem to be sending to girls and young women is, ‘change the world, by becoming famous’ or perhaps, ‘girls can do anything – so long as they look good doing it’.
As for those foreign others, the celebrity is supposedly helping in the Global South, their ‘otherness’ is essentially reduced to a prop for publicity, or as bell hooks (1992) puts it, a ‘spice’ to enrich the ‘dish’ of mainstream, white, commodity culture. Following hooks (1992) and Spivak (1993), the celebrity's attraction to oppressed others, may have more to do with her own identity performance (as the successful, empowered, cosmopolitan woman), than with creating a space for the subaltern to speak for herself. Indeed, celebrity ‘global gender equality’ advocates could have used their high profile and privileged agency to highlight the important work already being done by antiracist, postcolonial, feminist activists, instead of predictably promoting their own film, fashion or identity brand. Due in part to the spectacular rise of celebrity culture and celebrity power (see Marshall, 1997, 2010; Turner, 2004), it seems the thin, white celebrity, speaks for, acts for and (ironically) ‘eats’ the world.
Conclusion: What lies beneath?
This author acknowledges that stories of humanitarian celebrity presented in women's magazines are open to multiple readings, some of which may hold inspiring, pleasurable and empowering interpretations for women and girls. There are also undoubtedly economically marginalised people and places that have benefited from the assistance of celebrity elites. This article makes no claim to presenting the definitive reality of these complex issues – indeed it has consciously employed some of the same framing devices as popular culture texts, such as deliberately provocative ‘headline’ subheadings. It is hoped, however, that this article has provided an alternative framework from which to view humanitarian celebrity. It attempts to step outside the dominant PR driven framework and think critically about the slide toward celebrity-driven, pseudo-politicisation, which may actually undermine the potentially empowering messages of global gender equality communication campaigns. Although they may mean well, contemporary female celebrity activists rarely challenge the logic of the modern global marketplace, which made them so very wealthy and influential in the first place. UN Women ambassadors like Nicole Kidman and Emma Watson are well known for urging girls and women to pursue their dreams and aspirations. They don't have much to say, however, about what to do when one woman's dream runs up against another's, in an inherently unequal, competitive and unjust system – perhaps because their privileged Western, white, middle class backgrounds have not adequately prepared them for the realities of intersectional race and class based oppression. Beyond the glittering surfaces of celebrity diplomacy, where attractiveness is everything, individual aspirations are limitless and model-actress activists follow the liberal feminist script, there is much that cannot be said, much that cannot be seen and much that lies beneath.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
The author would like to thank the anonymous reviewers of this paper for their helpful, generous and insightful comments on the manuscript.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.