VIPs

I've been star struck exactly twice in my life.

One of the great things about being a journalist (even a freelance one) who works the film beat is that, on occasion, you get the opportunity to meet and interview some of the big people in the industry. Being situated in Detroit and doing my writing for a local weekly paper, I never did get a coveted interview with Steven Spielberg or Tom Hanks, but I did get to meet those who often were a bit newer to the scene or had some little gem that was just getting discovered.

That was the case two years ago, shortly after "Juno" came out of nowhere to be the darling at the Toronto Film Festival. The buzz for it, which had been nearly nonexistent before the festival, was suddenly deafening. I had enjoyed director Jason Reitman's previous film, "Thank You for Smoking" and I liked the work of the cast he assembled, but I was seriously skeptical about the ability of what appeared to be a teen comedy making any sort of impact on me.

I had the privilege of seeing "Juno" about two months before it opened in Detroit and I was immediately in love with everything about the movie--Reitman's deft direction, the fantastic cast, the witty dialogue by Diablo Cody and even the quirky indie soundtrack. I think I ended up seeing the film four times before it left theaters and I named it the best movie of 2007. So when the chance came to interview Reitman and Cody, right around the time the film was announced as a Golden Globe contender, was something that really tickled my inner geek.

I was terrified of meeting them, though. I did my research...I read the script for "Juno" and went back and rewatched "Smoking" (btw--I'm very glad to hear that Reitman's third film, "Up in the Air" is also winning over crowds in Toronto this very weekend). I even read "Candy Girl," Cody's memoir about the year she spent as a stripper (and yes, it was an awkward conversation when my father found the book).

The interview went well. They were two very nice, down-to-Earth people who couldn't believe their good fortune. But there was a point in the middle of the conversation where the thought just bumped into my mind: "This woman is going to win an Oscar for her work with this movie. And this guy is the son of the man who directed 'Ghostbusters.' What the heck am I doing with these people?" I think I may have even stammered out to them that that was my first "celebrity" interview.

Less than a year later, I found myself back in that hotel room with a group of journalists getting ready to talk to Rainn Wilson about "The Rocker" (coincidentally, Wilson had a bit part in "Juno"). I had seen the movie, which was quite terrible. But it didn't matter. I'm a major "Office" fan and Wilson's work on that has always made me laugh (it's one of the few areas where the U.S. version actually improved upon the BBC's character...although I will never sell Gareth short). He walked in the room, dressed in a 'Star Trek' t-shirt and couldn't have been cooler or nicer to everyone. But still, there was a moment of geekery where it suddenly hit me: "I just fist-bumped Dwight Schrute and had him answer a question for me. Dwight Schrute just posed for a picture for me."

Those are two rare instances of me being star-struck. The truth is that I've been around famous and semi-famous folk on and off. I've interviewed actors and directors (I would have been starstruck by Danny Boyle if he hadn't been so darn nice) and found that, for the most part, they have come across as very nice, down-to-Earth and charming and the intimidation disappears pretty quickly. And there have been cases where I've been unimpressed by people--this year I was in close proximity to Arnold Schwarzenegger and found myself a bit bored by him. When I was in high school, working concession at a movie theater, Aretha Franklin came in one night and was one of the rudest people I dealt with (R-E-S-P-E-C-T? Aretha didn't give none to me.)

But in those two cases above, I was starstruck. These were people who had done work that had some sort of an impact on me and left me in a sort of awe over their talent. Don't think I wasn't name-dropping them all over afterward.

I can look back now and be a bit amused or embarrassed at my reaction. After all, these are just regular people. They are just doing a job where their work appears in a very public venue. To accord them a professional respect or critical admiration is one thing, but is anyone really important enough to make our palms go sweaty or to make us feel that we've become more important just by being in close proximity to them?

In the job I have now, I deal with a lot of officials in the military. And it's funny how the rank system affects people. I understand the need for it and, in the Army, there's a necessity to it. But I have also learned that if you tell someone enough times that they're important, they'll start to believe it. It's amazing how pride and hubris can manifest itself in jobs that, honestly, aren't much different than what most people throughout Detroit are doing in some fashion. The vast majority of the people I work with are kind, easy-going and down-to-Earth. But every once in awhile you see someone very high up who requires an intermediary to talk to anyone below them and I've seen a few people who won't even acknowledge the "little people" when they're walking down the hallway. I'm not talking about professional respect that says "we should deal pleasantly with people who are our seniors." I'm talking about the attitude that says "I"m an important person and deserve to be treated like that." Respect is always bestowed, it should never be expected.

