Left leaning Hollywood distances themselves from average ppl
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From Entertainment Weekly Online, this nice look at how the "better half" lives.
The New Age of Greed
Celebrity perks: How stars rake in millions -- Here's a surprising look at who's footing the bill for private jets, $3,000-a-week personal chefs, and the other extravagant extras celebs are demanding by Josh Rottenberg
Anyone who's brushed up against a major star has some tale of excess to tell: There is the suave actor who, starting a new TV series, required that the water feeding into his trailer be blessed by a shaman. There is the famous movie couple who demanded a separate private jet from Los Angeles to Europe just for their luggage, at a cost of $40,000. There's the pop singer whose dressing-room requirements while making a video for charity included $50 French candles and enough food to sustain a family of tsunami victims for a month. There's the TV bad girl who insisted the network erect a billboard for her show on a street where she knew an ex would drive past it. There's the actress who demanded Harry Winston jewelry to help her get into the role of a wealthy woman (because, you know, it was a stretch), then hid in her trailer when she was asked to give it back.
It's no major news flash that stars are a coddled breed — that's been their job description since the dawn of time. Celebrities are our royalty, as the cliché goes, and on some level we expect to see them act like it: showing off their McPalaces on Cribs, pulling up at premieres in Humvees, flauting ever blingier bling. Over the past decade, though, the entertainment industry has seen a dramatic spike in the level of pampering. In a culture forever pushing its obsession with affluence and status (remember when game shows gave out toasters and car wax instead of million-dollar checks?), keeping up with the Zeta-Joneses is becoming quite the financial challenge. And as the cost of the celebrity lifestyle rises, stars from the A list on down are passing as much of the expense as they can to those who hire them, demanding ''perk packages'' that can run into the millions of dollars. Movie studios, TV networks, and record labels, caught between the need to keep their top earners happy and the need to keep budgets down, are struggling to hold the line.
How much does it ultimately cost to maintain these lifestyles-of-the-rich-and-gluttonous fantasies? And, when the price of all the private jets, personal stylists, masseuses, and champagne is tallied up, who's getting stuck with the bill?
Voracious hunger for the trappings of wealth and privilege is usually associated with the me-me-me '80s, when Gordon Gekko proclaimed ''Greed is good'' and Van Halen demanded all brown M&M's be removed from their dressing-room candy dish. But by all accounts, Hollywood's current case of perk fever really began in the 1990s. As the film biz got caught up in an ever more Ahab-like pursuit of blockbuster glory, studios began to lavish unheard-of sums of money on the handful of actors who could theoretically guarantee a mass audience. ''When opening weekends became the big thing,'' says one studio chief, ''it tipped the balance so far in favor of the stars that it created all these crazy costs.''
With salaries for male stars topping out at a dizzying $20 million per picture, perks became, for many stars, an increasingly important way of keeping score. According to one entertainment lawyer who has negotiated perk packages, it's a matter of psychology: ''There's a lot of anger that comes from working your way up, being rejected and looked at as a piece of meat, and ultimately, perks may be some sort of sweet revenge. Sometimes the stars don't give a s--- who they piss off. They want what they want, and screw anyone else.''
Celebrities themselves would tell you, not without some justification, that their own expenses continue to balloon. Round-the-clock security to fend off the paparazzi, personal chefs to maintain their meticulously calibrated diets, stratospherically pricey real estate, $20,000-a-year private-school tuitions for the kids. And then there's the entourage. One movie star had two kitchens built, side by side, in his Beverly Hills home — one for the family, one for the posse. ''There are actors who have such incredible entourages, it's like a little moving city,'' scoffs one top studio executive. ''When they made The Godfather, do you think Al Pacino had these giant entourages?''
An A-list movie star's contract typically includes 30 to 40 ''perk points'' — in television, where perks tend to be more limited, the number is more on the order of 10. Each point involves some financial pain for the studio or network: say, $1,500 a week for an on-set nanny (one star actually asks for three for her baby), $3,000 a week for a private chef, $1,000 a week for a trainer, $10,000 a week for a personal assistant, $3,500 a week for incidental expenses, and so on down the line.
