When Everyone Wants to Believe A Celebrity Is Andy Kaufman’ing It

Ye, Taylor Swift (because Matty Healy), Lizzo, Doja Cat. When it comes to “wanting to believe” a celebrity is merely “putting you on,” the past year has provided no short supply of examples. Nor have the defensive reactions from fans insisting that everyone else deriding their “god” doesn’t know what they’re talking about, or that said “god” is simply “doing an act.” No one better embodies that latter category than Doja Cat. For, as her fans (or what’s left of them) have loved to suggest as a means to cushion the blow of her recent behavior, this entire “thing” she’s doing right now is just part of her “Scarlet persona”—or something. “Scarlet” being the name of the “character” she seems to be portraying. Or rather, an “alter ego,” if you prefer. Either way, fans are latching onto the idea that “she is now playing the role of Scarlet. They are two different characters. In an interview she said she apologized for what would happen later…she also said that she loved us before she got into the role of Scarlet. She doesn’t hate us, but Scarlet does since she’s evil. Doja doesn’t despise us, hate messages are from Scarlet!!!”

It’s a “grasping at straws” type of reasoning, but one that makes sense considering the post-reality era we’ve been living in since Andy Kaufman’s brand arrived onto the scene. Particularly a 1982 hoax involving pro wrestler Jerry Lawler. Specifically, the time that they battled it out on an episode of The David Letterman Show. With Kaufman already in a neck brace after Lawler supposedly performed the piledriver maneuver on him, Lawler slapped Kaufman during the interview, leading them into another altercation. One that was, as revealed over a decade later, entirely staged. This was the type of “comedy” (or rather, performance art) that not only made Kaufman stand out, but also made him a legend. Mainly for being so committed to his “act” that the truth about it would take years to be unearthed. This also being why many people still speculate that he’ll emerge one day and say his death, too, was a hoax. This “approach” to celebrity would start to catch on not just with other famous people in the twentieth century (see also: Jim Carrey [who, fittingly, portrays Andy Kaufman in Man on the Moon] at the 1999 MTV Movie Awards), but even non-famous people as well.

In other words, those members of the hoi polloi who got the message that “the hoax” was what got people’s attention. And with “reality TV”/daytime talk shows as an increasingly viable medium with which the average joe could secure his fifteen minutes of fame, the opportunities for creating false fanfare were ample. Case in point, a 1998 episode of The Jerry Springer Show (rebranded as part of “Springer Break” for MTV’s illustrious week of spring break programming), during which two roommates named Dave and Matt went on the show with Dave’s girlfriend, Caitlin. When Matt “confesses” he’s been fooling around with Caitlin, Dave goes completely apeshit on him to a level that clearly gets Springer both salivating and scared when the camera flashes to his reaction. In the end, it turned out the trio had bamboozled the talk show host, admitting the drama was completely manufactured. That yes, Dave and Caitlin were boyfriend and girlfriend, but that the affair with Matt was made up for the sake of quality 90s daytime TV. And so, taking into account how “the art of the hoax” and what it could do for germinal forms of virality had already trickled down into the culture of “normals” (a.k.a. non-famous people), its value became apparent to many. Especially as the twenty-first century progressed. 

That same “hoax-like” quality was also manifest in the comedic stylings of Sacha Baron Cohen, who brought his Borat character from Da Ali G Show to life in an even bigger way in 2006’s Borat (a.k.a. Borat! Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan). Interacting with “dyed in the wool” Americans who genuinely believe he’s some “ghastly” foreigner with no knowledge of American life or customs, the gimmick Cohen had in mind—to expose prejudice and racism entrenched in the very fabric of American culture—worked like a charm. Between a Southern frat boy warning Borat to “not let a woman ever ever make you who you are” to a Republican at a Virginia rodeo telling Borat he should shave his mustache to look more like an I-talian instead of a Muslim to a crowd of people at that same rodeo laughing at Borat’s thick accent before he delves into an offensive version the national anthem (“I now will sing our Kazakh national anthem to the tune of your national anthem”), the levels of misogyny, homophobia and xenophobia present in the U.S. are exposed at every turn. And all through the carefully-constructed ruse of a character like Borat. 

