Fan Fever
by Vicki Shuttleworth

Steven Spielberg recently joined the growing number of well-publicised cases of celebrities being stalked by 'fans'. Unlike John Lennon, Jodi Foster and Madonna, however, Spielberg's stalker, Jonathan Norman, was a special kind of sadist whose fantasy was to kidnap his icon and sodomise him in front of his wife, Kate Capshaw. Such cases make good press, offering a combination of salacious detail, sympathy for the celebrity victim and public fear of the psychopathic killer.

The extreme nature of these cases and their sensational reporting however probably only serves to distract us from looking beyond the headlines to what drives this behaviour. Indeed the media fascination with the fan-as-freak has similarities with the way in which the media and historians initially sought to explain the rise of Nazism as some kind of uniquely evil aberration. Believing that the Nazi's and freaky fans belong in a special 'bad and mad' category makes it possible for everyone to continue believing in their own inherent goodness and sanity.

Ironically, Spielberg has probably aided and abetted his own stalker -- with a little help from his 'friends' or fellow directors. For the past twenty years, Hollywood has cultivated stereotypical images of celebrities and their fans, images which conspire to nurture obsession. An example is Edward Bianchi's 1981 high camp film "The Fan" which casts one of Hollywood's most idealised stars, Lauren Bacall as the victim of crazed fan, Douglas Green. Douglas embodies every crass stereotype of the psycho fanatic -- a paranoid loner and latent homosexual who flips when his fantasies about being Miss Ross's closest 'friend' are thwarted. He takes a knife to her secretary and housemaid and fakes his death by incinerating his own gay look alike.

Similar stereotyping can also be found in the most recent version of "The Fan" (1997) with Robert De Niro as Gil Renard, a soon-to-be unemployed knife salesman. Gil is intense, manic and likely to dip over into the hysterical as he pursues his sporting hero Bobby Rayburn played by Wesley Snipes. And yes, Gil does end up finding a very anti-social outlet for his experience with knives. Basically however, De Niro is playing himself: the 'star actor' reprising his earlier freakouts from "Taxi Driver" and "Cape Fear".

One reason for the popularity of this stereotype with film makers is that the scripts are written, acted and directed by 'insiders' -- those who have the most to fear from the people whose fantasies they fuel. 'Fan' movies are often painstaking in their efforts to ensure that the audience not only empathises with the star but continues to worship them. The message is that under all that mystique the 'stars' are, 'human' and no matter how glamorous their world may seem -- 'life at the top is tough'. Lauren Bacall has a screwed up marriage, suffers anxieties about her new play and is physically and psychologically vulnerable. Wesley Snipes has a screwed up marriage, suffers anxieties about his game and becomes psychologically vulnerable.

The essential paradox in the freaky fan film is that the stars not only retain their star status they get to promote it. Lauren Bacall remains seductively glamorous and adorable from beginning to end. Bobby Rayburn is a deeply flawed, 'regular guy' but in a way that fans like their 'regular guys' -- not as regular as themselves. Both films do more towards extending the fan bases of Bacall, De Niro and Snipes, than discouraging fanaticism among their existing devotees.

The suggestion in these films and the media that 'the star' has a better grip on reality than their demented fans is an interesting one, but unlikely to be true. Afterall, as many celebrities themselves have revealed in the course of interviews, the very process of becoming a star by necessity involves fantasising about it, daring to imagine the 'impossible', even obsessing about it. So whose fantasy is the more extravagant -- the celebrity who acts out their own fantasy of being 'the star', or, the fan who seeks to escape his mediocrity by living through that star?

While 'stars' are sometimes plagued by wound up fans, fans themselves have occasionally come in for some unwelcome treatment by their idols -- Liam Gallagher's assault on a British fan being only the most recent example. Yes, there are relatively more freaky fans than freaky celebrities out there and yes, most examples of bizarre or threatening behaviour don't even make it into the media. What the media and fan flicks deliberately ignore, however, is that the kind of obsessiveness that drives the freaky fan is the same kind of obsessiveness underlying an almost universal 'madness'. Check around your friends: most are fans or collectors -- it may be football cards or Perry Como vinyl but nearly everyone has some kind of ritualistic fetish centred on a particular person or object.

How a soft core fetish becomes a passion and then a dangerous obsession seems to depend as much on opportunity as on individual inclination. Probably the world's most intrepid stalker is 88 year old Marion Seeber who has pursued her idol Gerard Depardieu around the globe, even gatecrashing his home in Anjou. Marion is keen but given her advanced years is certainly limited in her opportunities. The Internet, on the other hand, has undoubtedly opened up a whole new world in which fans can indulge their fantasies and fetishes. If you have access to email and the Web the opportunities for anonymous, non-physical violence are unlimited -- "I hate" web pages are now almost de rigueur as are newsgroups and chat rooms where you can share your love, jealousy, frustration and hate without fear of any security consultant putting you on his 'risk' list.

It would be naive to think that the media and celebrity industries ignore most obsessive fan behaviour out of indifference or even less likely, a sense of social responsibility. Fear is a more probable reason -- fear of unravelling the irrational and uncontrollable. But also fear of endangering what they depend on for their own existence. Obsessiveness is, afterall, the lifeblood of mass consumerism. If our 'madness' sometimes goes beyond consuming every piece of official Madonna merchandise and poses a public threat to the lady herself, then it needs to be handled in a way that protects the product as much as the individual. The fan/collector/consumer must be able to feel that most obsessions are within the boundaries of normality otherwise they might reduce or even abandon their consumption. Enter the 'freaky fan' -- a reality maybe, but also a convenient stereotype that enables us to continue 'celebrating' the celebrity.