Portrait of the artist as a former child star
For a whole generation of television watchers, the fates of former child stars
are like a bad traffic accident: we don't like to look at them, but we can't
look away. As California director Joal Ryan found making her new film -- which
is loosely based on the life of Diff'rent Strokes teen-idol-gone-wrong
Dana Plato -- there is a little bit of former child star in all of us.
by Ellen Barry
In the end, it's the details that haunt us. It's Gary Coleman (Arnold) at the
opening of his video arcade, which contains very few video games, selling his
autograph for five bucks a shot. It's Todd Bridges (Willis), arrested again in
January, this time for ramming someone with his car in a video-arcade dispute.
And -- long after Arnold's molestation and Nancy Reagan's guest appearance are
forgotten forever -- it's Dana Plato (Kimberly), whose video-store rampage
began when she was turned down for a job picking up garbage.
We can change the subject to welfare reform or asteroids, but the images stick
with us: Erin Moran (Joanie), waitressing in a diner two hours outside of LA,
sending her regrets to the Happy Days reunion; Danny Bonaduce of The
Partridge Family rushing a transvestite prostitute in an Arizona
convenience store; Jay North, once Mr. Wilson's pint-sized nemesis on Dennis
the Menace, spending his golden years as a prison guard in Florida.
And even when we're not looking for them, former child stars pop up spookily
at the margins of the industry: Real People's tot correspondent
Peter Billingsley in his underwear, astride a mostly naked blonde, hitting her
with a riding crop on a made-for-cable sitcom; Lisa Whelchel (Blair Warner on
The Facts of Life), hawking fitness equipment on a late-night
infomercial; a thousand Arnold Horshacks playing themselves on a thousand
episodes of Ellen.
Ever since the day '20s moppet Jackie Coogan subpoenaed his mother,
former child stars have instilled in Americans a reflexive tingle of
uneasiness, as if, somehow, we had to answer for no longer considering them
cute. But in these nostalgia-soaked times, our hunger for the goods on former
child stars has grown obsessive, and -- what's more -- former-child-star
tracking capabilities have shot forward into the 21st century.
Log on to the WASHED-UPdate web page, and in a matter of seconds you
can be faced with the career trajectories of Anson "Potsie" Williams and Donny
"Ralph Malph" Most. One link away, and you're comparing accounts of Soleil Moon
Frye's 18th birthday party. Apocrypha is everywhere. The truth and the fiction,
equally strange, meld together in a grotesque mass of information. (For the
record, Eddie Haskell was not Johnny "Wadd" Holmes. Cindy Brady never
sold her body; she is involved in silk-screening.) There are more Baby Janes
than ever, and less space for them to hide in.
It was with an eye toward this morbid fascination that California filmmaker
Joal Ryan began filming Former Child Star, a tale of faded celebrity and
petty crime loosely based on the career of Dana Plato. Ryan's project rapidly
expanded to include an e-zine called Former Child Star-Palooza, which
features an entire column devoted to former child star sightings, which
runs along these lines: "I shared a table with JOEY LAWRENCE at a country
club." What Ryan set out to do was tap an odd pop-culture fixation. What she
has discovered is an unpredictable depth of feeling.
"Former child stars, they just -- I don't know -- freak us out," Ryan says.
"It might be a peer thing."
Ellen Barry can be reached at ebarry[a]phx.com.