In late October, amidst the tensions of a looming United States election, the world witnessed the birth of a new kind of democratic event – the celebrity lookalike contest.
It all began with the Timothée Chalamet event in New York, whena bunch of mop-haired, square-jawed lookalikes descended upon Washington Square Park, all for a small trophy, a $50 cash prize, and the knowledge they (vaguely) resemble a Hollywood star.
The contest was a raging success; hundreds of onlookers stopped by, there were four arrests, and Chalamet himself even turned up to meet his doppelgangers. And since then, dozens of copycat lookalike contests have popped up around the world.
In Dublin, Ireland, mulleted men in short shorts compared thighs in the hopes of having their likeness to Paul Mescal verified with €20 and a few pints. In Chicago, apron-wearing, bedraggled men resembling Jeremy Allen-White put it all on the line for $50 and a pack of cigs. And in San Francisco, a host of handsome South Asian men (and women looking for boyfriends) showed up to the Dev Patel lookalike contest.
Now, it’s New Zealand’s turn. On Saturday November 30, the Edge radio station is holding a Jason Momoa lookalike contest at Auckland’s Mission Bay, with a winning prize of $1000.
Dev Patel in the 2016 movie Lion. Photo / File
It’s unclear exactly what the criteria are for these celebrity lookalike contests, but one thing is certain: they’ve been an exercise in pure, joyously human absurdity, and a rare example of a completely grassroots, organic online moment translating into real-life events.
But what’s actually behind the sudden rise in celebrity lookalike contests?
Auckland University of Technology communications lecturer and pop culture expert Thomas Watts says it’s not necessarily a new thing – lookalikes and impersonators have always been around in popular culture.
“Impersonators are quite an interesting phenomenon, because there’s quite a lot of skill attached to them ... you start with the mannerisms, the movement, the voice, and the look almost comes after.
“A lookalike contest is a much more simple exercise than an impersonator, per se, because you just need to look like the person to some extent.”
Timothée Chalamet recently crashed his own lookalike competition. Photo / Getty Images
Watts says the celebrity lookalike contests may have seen a sudden rise in popularity because they’re “fun and silly and easy to understand”.
“Someone either looks like Timothée Chalamet or they don’t. Or people look like Timothée Chalamet to a certain extent, and then you have to try and work out what are the things that makes someone the most Timothée Chalamet, what are those kind of elements?
“In terms of that sudden rise, it’s got elements of a trend, but it’s got very deep roots in the past. I think at its heart there’s a level of celebrity culture that exists and we like celebrities, especially big celebrities, that there’s enough of an understanding of who they are, for the average person to go, ‘Oh yeah, I’ve got a friend that looks like Timothée Chalamet or Jason Momoa’.
What makes them so popular and joyful?
Celebrity lookalike contests are low-stakes fun with just enough substance in them to keep people interested, Watts says.
“They’re a silly way for people to come together, and I think as humans, we love a bit of an abstract competition ... you still have heats and tasks that people have to do, there are challenges, and so as a result, you get a bit of an event out of that ... everyone’s getting very emotionally invested into something that doesn’t mean heaps to the functioning of a society, but is good, silly fun.
“And then you have a line-up of a whole lot of people who have elements of Jason Momoa and you have to work out, what makes Jason Momoa, Jason Momoa.
“I’d love to see the criteria they’re using to assess exactly all the things you need to do to be the most Jason Momoa lookalike. Do you prioritise hair over size? Do you get bonus points for tattoos? Does your acting ability slot in there? It’s an interesting one.”
Where are the lookalike contests for women celebrities?
The contests so far have largely all been for male celebrities, with the exception of a small Zendaya lookalike contest in Oakland, the US, on Wednesday. Watts suggests this discrepancy could be because of an element of discomfort in ranking and rating women.
“There are a number of celebrity lookalikes on social media, people that have made their own identity around looking or dressing like a celebrity. There are quite a few people who do this for Taylor Swift ... but with competitions, I think, you’d feel slightly less comfortable if you’re assessing a female celebrity lookalike because of how they fit a beauty standard.
“At that point it feels like you’re objectifying the person which ends up feeling slightly archaic, almost like a beauty competition, and I feel like you kind of ignore that with your Harry Styles and your Jeremy Allen White and your Heath Ledger, because I think you can ignore that question of objectifying and overly perceiving someone.”
Will the contests die down any time soon?
Watts says we may be reaching the peak of the celebrity lookalike events. The nail in the coffin? When they stop being organic, fan-driven events, and start becoming a tool for PR.
“I think with a lot of these online trends, there’s often the question of who’s driving them ... maybe we’ll see a large corporate do a celebrity lookalike event, or maybe a cringy political party doing that, and that will be where we kind of jump the shark, so they will die down.
“With most of these things, there’s always someone who’s kind of pushing for it, you kind of need someone with some form of resource. In the case of the Timothée Chalamet one, there was a YouTuber driving it, in the case of Jason Momoa, the Edge radio station is driving that.
“The woman who was trying to find someone who looked like Jacob Elordi in Melbourne, this is one of my favourites because it was very low-key, very few people showed up.
“In fact I don’t think any men showed up for the Jacob Elordi lookalike competition, so she ended up giving the cash prize to a guy that just happened to be in the park that she was in. A $50 cash prize, that’s not bad.“
The public spectacle of it all
Watts says the rise of celebrity lookalike contests is not unlike the viral mobilisation of flash mobs in the early 2000s.
“I’m old enough to remember flash mobs before they got really uncool. People will say they were always uncool, I don’t think that’s true, I think flash mobs absolutely had their time in the sun because it was an interesting thing where there was an in group and an out group, and it was things that were organised online that enabled you to create your own lore around creating a bit of a public spectacle.
“It was an interesting thing going on in a public space, and that’s what’s fun about all of these [lookalike contests], they’re all taking place in public, which means there are people that know about what’s going on, and there’ll be people walking past bemused or confused, but it’s really easy to get behind.
“It’s just good, dumb fun. It’s like Bird of the Year ... it’s a package to talk about how much we love birds, but it’s the competition that is the vessel for that. This is a vessel for people to talk about our relationship with celebrity, and for that everyday punter who’s always been told they look like Jason Momoa to be like, ‘Yeah, and I’m gonna prove it now’.“
