Exploiting the Exploiters

THE TRAGIC DEATH of Playboy's 1980 Playmate Dorothy Stratten (masterfully depicted by Bob Fosse in his latest movie Star 80) could easily become ammunition for moralists, anti-capitalists, and anti-porn feminists; for at first glance it offers an indictment of the sexual and economic exploitation of women in American society. This would be unfortunate, however, because the issues raised by her case add up to a social dilemma which is too complex to be solved by simplistic thinking.

The moralist explanation for Stratten's violent end at the hands of her small-time promoter husband would probably go like this: "Women who do naughty things such as posing in the nude are simply asking for trouble."

This view carries as little weight with most people as it deserves. Nevertheless, there are still people around who would like to burn a letter into the breast of every woman who behaves in what they judge to be an "improper" manner.

The anti-capitalist argument, interpreting Stratten's misfortunes as an inevitable result of capitalist exploitation, would focus on the Disneyland nature of Hefner's Playboy empire (as Fosse does) and on the insatiable appetite of a capitalist society for junk food, junk movies--in short, junk values. It would also point an accusing finger at the American propensity for materializing and objectifying life; through, for example, the starmaking machinery in New York and Los Angeles, which manufactures individuals into cardboard cutouts and then expresses shock when they age, bleed or die.

Last, but perhaps most relevant for our time, would be the argument of some feminists that pornography incites contempt for women and thereby encourages men to exploit and abuse them, as Paul Snider did Dorothy. The correlation (and presumed casual relationship) between media representation of women and their mistreatment has been a prevailing feminist maxim for so long that it has assumed the aura of fact in some circles. Since the '60s there has been an open and often heated debate between people who are fearful of the deleterious effects of erotica and pornography on society and those who are more concerned about the dangers of censorship. The former point to, among other things, rape statistics in certain cities; while the latter point to, among other bits of evidence, the low crime rate and apparent boredom with the sex market among over-exposed Scandinavians. Given the lack of hard evidence behind either side, the debate will probably go unresolved for as long as Americans remain protected by the First Amendment.

A more reasonable and cautious analysis of the late Stratten's hapless situation centers around the perceptions and nature of Americans themselves: In contrast to Europeans, Americans have apparently failed to integrate different aspects of life. They tend to compartmentalize love, sex, work, etc. But is this a sufficient excuse for Americans to prevent a woman from being treated as an object of sexual desire and an intelligent human being at the same time? Male idols like Richard Gere, Robert Redford, Sylvester Stallone, and Tom Selleck have been able to exploit their masculine appeal without losing control of their lives in the process. Perhaps a society which is capable of viewing men, but not women, on more than one level (i.e., sexual and professional) simultaneously, needs to be enlightened.

There was nothing inevitable about Dorothy Stratten's nightmare. The culprit in her case was not an evil system, but rather a society which fails to equip its young women with the facts and self-assertiveness necessary for them to make sensible decisions in a world that is free, but also harsh, hazardous, and confusing. Had Stratten recognized herself from the start as an individual with rights--despite her sex-kitten looks--she would have viewed herself as a corporation, instead of as an object of Snider's genuine affection. Indeed, a growing number of models and actresses (such as covergirl Carol Alt, who was even younger than Stratten when she began making astute financial and professional decisions) are taking charge of their careers in such a realistic manner. And there is a growing, and increasingly visible, crop of female sex symbols (among them Barbara Carrera, Victoria Principal and Raquel Welch) whose firm grips on their own careers make someone as passive as Dorothy look like a relic of a previous century. The achievements of such women do not contribute anything to the major philosophic or epistemological issues of our time, as models and entertainers that is not their function. They are simply in business within a free market economy. Their careers need neither inspire nor offend anyone. Armed with this independent outlook. Stratten could have become president of her own "company" (i.e. her professional self) and ruler of her own life; instead, she became one man's pawn and victim.

TOWARDS the end of his Star 80 review Vincent Canby of the New York Times wrote, "The story of Dorothy Stratten is pathetic, but only another Playboy model might find it tragic." Anyone who sees the movie will detect the narrowness of his statement. During the last scene, when Dorothy removes her clothes and lamely offers herself to her lunatic husband/captor, actress Mariel Hemingway (who portrays her) virtually redefines the word "heartbroken": Her eyes and posture convey the sudden wisdom, tragic in its belatedness, of a naive individual who finally realizes that she has not been loved at all, but only used. To dismiss Stratten's murder just because she journeyed into a corner of the world which most people find distasteful and irrelevant would be a waste; her fate provides a valuable lesson for all women, especially the young, throughout American society.