But it's not limited to that environment. In my time at the paper, I also dealt with politicians. And if anyone wants a quick dose of pomposity, they should simply be elected to public office. The off the record conversations I had in the office of one township official made me very uncomfortable, as he'd talk down about his constituents, his coworkers and the people he worked around every day. The attitude was thus: "I'm the leader. I have the power. I just put up with these people."

Even more baffling, for me, are the people who want to be around the very important people. As much as I loved dealing with the Hollywood people, I never wanted to be part of their entourage or group. I never wanted to be the person telling them "you're so important" or telling other people "this is someone you need to pay attention to." I also never wanted schmooze at any of the political events I occasionally had to attend at the paper; I never wanted to be "that guy," who shakes hands with politicians, laughs at their jokes, speaks their language and fits in with them. I remember once covering a community event and getting roped into a conversation with a gentleman who was campaigning for governor. He kept wanting me to follow him and take pictures of him interacting with people. My stomach lurched at the thought of it; I snapped one or two pics before telling him that while it was great meeting him, my obligation was to take photos of the community. Even now, I enjoy meeting the people who I write about and I give them professional courtesy and respect...but when I see how others fawn all over people who are in high positions or seek to be noticed and liked by them (kissing butt, is what I call it), it makes me sigh. Maybe it's that journalistic outsider part of me or maybe it's just that, really, I don't see what a higher education, rank or political title really does to make someone more important than the guy who sweeps the floors or takes out the trash. Professional courtesy is one thing...friendship or recognition by someone just to say "I know so-and-so" or to use that to help my career just seems shallow, crass and phony.

Where do we get this idea that people are to be put on a pedestal or--in a sense--worshipped because they appear on a public stage, have a nice source of money or are in a position of power? Do we really believe that those things make them a better person than anyone else? And what of our desire to be seen with the prestigious and powerful? Do we think it gives us an inherent worth? Are other people now obligated to respect us because we're on a first name basis with someone who gets their name in the newspaper?

Have we forgotten about the Bible verses that cry out "what is man that You are mindful of Him?" Have we forgotten the reminder that life is simply a vapor, easily snuffed out and a life is like the grass that is cut up and thrown away? Yes, God created us to be in His image and made us the high point of Creation. But that position, that great height, also meant we had a big fall. And we didn't just mess up; we rebelled against our Creator. We went to war against Him and the majority of mankind is still at enmity with God, determined to tell Him that they will decide what they worship as Lord. After all, what is our hero worship but idolatry, giving others the honor, attention and time that belongs only to God?

Have we forgotten our place? Have we forgotten the words of Rich Mullins, who reminded us that we "are not as strong as we think we are"? God spoke existence INTO existence! With one word, there was light. With one sweep of His hands, the universe came into being. With one breath, life began. And what have we done? Sure we've built great things. We've discovered vaccines. We put men on the moon. But we also are idolaters, liars, whores and murderers. From the moment of conception, we've been sinners and it's taken an act of amazing grace to restore us.

And look at how that was done. The God of the Universe...the most important being in existence, the ONLY true V.I.P....humbled Himself. Left everything He had in heaven to clothe himself in an unattractive human body that was prone to sickness, hurt, hunger, fatigue and temptation just like everyone else. He did not come to the spiritual elite, the religious VIPs...in fact, His words towards them were of the harshest condemnation. He surrounded himself with men who were largely poor and uneducated. He lived as a homeless man. He willingly was arrested and tried as a criminal and endured beating, scourging and the most painful, humiliating type of death ever devised. And even then, He willingly took on the pain and shame of having the Father--the One He submitted to, respected and loved more than anything--turn away from Him and pour out His wrath. And why? So that miserable worms like us wouldn't have to take the punishment that was rightfully ours.

How important are you feeling now? And how much more should we love and respect those who are ignored by society in favor of worshipping the pretenders to the throne?

--C