So far, so good — for the star, at least. What causes costs to truly spiral, however, are the standard ''most favored nations'' clauses that stipulate that whatever perks star A receives, stars B and C will get as well. ''There's pressure to make sure your star is as well taken care of as anybody else — or better,'' says entertainment lawyer Peter Nelson, who's negotiated perk packages for stars and directors (yes, they get them too). ''We're constantly seeking to push the edge.''
To see the effect of the perks arms race, consider the trailers actors kick back in during downtime. The whole idea of trailers was to make it possible for movie and TV productions to film on location and get from place to place quickly. Over the years, however, these mobile luxury suites have grown so enormous (see LINK HERE sidebar) that they can actually limit rather than expand the options for location shooting. When you have a single star asking for three trailers — one for himself, one for his gym equipment, one for his entourage — moving all these vehicles is like mounting a military campaign.
Then there's the matter of private jets. Once reserved for only the most elite, zipping around in a Gulfstream is now considered, for many stars, the only way to fly. ''I'm somewhat sympathetic,'' one studio exec admits. ''I mean, I can only imagine what it must be like for a really big star to walk through an airport. But it drives up the price of everything.'' Indeed, a round-trip in a private jet from New York City to Los Angeles can easily run upward of $60,000, and even if a star owns his own plane, the studio gets charged thousands of dollars a day for fuel and crew time.
... more at linked article
Yet these same individuals support tax-a-holics like it's nobody's business.
When will the screaming robin hood types start aiming at targets that deserve it? Hollywood is a "target rich" environment in more ways than one. These coddled babies, much like some over-paid and underworked professional athletes, pull in money like it's going out of style. Yet they too take advantage of every possible tax loop-hole, hoping to hide their income and these perks, or at least keep from having to see their scores drop in comparison to their cohorts piles of wealth and perks.
If someone truly wants to raise taxes, your targets should be in Hollywood. Take aim and start drawing fiscal blood from them. When you've sucked them dry enough to shut them up, then you'll have accomplished something. After that, you may find a lot less resistance to demands for increased payments to the government from "regular folk" who may be a bit more well off than a few others.
The New Age of Greed
Celebrity perks: How stars rake in millions -- Here's a surprising look at who's footing the bill for private jets, $3,000-a-week personal chefs, and the other extravagant extras celebs are demanding by Josh Rottenberg
Anyone who's brushed up against a major star has some tale of excess to tell: There is the suave actor who, starting a new TV series, required that the water feeding into his trailer be blessed by a shaman. There is the famous movie couple who demanded a separate private jet from Los Angeles to Europe just for their luggage, at a cost of $40,000. There's the pop singer whose dressing-room requirements while making a video for charity included $50 French candles and enough food to sustain a family of tsunami victims for a month. There's the TV bad girl who insisted the network erect a billboard for her show on a street where she knew an ex would drive past it. There's the actress who demanded Harry Winston jewelry to help her get into the role of a wealthy woman (because, you know, it was a stretch), then hid in her trailer when she was asked to give it back.
It's no major news flash that stars are a coddled breed — that's been their job description since the dawn of time. Celebrities are our royalty, as the cliché goes, and on some level we expect to see them act like it: showing off their McPalaces on Cribs, pulling up at premieres in Humvees, flauting ever blingier bling. Over the past decade, though, the entertainment industry has seen a dramatic spike in the level of pampering. In a culture forever pushing its obsession with affluence and status (remember when game shows gave out toasters and car wax instead of million-dollar checks?), keeping up with the Zeta-Joneses is becoming quite the financial challenge. And as the cost of the celebrity lifestyle rises, stars from the A list on down are passing as much of the expense as they can to those who hire them, demanding ''perk packages'' that can run into the millions of dollars. Movie studios, TV networks, and record labels, caught between the need to keep their top earners happy and the need to keep budgets down, are struggling to hold the line.
How much does it ultimately cost to maintain these lifestyles-of-the-rich-and-gluttonous fantasies? And, when the price of all the private jets, personal stylists, masseuses, and champagne is tallied up, who's getting stuck with the bill?
