In a speech broadcast from Cape Town on her 21st birthday in 1947, Queen Elizabeth pledged that “we must give nothing less than the whole of ourselves” in making the Commonwealth “an even grander thing”. Her speech, with its appeal to duty, restraint and service, features in the new season of the Netflix drama The Crown.
The Duke and Duchess of Sussex are offering all of themselves in a different way, this week unveiling a deal for their production company Archewell Audio to make podcasts and shows for Spotify. “Hi guys, I’m Harry”, “And I’m Meghan,” the couple greeted listeners in a trailer for a holiday special they will host.
The Sussexes, who also signed a production deal with Netflix this year, are podcast royalty, alongside stars including Michelle Obama and Joe Rogan, the US comedian and martial arts commentator. They have translated their “passion for meeting people and hearing their stories” into a franchise.
In terms of reach and earnings power, it is a canny move to exchange the restrictions of the house of Windsor for the distribution platforms of Netflix and Spotify. Making your own shows and controlling your own image are easier when not constrained by royal protocol.
It equally says something wider about celebrity and the media: the performer’s power has outstripped that of publisher and broadcaster. Celebrities once relied on others to assemble an audience, but stars such as Prince Harry and his wife Meghan Markle can do it themselves.
The British monarchy is a media platform of a traditional kind — the individual is less important than the collective brand. The Queen would not express it in this way, but much of the loyalty it commands from citizens stems from its expertise in mass communication and live entertainment.
The Sussexes’ wedding in 2018, filled with pageantry and symbolism and broadcast globally, was a prime example. Meghan Markle already enjoyed some fame from acting in the series Suits; the family’s capacity to command attention for its members made it much greater.
But from the celebrity perspective, being part of the monarchy has two drawbacks. First, it is strictly ranked. Prince Harry has fallen to sixth in line to the throne, thanks to Prince William’s three children, and can do nothing to alter that — he is not a pop star who can top the charts with another hit.
The drama of rank, and the strains it imposes on the individuals who get pushed to the margins of succession and prominence, play out across several series of The Crown. The tension is intense when one member, such as the Duchess of Sussex, has greater celebrity than ordained.
Second, one of the disciplines of a constitutional monarchy is that its members have to keep their mouths shut or express themselves carefully. The Queen has occasionally “let in daylight upon magic”, as the Victorian historian Walter Bagehot put it, but mostly keeps her feelings hidden.
The greater the celebrity, the harder this is, as the glamour, travails and death of Diana, Princess of Wales proved. In announcing their “transition” from full-time royalty this year, the Sussexes cited their wish to remove “the supposed ‘public interest’ justification for media intrusion” into their lives.
It is debatable whether pursuing tabloids in the courts to block stories they regard as invasions of privacy or libellous is wise; I doubt it. But the larger point is that the couple have seized power over how they are portrayed, not only with legal actions but by becoming their own producers.
They are not alone. Individuals with names and expertise can now go direct to fans. The trend runs from the publishing of newsletters on Substack to performers being sponsored on Patreon; the internet provides a means of distribution for a personal brand.
A low-rent version is OnlyFans, a UK site that enables minor celebrities and performers to share photos and videos — of them wearing little, in many cases — with subscribers. They are drawn by the control it offers and the fact that they keep 80 per cent of revenues.
The Sussexes, with their deals at Spotify and Netflix, are at the posh end of the scale. But they are clever enough to know that fans now crave more from celebrities than a few red-carpet shots and magazine interviews — they demand at least a glimpse of intimacy.
One study of female US students who followed celebrities on social media found that they became more attached to those who shared aspects of their personal lives and showed some humanity. “It makes them more real if they joke and stuff . . . It’s like, ‘OK, they are human too,’” said one.
The couple has learnt the lesson, starting off their trailer with some Anglo-American flirtation. “[You] say it because I think it sounds really nice with your accent,” the duchess said. Their podcast was pilloried by the MailOnline for being “toe-curling”, but I detect a note of professional rivalry.
Given a choice between royalty and celebrity, the couple has picked (with some hedging) the latter. It shows as much about the media as the Sussexes that they are now the narrators.
john.gapper@ft.com
"story" - Google News
December 18, 2020 at 12:00PM
https://ift.tt/3p0QSuW
Harry and Meghan learn to tell their own story with Spotify - Financial Times
"story" - Google News
https://ift.tt/2YrOfIK
https://ift.tt/2xwebYA
Bagikan Berita Ini
0 Response to "Harry and Meghan learn to tell their own story with Spotify - Financial Times"
Post a Comment