Justine Bateman Has Thoughts on Fame, and Geoffrey Owens Working at Trader Joes

Justine Bateman, perhaps most famous for her seven-season run as Mallory Keaton on the NBC sitcom Family Ties, has written a book. She puts any idea that the compact, searing volume will be yet another logy, loquacious Hollywood quickie, written by an actor too young to write a memoir about a not-so-exceptional life, saying a lot but revealing very little, decisively to rest on page two.

“I fucking hate memoirs,” Bateman writes.

As the title Fame: The Hijacking of Reality more than implies, this is a book about the complicated aspects of all things fame; so much so that the word throughout the book is uppercase. As in “Fame.” What it feels like to have Fame. What it feels like to lose Fame. What it feels like to live in a country gone mad, a country obsessed with Fame, filled with those seeking to achieve it, and those unlucky enough to no longer be sheathed within its seemingly warm embrace.

Since Family Ties ended in May 1989, Bateman has become a renowned writer-director of short films, such as this years “Push” and “Five Minutes released this month, as well as features, like the upcoming Violet, starring Olivia Munn and Justin Theroux. She also earned a computer-science degree from U.C.L.A. and a pilots license. Yet for many, Bateman remains forever stuck in amber as the 16-year-old giggly, slightly ditzy Mallory on a hugely popular sitcom broadcast on Thursday nights after The Cosby Show and before Cheers, “Must See TV” at its peak—nearly half of all TV sets in use were tuned into Family Ties.

Vanity Fair talked with Bateman by phone in Los Angeles about Americas ever-growing obsession with fame, the advantages and disadvantages to being publicly recognized, and our often hostile relationship to the formerly famous, a sad reality crystallized last month when Geoffrey Owens, Elvin Tibideaux on The Cosby Show, was Twitter-shamed for having the audacity to work a regular job as a cashier at a New Jersey Trader Joes. The horror!

Vanity Fair: So you fucking hate memoirs?

Justine Bateman: I do. I have some very good friends whove written memoirs, but its not for me. Its just not a format that Im interested in.

Im imagining you must have been approached over the years, at least a few times, to write your own.

The only time I was ever approached to write a book was when I was most famous. A publishing group wanted to do something in the late 80s, and I said, “Oh great! Ive got this poetry and Ive got these art pieces that Ive done that sort of accompany it.” And theyre like, “Yeah . . . wouldnt you rather like to write another type of book, like an exercise book for other girls your age or something like that?” And I was like, “Thats not for me.”

When I was going around pitching this book—first to book agents and then to publishers—there was this, I dont know . . . Ive never worked in the publishing world but if your book doesnt fall within some category that theyve commonly used, then it doesnt seem easy for the publishers.

When it does fit, they know how to market it, they know who the audience is, they know what distributors to go to. Its not as easy when its something thats not specific to what they were looking for.

Its such a huge, huge topic: fame. Was it formidable to even attempt to tackle it in book form?

It was, but I kept it specific. Its a big conversation to have. I do touch on, of course, social media and reality shows and all that, but theres a much bigger conversation to be had about fame. I couldve started with, Where did fame begin, you know? And I could have researched all of that because my hunch is that it began with tribes. If youve got a guy in your tribe whos the best warrior in the land, then you, by association, are sort of a winner. But thats a big subject. I just really wanted to focus on that strange thing that happens in a room when a famous person walks in. And what happens after that famous person is no longer that famous.

This fascinates me. Why are we, as humans, hardwired to be impressed by fame?

So tell me more about how you feel that its hardwired. Because I say its more taught.

Well, I'll give you an example. I went to elementary school in Maryland. My sixth-grade class all took a test to get onto a local TV quiz show. Everyone but me and another kid passed the test. They were all on the show; we werent. And I remember seeing my classmates on TV that weekend and then being with them on Monday morning and they looked different to me somehow. Bigger. They seemed more important.

TV must have meant something to you. And it also depends on how other people were treating them, which might have informed your view, possibly. Did your teacher look at the kids differently? Did other adults talk about the event in a way that impressed you?

I think for each individual its quite complex, but I think generally nowadays people seek out fame, and respect it, because theyre assuming a sort of state of being that will solve a lot of the things that they dislike in their lives.

