That’s right. It’s time for me to come out to the whole world with my “anti-Disney” smear campaign. (insert old Southern lady voice here): Used to be you worked your way up to Hollywood. You made in on Broadway first as a starlet, then, if you got lucky, made the big leap to film. You worked the Catskills until some big time Jewish producer vacationed there one summer and saw “something special” in you. You ran the burlesque circuit until you became someone’s mistress ans he got you a break. (end voice) Then came the 90s, where all you had to do was be cast as a perky nymphette in The New Mickey Mouse Club or a remake of an old childhood classic. And that’s when the “starlette breeding” began. Get ‘em young and naive; and I’m not talking Eve Harrington young; eleven, twelve. They’re star-struck. They’re parents are easily won over with talk of saving away a little nest egg for college tuition or vacations to the Bahamas. Of course, you have to find one with inherent sex appeal, the kind that will, you hope, if you plan to get a return on your investment, blossom with her budding breasts. That’s right, don’t think for a second that the casting agents aren’t thinking long-term on that one.
And then, when they reach the age of consent, throw them to the wolves. Claim you wash your hands of them, that they don’t “represent the Disney image” anymore. Then continue to laugh your way to the bank every time “The Parent Trap” is played on cable.
And we just eat it up; buying their chaste/untouchable sex kitten image until they go and do exactly what we’ve been implicitly asking them to do all along, which is make a spectacle of themselves, and then act shocked.
You! You are responsible for this*, Michael Eisner! You!
*Now why do you think Viacom wouldn’t want that sweet little video of the Britster’s amazing comeback floating around the Internets?
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