PressEthic

Whether it be Lindsay Lohan or Valerie Plame, our nation's most chased-after celebrity names have found public refuge in an almost amusingly ironical way--not by escaping the cameras and gossip into their hillside mansions, but by making an appearance in a Vanity Fair photo shoot. For a fleeting moment, an overexposed celebrity exists in a conscious state of harmony with the press: With every exclusive cover story, Vanity Fair maintains its status as the crown jewel of celebrity magazines, while its subjects are given both a chance to explain themselves to the public and showcase the intimidating extent of their stardom. After all, a Vanity Fair story may be the most important difference between B-list exposure and A-list glamour.

Considering all of this, it is no surprise that Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes decided to introduce the flesh-and blood product of their wildly public romance on the pages of Vanity Fair. Their decision, allegedly done without talks of compensation or photo auctions, could have been the culmination of several factors. The first and most obvious one could be a desire to protect their baby from paparazzi cameras, eager to sell the first glimpses of Suri Cruise for a large wad of cash. Perhaps an even more pressing one could be a need to legitimize their much-mocked affair (with a title declaring “Yes, Suri, She’s our Baby!” Vanity Fair appears to be aware of TomKat’s reasoning). With an intimate family album brought to life by Annie Leibovitz, the Cruise family could present themselves as a harmonious entity, not to mention end the questionings of baby Suri’s existence.

The accompanying article is brief (especially considering that Vanity Fair spent a whole week with the new parents), but gives a sufficient opportunity for Cruise and Holmes to come clean to the public. From singing along with the car radio to telling stories around the fire, they are portrayed like any normal, loving parents who put their children before their careers and wish for them to grow up in a better world. And, in case anyone was wondering, they do hate the intrusive coverage decorating magazine stands around the world. The article takes on a sunny point of view, and understandably so; after all, an opportunity for an exclusive cover shoot is rarely the occasion for criticism.

Tom and Katie are, however, simply dots in a larger constellation that is Vanity Fair. Throughout its existence, it has managed to fill a niche in the magazine world that most publications simply dream about: Rather than wasting time gossiping and quoting unnamed “friends,” the magazine serves as a forum in which celebrities themselves can open up. Fittingly, beyond its cover story, the publication rarely covers other celebrity news and instead offers its readers finely drawn societal commentary and investigative journalism. By doing major celebrity coverage only when it is first-hand, Vanity Fair is a highly credible journalistic venture that simply gathers some extra attention with its consistently sensational covers. In short, it is the only publication that comes to mind where undisguised celebrity PR is acceptable.

At least in my mind, Vanity Fair’s unique status brings to mind a slew of questions. Should we commend a magazine for luring people in to serious journalism with glossy celebrity covers or demean it for making this choice? Should we praise Vanity Fair for accepting the public’s obsession with celebrity or criticize it? Furthermore, in allowing sources to simply speak for themselves without attempting to draw additional judgments, is a journalist being honorable, or simply too eager to maintain good relations? Is Vanity Fair in a status of owing its celebrity subjects positive coverage? After all, if other celebrities began to follow in Lindsay Lohan’s tracks and frequently criticized Vanity Fair’s depictions of them, the magazine would certainly lose many offers for baby photo shoots or inside looks.