You write in the book about the downside to fame—whether it was fans coming up for an autograph at an inopportune or personal moment—but you also write about the upside of fame; that there were certain advantages to it.

You hear all the time it doesnt solve anything. But the truth is, there is often money attached to fame. There is often health attached to it—you can have better access to health care. There is often better opportunity attached to fame, at least career-wise. But its a flash. You cant control it. You cant depend on it.

Most the time, youre so overwhelmed with the fame that its hard to have your wits about you as its happening. And then its over quickly.

It must be especially difficult to have your wits about you if you experience fame very young. I mean, what do any of us know at 16?

The younger you are when you experience it, the more those things are going to be interwoven into the fabric of what you understand of life. Whether its abuse, or poverty, or a lot of money, or privilege, or whatever is, good or bad. Its going to work its way into each persons life differently. So when fame is introduced quite early, its almost impossible to unweave that aspect from how somebody understands how life works.

You cant really fault people who are experiencing fame. Theyre just making their way through and everybody around them is reflecting this fame right back at them. Its strange. Its as if everybody is suddenly calling you Roger and you fight it for a while and then you go, “Well, fuck. I guess I *am *Roger. I didnt think I was, but I guess I am Roger.” And nobodys offering you any alternative reality. Its distorted.

__It must have been surreal for you, to say the least. You were on a hit show that was playing on every other TV in America.

It was but it was also a different time as far as the publics general understanding of the entertainment business. Imagine no Internet and about a fifth of the magazines weve got now, and a tenth of the entertainment-based shows on TV. Before I was famous, I had done two commercials but it was hard to catch them on television. You had to catch them live. I mean, the odds of catching one of your commercials live was . . . I dont know, pretty thin. I think I caught them once or twice and its just one of those, “Oh, thats neat.”

It was not that big of a deal. And then when I did the pilot for Family Ties, I didnt know what a “pilot” was. I just knew I was going to be acting this thing out and they were going to film it. And then when they said, “Oh, its picked up,” and everybody was happy about that, I was like, “O.K. Tell me what that means.” But that was the general understanding everybody had back then.

It would be like me understanding the process of how a patents approved or how a paper is published in a scientific journal. I didnt get it. It took a few years for the real fame to happen; when it became that high, high level of people screaming every time they see you. Actually, when the Cosby show first came on and started leading us in [1984–1985] and we had that to-die-for Thursday night lineup . . . we just dominated the ratings from then on. And then Michael [J.] Fox becoming unstoppably popular as well, with his films. It really got up there.

Fame wasnt something you were looking for, even secretly?

It wasnt something I sought out. It wasnt something I was hoping for from when I was a little girl. It actually never crossed my mind to ever be an actor, but I did fall into my vocation, for sure. When youre 15 or 16, everythings happening around you and you are just reacting. You can stop it. But you dont know that then. Youre too young. You just keep moving forward.

And then as far as doing all of the publicity and everything, I really did feel an obligation. No ones saying you have to do this. But you see how much money, how many people are working on this project, and to say no to anything takes a very strong will. People are dependent on you showing up. Adults are dependent on it. So dont throw that wrench in that gear.

In the book, you describe fame as like being “encased in a sheath.” To me that almost sounds maudlin. In fact, you write, “When the Fame started to fade, I felt physically unsafe.”

Yeah, the “sheath” is like some casing youre in. And when people look at you, all they see is that casing; they dont see you inside it anymore. They see the fame, not you. That physically unsafe feeling was really interesting. I hadnt realized how safe I felt in every semi-dangerous situation when I was famous. The thing is, someone in that dangerous crowd is always going to recognize you, so youll be vouched for, you know what I mean? Everyone will then just except you. They trust you. They let you in.

You write about the seismic shift concerning Americas obsession and relationship to fame arriving at or around the turn of the millennium. What do you think happened in 2000 that caused this very specific shift?

I think it was this kind of perfect storm of entertainment-focused media outlets and reality shows that were then starting to explode. There were more publications and shows needing material. They needed more material and there are only so many famous actors and musicians and writers to fill that. And then theres suddenly this whole batch of people on TV who are essentially game-show contestants—you know, reality-show contestants.

