Every politician craves the blessing of a charismatic celebrity. At least until that celebrity has a change of heart and switches allegiances, at which point the newly jilted politician views his former celebrity friend the way a lamppost views a dog.
It has always been a Faustian deal: the politician basks in the shimmer of showbiz; the celebrity feels he’s not just another vaudeville turn, but someone who has Caesar’s ear. But it is a deal that fewer celebrities are keen to cut.
Most parts of the astrological chart today show a favourable electoral prospect for the Conservative Party — except for the black hole where a constellation of stars should be. David Cameron may ache to win the backing of Lily Allen. For now he’s stuck with the ancien r?gime of Jimmy Tarbuck, Paul Daniels and Ronnie Corbett: this is a Pro-Am golf team, not a Pied Piper posse to lure MTV-watchers to the ballot box.
The terms of trade have changed. An invitation to No 10 is no longer a big enough prize for celebrities to risk tainting their brand. Why risk alienating half your audience by anointing one party when you get more kudos by joining the fight against poverty or climate change? Should Conservatives worry? Up to a point; especially with “don’t knows”. Oprah Winfrey’s endorsement buoyed Barack Obama. Then again, while every Democratic presidential hopeful prayed to get Warren Beatty behind them, most dreaded getting the endorsement of Jane Fonda.
And some star-name backers, of course, go native. Ronald Reagan and Arnold Schwarzenegger became the Victor Kiams of celebrity endorsement: they liked the party they were backing so much they ran for office to represent it.