Less careful constructions aren’t always met with being hailed as “brilliant.” For example, in 2008, Joaquin Phoenix ostensibly had a “breakdown” (which was in rather poor taste considering Britney’s real one the same year) after announcing his plans to retire from acting so he could pursue a rap career. The result was a 2010 “documentary” directed by Casey Affleck. Quickly revealed to be a mockumentary, I’m Still Here (not to be confused with Todd Haynes’ impressionistic Bob Dylan biopic, I’m Not There, released three years before) was met with lukewarm reviews, with many critics seeming to feel that it failed as “good performance art.” Plus, it also happened to furnish the film set that would later put Casey Affleck in the spotlight for his sexually harassing tendencies, as well as promoting a work environment that encouraged sexual harassment (à la Lizzo). So really, what “artistic value” did it have apart from being an experimental vanity project?

The same can be said of whatever Doja Cat is “doing” right now. If, in fact, it’s contrived at all, and not just a desperate bid on fans’ part to validate her behavior (which also says something about the dangers of post-reality existence). This includes going off on their patheticness for saying they “love” her and trying to call themselves shit like “Kittenz” in honor of the way other fan bases have names (e.g., Ariana Grande’s Arianators, Taylor Swift’s Swifties, Charli XCX’s Angels, Kesha’s Animals, Lady Gaga’s Little Monsters, Nicki Minaj’s The Barbz, Beyoncé’s Beyhive, etc.). Doja made it apparent that not only does she think the people focusing their energy on this are total losers, but also that she doesn’t feel she “needs” them at all. At least not anymore. Not now that she has enough money to pursue whatever she wants creatively. Alas, she might quickly come to find that her overhead costs are no longer matching up with what she’s making if a legion of fans aren’t there to support her where it counts: financially. 

Whether or not this is a “stunt,” some believe Doja Cat is truly immune to public opinion (à la Ye) at this point and that, “No matter how you feel about Doja Cat, it is clear that she is living her life unapologetically right now. While some fans may be freaked out by it, she seems to be happy, which is all that matters.” No one appeared to have that stance about Ye, possibly because it’s as Dave Chappelle said and the one thing you can’t do in Hollywood is speak ill of the Jewish community. Not only “speak ill,” but also go on multiple venomous tirades regarding Jewish stereotypes and conspiracies. Starting with Ye tweeting in late 2022, “I’m a bit sleepy tonight but when I wake up I’m going death con 3 On JEWISH PEOPLE.” Apart from misspelling DEFCON, the most glaring aspect of the tweet was Ye’s plea for attention, no matter how negative. An escalating need for it that only amplified as he doubled down on his offensive rhetoric, complete with praising Hitler and dining with Donald Trump and a white nationalist Holocaust denier at Mar-a-Lago. All of this occurred at the end of 2022. As 2023 began, Ye became fodder for awards show hosts (i.e., Jerrod Carmichael) and South Park in between gradually fading into the background. Perhaps he’ll try to reemerge at some point and holler, “Gotcha!” It was all an act. Just like Andy Kaufman. Just like, as fans insist, Doja Cat. 

It’s the safest bet for coming back from bad behavior, after all. “Haha, just kidding! It was part of my ‘art.’” But, unlike Kaufman and Cohen (who Ye would be likely to point out are both Jewish so it must be some kind of conspiracy), the “performance art” being done now isn’t ironic, nor does it serve as a means to highlight a larger, unpleasant truth about humanity. Instead, the so-called performance art itself has become the larger, unpleasant truth about humanity. Even when people want to praise ultimately annoying actors and musicians, they’ll still dredge up Kaufman (because the devil can cite pop culture scripture for his purpose). For instance, Jennifer Lopez compared Jennifer Coolidge to Kaufman after working with her on Shotgun Wedding, in that you can never really tell if “that’s who she is” or she’s simply always “in character.” To put it another way, if she’s just making money off her natural persona in a similar way that Angus Cloud did with his Fez character (though it always irritated him when people wrote off his talent that way). 

To further debunk the idea that Doja Cat is just “trolling” everyone (therefore, her behavior is “fine”), musicians who have had alter egos in the past have known better than to “trust the audience” with being able to separate the singer from the alter ego without making it explicit. From David Bowie with Ziggy Stardust to Beyoncé with Sasha Fierce to Madonna with Madame X, these were “characters” that had entire albums constructed around them. Whatever Doja’s forthcoming album turns out to be called, even branding it as Scarlet isn’t going to be enough to backpedal on what she’s said and done at this point. And isn’t that what every celeb wants to do once they notice that their “artistic integrity” is affecting their bank account’s bottom line?