And then the public responded: “Oh, look! Its just some mom. Anyone can do this. Anyone can be famous. And you dont need to do a thing!”

I think thats when it really took off. That whole type of thinking really paved the way for peoples obsession with all of it. And I do feel its an obsession. I think its a compulsive kind of thing to want as many followers as possible on social media.

I dont recall it being like that before that point. And Im completely fine to be proved wrong but thats just what it seems to me to be. I remember feeling that thered been a big shift right there. It was no longer, “Oh, youre one of the most intelligent people Ive ever heard speak and I would love to sit down to dinner with you and just hear you tell me about your ideas.” But rather, “Oh, I like him because he is similar to me.”

I personally dont want that. I want somebody whos got particular attributes that make them a talent and good at what they do. And that may not be things that are similar to attributes Ive got. I want my plumber to know everything about plumbing. Im not going to pick a plumber based on whos most similar to me. Were living a reality show and not a good reality show. This is whats happened.

I love the following quote in your book from Michael J. Fox: “The biggest prima donnas, the biggest pricks, are reality-show contestants.”

Reality programs are the cancer of this particular country. An entire group of people who think they should just show up somewhere and get paid. And how did they get this idea? Well, because it happens. Because these people just show up and get paid. And the nastier they are, the more they become popular. Its when they show the least level of intelligence, or maturity, or composure, or class. The less they show of those qualities, the more money they make. So this is the message were giving everybody. And if youre really trying your hardest to exhibit the lowest level of all those qualities, youre going to reach the highest office in our government.

There was a documentary about people winning the lottery. It was called Lucky [on HBO in 2010]. Theres a quote by one of the winners: “Winning the lottery is like throwing Miracle-Gro on your character defects.” And I think thats a lot how fame can be for most people.

That fame cycle—from nothing, to a peak, back to nothing—used to take longer, sometimes years. Now its cycling faster and faster, where it can happen in days, seemingly.

And because they have no specific skill set, they have no specific talent, theres nothing to carry them forward. Theyre not like a professional violinist whos incredibly popular at some point and then might become a little less popular, but is at least still a great violinist. That didnt go away. But if the only reason youre being focused on is because you shoot your mouth off, then people get tired of hearing the things you have to say, or your catchphrase, or whatever the hell it is. Then youre back to where you started, which is what?

Its very American, this obsession with fame.

It isnt enough to just work hard and be a good person or anything like that. The American dream shifted over the years. Its now either to win the lottery, be famous, or make as much money as possible—and make sure everybody notices.

And, case in point, the Geoffrey Owens story. Where theyre like, “Ha ha. Look at him! He used to be famous as an actor on the Cosby show! But now hes working as a cashier in Trader Joes! Ha ha!”

Working a job like that isnt looked at as doing good. Whereas its O.K. to be famous for just being an asshole on a reality show—at least youre famous. So is that the barometer? Is that success? To me thats not success at all.

We have a long, long history of mocking people after theyve become famous and lose fame. In this particular case [with Geoffrey Owens], it was different. For a number of reasons, I suppose; one being that it cut just a little too close to the bone. It was, “No, no, no, wait a minute. Hold on, that crosses the line.” We can mock a woman for looking older. Thats cool, right? We can mock somebody for having a string of failed films, right? We can shame somebody for not being able to get work because theyre having a little bit of a drinking problem. Thats cool, right? I mean, Im being sarcastic because its all fucked up.

My next book will all be about womens faces and how people react to them as they naturally age in the public eye. I think the negative reaction is such a really sad thing that happens. And it definitely happens.

If anything, that has increased.

Why do you think people are so quick to mock someones natural aging process?

Thats what Im exploring now. I think its because of the way it makes the public angry.

Why angry?

I dont know. I dont have it figured out yet. But Im trying to.

In your book, theres a description of you self-Googling your name and finding Justine Bateman looks old. You were 43 at the time.

Yeah, that was a huge mistake. The bigger mistake was clicking on it. And the even bigger mistake was, after not being able to relate to what they were saying, just kicking myself to the curb and deciding they were right and I was wrong. I then absorbed their view of me for a time, and it fucked me right up. Took awhile to get rid of that.

