Desperately Seeking Structure: The Pitfalls of Celebrity Storytelling

Madonna’s self-written biopic reportedly cost Universal Studios $12 million before it got canned.

When you've conquered the world, one platinum album at a time, and dominated the stage on global tours, you might wonder, "How hard can it be to write a biopic?" But when that biopic is about yourself, and you're in the director's chair—let's just say, apparently pretty hard.

Pop icon Madonna recently attempted to write and direct a feature film about herself—a process she proudly documented on Instagram—only to realize that the lines between fact and fiction, ego and reality, were blurrier than she thought. Madonna reportedly worked with not one, but two highly lauded co-writers to craft the screenplay, only to scrap multiple drafts and keep Julia Garner, who was slated to star in the film, on standby while rewriting and extending her script deadlines. After Universal Pictures spent $12 million on the project, they eventually pulled the plug.

"Basically, they don't like it," a source told Page Six about Madonna's ever-evolving script.

As writers, we often feel insurmountable pressure to tell our own stories. We believe that no one can truly capture our experiences, our emotions, our essence. And yet, when you're a celebrity unaccustomed to being told no, penning your own narrative probably feels like navigating a funhouse mirror room—a dizzying exercise in selective memory, competing ideas, and questionable instincts about what truly matters in the grand scheme of the narrative.

That hasn’t seemed to deter many celebrities from going at it alone—often at a cost. Barbra Streisand has spent over a decade hemming and hawing over her long-anticipated memoir, a project she first discussed writing in longhand back in 2009. Originally slated for release four years ago, the memoir has finally emerged for pre-order last month after years of delays. Clocking in at a staggering 1,040 pages and accompanied by a 44-hour audiobook, it's a testament to both Streisand's determination and the potential pitfalls of unchecked narrative indulgence—a far cry from the restraint and objectivity often found in more finely tuned memoirs.

Because the famous are more prone to succumb to their own self-aggrandizement, it becomes more difficult for them to sift through their lives and pinpoint the truly defining moments. Their cognitive dissonance can also go into overdrive, striving to maintain a consistent self-image even when faced with contradictory evidence.

The obvious answer might be to get a ghostwriter—or not write a memoir at all! (The commercial pressures of the ubiquitous celebrity book deal often put people in the writer's seat who shouldn't be there, but that's a digression for another time.) But even a skilled collaboration requires trust, communication, and a willingness to let go of ego and control. Take David Ritz, for example, the wordsmith who teamed up with Aretha Franklin, the legendary Queen of Soul, to pen her memoir—only to later release his own unauthorized version. When your own ghostwriter goes rogue, you know there's a story to tell. Ritz eventually shared his discontent with the collaboration, expressing frustration over Aretha's reluctance to truly bare her soul.

A good editor is not just a proofreader, fixing typos and grammar errors. They are a collaborator, a partner in the creative process. They help us see beyond our own limited perspectives and biases. They can challenge us to think more deeply about our experiences and ideas, to question our assumptions and motivations, and to refine our words and narratives until they truly resonate with others.

Reflecting about his profession in The New Yorker, J. R. Moehringer, the wildly successful pen behind Andre Agassi’s and Prince Harry’s memoirs, writes: "One of a ghostwriter’s main jobs is having a big mouth. You win some, you lose most, but you have to keep pushing, not unlike a demanding parent or a tyrannical coach. Otherwise, you’re nothing but a glorified stenographer, and that’s disloyalty to the author, to the book—to books."

Last February, a glimmer of hope: Just when we thought Madonna's biopic was dead on arrival, Julia Garner threw us a curveball at the Vanity Fair Oscar’s party, hinting that the project may not have taken its final breath. Although Madonna's earlier attempts to write and direct a film about herself hit plenty of snags, perhaps with the guidance of trusted—or better yet, new and challenging—editors and collaborators, she can whip her overstuffed screenplay into shape and finally bring her story to the big screen.

"Fingers crossed," Garner quipped on the red carpet.