Voracious hunger for the trappings of wealth and privilege is usually associated with the me-me-me '80s, when Gordon Gekko proclaimed ''Greed is good'' and Van Halen demanded all brown M&M's be removed from their dressing-room candy dish. But by all accounts, Hollywood's current case of perk fever really began in the 1990s. As the film biz got caught up in an ever more Ahab-like pursuit of blockbuster glory, studios began to lavish unheard-of sums of money on the handful of actors who could theoretically guarantee a mass audience. ''When opening weekends became the big thing,'' says one studio chief, ''it tipped the balance so far in favor of the stars that it created all these crazy costs.''
With salaries for male stars topping out at a dizzying $20 million per picture, perks became, for many stars, an increasingly important way of keeping score. According to one entertainment lawyer who has negotiated perk packages, it's a matter of psychology: ''There's a lot of anger that comes from working your way up, being rejected and looked at as a piece of meat, and ultimately, perks may be some sort of sweet revenge. Sometimes the stars don't give a s--- who they piss off. They want what they want, and screw anyone else.''
Celebrities themselves would tell you, not without some justification, that their own expenses continue to balloon. Round-the-clock security to fend off the paparazzi, personal chefs to maintain their meticulously calibrated diets, stratospherically pricey real estate, $20,000-a-year private-school tuitions for the kids. And then there's the entourage. One movie star had two kitchens built, side by side, in his Beverly Hills home — one for the family, one for the posse. ''There are actors who have such incredible entourages, it's like a little moving city,'' scoffs one top studio executive. ''When they made The Godfather, do you think Al Pacino had these giant entourages?''
An A-list movie star's contract typically includes 30 to 40 ''perk points'' — in television, where perks tend to be more limited, the number is more on the order of 10. Each point involves some financial pain for the studio or network: say, $1,500 a week for an on-set nanny (one star actually asks for three for her baby), $3,000 a week for a private chef, $1,000 a week for a trainer, $10,000 a week for a personal assistant, $3,500 a week for incidental expenses, and so on down the line.
So far, so good — for the star, at least. What causes costs to truly spiral, however, are the standard ''most favored nations'' clauses that stipulate that whatever perks star A receives, stars B and C will get as well. ''There's pressure to make sure your star is as well taken care of as anybody else — or better,'' says entertainment lawyer Peter Nelson, who's negotiated perk packages for stars and directors (yes, they get them too). ''We're constantly seeking to push the edge.''
To see the effect of the perks arms race, consider the trailers actors kick back in during downtime. The whole idea of trailers was to make it possible for movie and TV productions to film on location and get from place to place quickly. Over the years, however, these mobile luxury suites have grown so enormous (see LINK HERE sidebar) that they can actually limit rather than expand the options for location shooting. When you have a single star asking for three trailers — one for himself, one for his gym equipment, one for his entourage — moving all these vehicles is like mounting a military campaign.
Then there's the matter of private jets. Once reserved for only the most elite, zipping around in a Gulfstream is now considered, for many stars, the only way to fly. ''I'm somewhat sympathetic,'' one studio exec admits. ''I mean, I can only imagine what it must be like for a really big star to walk through an airport. But it drives up the price of everything.'' Indeed, a round-trip in a private jet from New York City to Los Angeles can easily run upward of $60,000, and even if a star owns his own plane, the studio gets charged thousands of dollars a day for fuel and crew time.
... more at linked article
Yet these same individuals support tax-a-holics like it's nobody's business.
When will the screaming robin hood types start aiming at targets that deserve it? Hollywood is a "target rich" environment in more ways than one. These coddled babies, much like some over-paid and underworked professional athletes, pull in money like it's going out of style. Yet they too take advantage of every possible tax loop-hole, hoping to hide their income and these perks, or at least keep from having to see their scores drop in comparison to their cohorts piles of wealth and perks.
If someone truly wants to raise taxes, your targets should be in Hollywood. Take aim and start drawing fiscal blood from them. When you've sucked them dry enough to shut them up, then you'll have accomplished something. After that, you may find a lot less resistance to demands for increased payments to the government from "regular folk" who may be a bit more well off than a few others.

