Arnold's media muscle goes soft
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The Gubernator started out promisingly in his present starring role, but the script has lately morphed his macho image into that of a girlie man. The in-your-face campaigner seemed to be sulking on the sidelines.
Across the land, to be sure, this is a tough moment for those who consider themselves kings-of-all-media. Karl Rove thought he had an answer for everything until the Big Blow. Suddenly the president's daily sound bites seem defensive, if not whiny.
No actor ever was more confident of his PR mastery than Schwarzenegger. When he was pushing a picture, he would boast of his talent to do 50-plus interviews a day and still make reporters feel he was there just for them.
As governor, his relations with the press quickly went south. "Mr. Good Guy" became distanced and dogmatic. He barked at reporters instead of responding to their queries. He went into shock when the Los Angeles Times covered him as though he were a creature from outer space, not realizing that Times editors regard everyone from Hollywood as enemy aliens.
And lately, Arnold has all but disappeared amid a fusillade of attack ads from public employee unions. Some $53 million is being poured into this shrill campaign by teachers, prison guards, dissident Indian tribes and random Arnold haters.
The message is that the Gubernator is the enemy of all social progress. The subtext is that state employees believe they run the government, not the voters. Every teacher who reports for work should have the instant tenure of a Supreme Court judge.
So where's Arnold? His poll numbers are shrinking faster than a steroid-fed scrotum. Last week he turned up at an air-filter plant in Riverside -- not exactly a glam location -- to remind voters that he is "bloodied but unbowed." With a 54% disapproval rating, he may be "unbowed" but he's starting to bend over.
Arnold's friends believe that the sheer noise level of opposition will energize him into a fierce counterattack. Even the ever-hostile Los Angeles Times predicts that he will seek a new term in 2006 while warning that his "reform" initiatives, to be voted on Nov. 8, are not likely "to produce any quick fix for California's dysfunctional state government."
So will Arnold rise again? Twelve years ago when he was relentlessly publicizing "Last Action Hero," I wrote a column giving him the following unsolicited advice: "Cool it, 'cause it's a lousy movie." He sent back a snapshot showing him standing next to a nurse, a hot water bottle pressed to his temple. "I have taken your advice, Dr. Bart," said a hand-written note. It was signed "Arnold."
Well, it's time for that hot water bottle again, Arnold. The King of All Mediahas to get over his headache and get back to work.
The great escape
I'd hate to be producing a disaster movie these days. How can special effects top what's on TV?
The natural disasters in and around New Orleans have also had their impact on the celebrity community. Even top stars understand that despite their ubiquitous security and protective posses, escape would be dicey in the case of a major earthquake in Southern California. Freeways would be fractured; looting would be pervasive.
Since stars and their handlers are keenly aware of all this, I've been made privy to several of their recommended escape schemes:
- Rent-a-choppers: Most stars have their own jets, but access to airports would be difficult. Hence, a few have locked up choppers for emergency situations -- at considerable cost.
- Vespas: The quickest egress from quake-battered Los Angeles would be via bikes on back-country roads, thus avoiding freeways and downtown chaos. Of course, along with Vespas must come Vespa lessons, even for those who regard limos as a hardship.
- Speedboats: While the major ports will be immobilized, it may still be possible to pre-arrange a rendezvous with an escape vessel at piers in Malibu or Oxnard.
All this may sound like scenarios from a disaster movie, but given the chaos of New Orleans, security mavens believe that survival will depend on pre-planning.
So when the Big One comes, here's a warning to civilians: If you see a wave of Vespas heading your way, stand clear.
A quake is bad enough, but getting run over by a posse of superstars would be the ultimate indignity.
