Not being cynical about who really lives at Hollywood and Vine: Vine stars
I enjoyed this profile (perhaps with an air of gluckschmerz*) of a person of whom I’d never heard, Logan Paul–who is evidently a “star” on Vine. I was only barely aware that one could be a “star” on that platform and not at all aware that those “stars” make the kind of money they do.
It may seem cynical that I laughed out loud several times while reading about this 20 year old jock’s efforts to become an actor and practice “edgy” comedy. (I kept imagining Chris Klein’s character from Election doing the things Logan does in the article.) But it was also just genuinely comical that this is what kids are up to these days.
What I mean is, it’s not at all cynical to watch an inherently absurd quest for superstardom and chuckle. That’s what we’re supposed to do. Perhaps we feel it’s cynical because the subject of the piece is so obviously unaware of how absurd his life is but that doesn’t diminish the comedy. He isn’t making money in any cruel fashion (there are plenty of people his age making less money in jobs that do real harm to others). Logan is in the moment. He may not realize that his fame is as proportionally fleeting as a Vine’s length to a feature film but that’s another issue.
I mean, this does happen during his acting class…
“Everyone in this room feels full of shit! Everyone is full of shit!” the teacher says, turning around from the front row and addressing the students in the audience. “Who here feels like they’re full of shit?”
Nearly all of the students in the room raise their hands.
Logan does not.
He may not “get” the acting part of the biz but he did eventually learn the difference between a manager and an agent thanks to that documentary, Entourage. And while there are several other punch lines that I (or the piece’s author) might direct at him, in the end, it is Logan’s own father who gets in the funniest (if unintentional) line about his son’s career and aspirations.
I was grateful to the article for answering a query that has long plagued me. Every time I’m on Hollywood Boulevard, I wonder, who the hell lives in these apartments here? Now I know.
* Hey, I love that word “gluckschmerz.” Even if it is a made-up portmanteau, it is a clever combination of the German words “luck” and “pain.”