"Even if I got rid of all my problems, I'd just go out and get new ones..."

Fame Tracking and Just a Geek
1:35 p.m. on 2004-09-04

I'm currently reading "Just a Geek," an auto-biographical book from the pen of Wil Wheaton.

(Slight aside: I was going to take this book on holiday with me, but stupid Amazon lied to me and sent me not one, but two hardback copies - far too unwieldy and heavy for a backpacking trip around Sri Lanka. So I'm reading it now instead.)

Wil Wheaton, if you don't know, is an actor. He was in the movie Stand By Me alongside Jerry O'Connell and River Phoenix. He also played the character 'Wesley Crusher' in Star Trek: TNG, a character that I loved to hate, mostly because even at that age (I was about thirteen when I watched the show for the first time) I objected to the idea that young people would only be interested in a show if it featured at least one character of a similar age.

In the book, and on his blog (check to your left), Wil talks about a variety of things, from his family to his various job auditions. He also talks about his feelings towards Star Trek, and the vitriolic hate that was poured out to him during his time as a cast member, and for years since.

It makes me feel guilty. Not because I especially slagged off Wesley Crusher, mind you. I never liked the character, but I was too busy making Data the "Worst. Character. Ever." to really consider Wesley.

But I do watch shows and joke about the career choices and futures of the actors involved. I watch Popular and love Bryce Johnson playing the role of Josh Ford, but will then crack jokes about his lack of career since. The guy who was (briefly) a Teen Idol pin-up is now signing on. I read snippets of how bitter Walter Koenig still is over his Star Trek past, and I watch the LOTR movies and openly wonder whether Dominic Monaghan will be the next Mark Hamill.

Yup, there's even a term for it. "Being the next Mark Hamill." Starring in one of the biggest movies or tv series of all time, and then bombing out so spectacularly that the actor becomes bitter and twisted, and the butt of every joke.

Reading "Just a Geek," and hearing how Wil felt upon his departure from Trek, and his frustration at failing to reach that 'Big Star' status his teenage self was so certain was just around the corner, I'm starting to realise just how cruel that sort of humour can be.

Acting is pretty much the toughest career there is. There is some statistic about how 80% of actors are unemployed 90% of the time (or some figures like that). For an actor to have made any impact at all is a Very Huge Thing. Even if, since his Popular days, Bryce Johnson has only been seen in poorly recieved MTV comedies and, um, nothing much else, I will still love the character of Josh Ford, and I will still enjoy watching him years from now, when my Popular DVDs are battered and worn.

But why is it so easy to mock those actors, to label them as failures? Because they're not. Even though Mark Hamill's career hasn't been a stella, glittering history, he will always have that Star Wars history, and generations of people will enjoy his work.

(Okay, maybe not me. I'm not a big Star Wars fan. But you get the idea.)

Maybe it's because we love to see people fail. I relish seeing photographs of Kylie or Rachel Stevens in which their cellulite is on show for all. Sure, I have cellulite too, but seeing these girls, whose bodies are held up as examples for us to aspire to, suffer from the same human complaint? It entertains and amuses me and, I'm ashamed to admit, makes me feel better about my own 'cottage-cheese' ass.

The same with actors. Somehow, seeing an actor's brief blaze of glory be extinguished by years of rejection and invisibility, makes us feel better. It makes us feel more content about our own lives and our lack of sparkage because secretly, we are all simply jealous that we've never had our fifteen minutes of fame.

Truth is, even fifteen minutes is a big deal. I want to be a writer. If I only published one story in my entire life, if this story was hailed by all the papers as a masterpiece, but I then failed to write a successful piece ever again, I would still have that moment. I'd have done something that few other people ever have.

Am I going to stop making Mark Hamill references and gags about certain actors joining the dole queue? If I'm honest, probably not. It's hypocritical and selfish, but there is something still so satisfying about mocking the success that I will probably never know.

But at least, next time I watch Star Trek or Popular, or the next show to feature a next-big-thing that never is, I might consider the future of the actors involved and be a little more considerate. As an actor, it's impossibly difficult to get recognised, and even if that recognition is only fleeting, it counts. Because it's something that very few actors will ever know.

And maybe that's why it's so nice to play the Hey, it's That Guy Game. To recognise those familliar faces who never get the fame or the glory or the "Inside The Stars Homes" spread in InStyle magazine. Because watching them, we're watching successful actors. In the world of the media, even fifteen minutes, or a guest-starring role, that's success. And maybe as an audience, we should appreciate that more often.

Listening to: Al Green

Quote: "Gosh, I'd like to help you, Peter, but I've got to go out in the hall and chew on the back of my ass for about five minutes."

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