There are benefits to being famous. Even if its as small as acquiring a seat at a concert or a table at a restaurant. But when thats taken away, I imagine it can be very difficult.

Well, see this is where the public would go, “Oh, poor you. You couldnt get a reservation anymore.” But its really more than that. Its involved with everything.

Its like when you soak the flowerbed with water. The water goes everywhere. But when you stop watering the garden, it changes everything. So its not just that youre taking one rock out of your garden. Its that youre removing something that has flowed into everything. Its flowed into your understanding of who you are, your understanding of who you are in society, your understanding of who you are to people who you know personally, who you know in your work. Everywhere!

And even beyond the personal aspect, fame is often necessary in order to get hired on shows and in movies. So when you start losing that, its not just, “Oh, this is an inconvenience. Now Ive got to wait two weeks to get a table versus getting it tonight.” But rather, “Oh, wait. Now who am I?”

You have to start building certain muscles from scratch. And it doesnt help when people are taking pictures of you and putting it out there and saying, “Oh my god. Look what he has to do now! Work in a grocery store! Hes fat! Hes old!” So yeah, your ego takes a beating and people do feel justified in posting that sort of thing because “you once had everything.” And I feel theres a little bit of resentment that the public has for you at that point.

They almost feel as if you squandered something that they gave you. “Howd you fuck that up? Oh my god! You had everything! What happened to you?! I gave my heart and thoughts to this person and look at what theyve done with their lives!”

You describe fame as a smoke, a cloud, as it being mercurial, ephemeral.

It really is because it sort of floats. When people come up to you, theyre not coming up to you, theyre coming up to that cloud. And they want to buy the things that you buy because they want to be close to that cloud because of how they imbued that cloud. Theyve imbued that cloud with magical things. Like, You can live a life free of worry. Free of financial worry. Free of worry that theres going to be a lack of love or provision or support. And theyre like, “Oh, I want that!”

But really, the only way you can truly achieve that is if you trust that youre taken care of by whatever you believe in—whether its the universe, or god, or the sun, or whatever your thing is. Thats really the only way you can get that feeling. It wont be fame that gets you there.

You tell an anecdote in this book that I find incredible. You attended a party around 2007 at a Los Angeles club where roughly half of the people were famous. It quickly became clear that those with more fame were literally leaning away from you, avoiding you entirely.

I dont think my storys very unique. I mean, you notice that sort of leper effect; you see it happen all the time. Its not an uncommon thing. Its only startling, personally, where it occurs to you. Because youre like, “Oh, wait a minute. This is happening to me now?” Thats true of a lot of things. Thats true of, I dont know, the first time youre treated like an older person. And youre like, “Oh no, no. Now wait a moment, Im not old, am I?!” Somebodys like in their 70s and still living a full life or something and somebody maybe speaks at a higher volume because they assume theyre deaf.

Nothing gets a response faster from somebody whos closer—or who used to be close—to the fame cloud than by insulting them. Its like telling the pretty girl shes fat. Now all the other guys that have said youre pretty are not as important somehow as the one guy who tells you youre fat. Because now youve got to convince him otherwise. And now hes got you.

But with a book like this, now youve got him.

I do hope that this book will . . . first of all, Im happy to let people know what it was like inside. And, in particular, to open up to what its like on the back side of fame. I dont mean on the dark, fall-down-the-hill side of fame, but I mean post-fame. To know what thats like because thats not something thats talked about very often. I think part of the reason is because people who have been well known are kind of spooked about even mentioning it. I think you have to have a really good sense of yourself to be able to talk about life post-fame. Its like talking about a relationship that you know is kind of on the rocks. You dont want to bust it open and examine it. Because then you know it will all just fucking fall apart. Or already has.

I say in the book that I dont believe Ill ever be that famous again and thats 100 percent O.K. with me. I just want to do my projects. I want to direct. I want to create. I want there to be enough of an audience for me to do these projects. Enough of an audience that pays to see or to read these projects so that I can continue to do other projects. Thats all I want.

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