ALONG WITH the entire country, John Orman was glued to his television in the days following the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks.
Amid the confusing rush of horrific split-screen images of devastation, CNN was perfecting the art of information overload, with constant typed-up news briefs rolling across the bottom of the screen.
Suddenly, one piece of vital information jumped out at Orman, an author and political science professor at Fairfield University in Connecticut. It was a small headline crawling across the bottom of the TV screen:
"Madonna urges restraint."
If nothing else, it gave Orman a good laugh during a depressing week. It was also a lesson in how much real-world importance we place on the words of celebrities.
"All the information crawling across the television that day supposedly had the same weight," says Orman, co-author of "Celebrity Politics" (Prentice Hall, 2002). "I went, 'Uh, good for her.'"
The implication was clear: Celebrities get attention, whether they're dabbling in their art or speaking out on real issues. The public takes them seriously enough that Madonna urging restraint may be as visible as the words of elected leaders.
Though understandably more patriotic and supportive of President Bush in the year following Sept. 11, celebrities are again warming up to the idea of criticizing the government. The Iraq situation is galvanizing celebrities in a way not seen in decades, and the press is more than happy to provide a forum.
Celebs get active again
That was a different issue, since America was still collectively in shock, Orman says. "We mourned through celebrities," Orman says. "It was a who's who of popular culture."
Little more than a year later, military reporters and foreign correspondents became paparazzi as Sean Penn trekked to Iraq in December to see conditions there for himself. One could see as much of Martin Sheen on the picket line as in his hit NBC television show "The West Wing." Sheryl Crow's antiwar T-shirt got as much attention as the American Music Award she won last month.
Susan Sarandon's antiwar remarks at a movie premiere get more ink than the film. Other actors, such as Tyne Daly and Amy Brenneman of "Judging Amy," are filming ads promoting weapons inspections over invasion. The ads are for Artists United to Win Without War, bankrolled by TrueMajority.com, a liberal activist group started by Ben and Jerry's co-founder Ben Cohen. The first ad, featuring Sarandon, ran on local stations the night President Bush gave his State of the Union Address. Large networks rejected it.
Other celebrities lining up publicly include Janeane Garofalo, Danny Glover, John and Joan Cusack, Robert Altman, Marisa Tomei, Oliver Stone, Bonnie Raitt, Yoko Ono and Dave Matthews.
Tom Cruise has also spoke out, but in a rare turn for a celebrity, broke from the typical Hollywood stance to declare his support for the president. Curiously, there's been a lack of public comments concerning Iraq from high-profile conservative celebrities such as Arnold Schwarzenegger and Bruce Willis.
Mostly liberal
Orman says the liberal viewpoints of celebrities aren't unique. "You can find similar sentiments at any university or think tank, but they don't get the attention," Orman says. "(The effect) is very minimal. Most people like celebrities in the arena in which they perform. If a famous celebrity has a lot of fans and supports his values, you'd think people would say 'I like Sean Penn, I like his views.' But it doesn't work that way."
But we hear it, whether we want to or not.
"Celebrities monopolize the airwaves," Orman says. "If it's not a celebrity, CNN won't give the movement any airtime."
It's obvious they get our attention, but the actual impact of celebrities' political opinions is debatable, Orman says. Traditionally, speaking up has been dangerous.
Today's celebrity liberalism isn't nearly as cut and dried as in the 1950s, when overtly liberal leanings could get a public person blacklisted and often mistakenly labeled a Communist.
Jane Fonda was widely skewered for going to North Vietnam during the Vietnam War in 1972, earning the tag of "Hanoi Jane" as well as endless scorn by many Americans. Yet her career peaked the decade following the trip.
World hunger became the biggest celebrity cause of the 1980s -- not exactly a bold political stance, since no one is against helping starving children.
It's only become semi-comfortable for many celebrities to directly speak out against the government over the past decade. Still, credibility is a necessary component that can be gained by aligning with an established organization.
"In 1991, (actress) Margot Kidder came out against a war in Iraq, and she was lambasted for being a 'Hanoi Jane,'" Orman says. "One thing celebrities learned is that they need to be in a crowd. Penn was made out to be a fool. No one listened. Even though his father (director Leo Penn) was blacklisted, he doesn't have a lot of credibility. The way the media covered it, he became 'Baghdad Sean.'"
Penn claims his political stance has already cost him a lucrative role in the movie "Why Men Shouldn't Marry." Producer Steve Bing calls the claim "extortion," and says Penn never had a contract.
Decent exposure
Political organizers, understandably, like all the exposure.
"Celebrities can do a lot of good, and now's the time to speak," says independent filmmaker Scott Beibin, who organized an antiwar march at this year's Sundance Film Festival in Park City, Utah. "The way the media is set up, fair or unfair, our press focuses on personalities and quirks of these individuals.
Beibin says he was joined on his march by Christian Slater, Daryl Hannah and Salma Hayek. Still others confided to him that they wanted to participate, but couldn't.
"People expressed concerns over coming, that it would hurt their careers," Beibin says. "People whom I can't name said they really, really wanted to come, but their agent said not to."
Other activists aren't so sure. Country Joe McDonald, who happens to be both famous and active in veterans issues, says credibility goes beyond a group affiliation. As a Navy veteran and the writer of one of the 1960s' most famous protest songs ("I-Feel-Like-I'm-Fixin'-to-Die Rag"), his perspective is unique.
"I don't know what effect celebrities have," says McDonald from his Berkeley home. "It's a shame that America hasn't had Persian Gulf vets come out and speak on both sides. The dynamic of not asking people who know the most is dangerous."
"Is celebrity a useful vehicle? I'd have to say yes," McDonald says. "My position wouldn't get play if I wasn't a celebrity, and if I can advocate for people who wouldn't otherwise get play, then yes."
At the same time, McDonald is offended by celebrities with military experience refusing to share their stories, despite their ideological side. "If they did, it would be wonderful," he says. "But they find it bad for business."
