Rehab: Final refuge for wayward celebrities (News Feature)

By Andy Goldberg Apr 1, 2010, 2:52 GMT

Los Angeles - With the predictability of a Hollywood blockbuster plotline, word leaked out Wednesday that Jesse James had entered rehab.

The philandering husband of movie darling Sandra Bullock checked into the Sierra Tucson facility in Arizona, after at least four women came forward to say that they had affairs with the custom motorbike builder and reality TV star, during his five-year marriage to Bullock.

According to some reports, James cheated on Bullock with as many as 12 women.

The sordid story came just months after Tiger Woods was revealed as a similar Lothario. The golfing superstar, once widely seen as a paragon of family virtues, was unmasked late last year as an insatiable infidel, carrying on brazen affairs with porn stars, models, waitresses and seemingly any attractive woman who would have him, right under the noses of his colleagues, managers and - most importantly - his wife.

If both men were guilty of the similar indiscretions, they both invoked the same strategy of damage control. This involved issuing a heartfelt public apology, followed by the all-important stint in a rehab clinic.

'Jesse checked himself into a treatment facility to deal with personal issues,' a spokesperson told People.com to announce James' move. 'He realized that this time was crucial to help himself, help his family and help save his marriage.'

Celebrity rehab has been common since at least the 1970s, when the former first lady Betty Ford came clean about her addictions to alcohol and prescription drugs and founded the Betty Ford Centre to help people overcome similar problems.

Since then, some of Hollywood's best known stars have used such facilities to rehabilitate their lives - or at least their images, with an American public and court system that like a good dose of clinical treatment to help swallow claims of contrition and give someone a second chance.

Celebrity Rehab even has its own reality TV show of the same name, in which down-and-out, mostly D-grade celebs like Tom Sizemore battle their addictions in the glare of 24/7 TV cameras.

Celebs of higher standing must put up with the unwanted presence of the paparazzi as they duel with their demons.

Recent guests at some of the more luxurious establishments like Promises and the Wonderland Centre, where treatment can run thousands of dollars a day, include such well-known names as Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, David Duchovny and Robert Downey Jr. Fans of Michael Jackson can only wish that the former King of Pop would have agreed to a similar course of action.

Yet many question whether coddling stars in the lap of luxury is really the best way to force them to recognize their shortcomings.

'I feel something like proprietary outrage when I see rehab so cynically exploited by celebs and their damage-controlling publicists,' commented Los Angeles Times columnist Dan Neil.

'This is hitting bottom? Please. Rehab should be a cold, linoleum- lined institution, a place of thin mattresses, instant decaf coffee and veal cutlets that aren't exactly veal. I'm not suggesting rehab should be Devil's Island, but it should be alien, uncomfortable and a little humiliating.'

The writer of the blog celebritology.com was even more skeptical about the use of sexual addiction to excuse unfaithful behaviour.

'Is sex addiction rehab just the latest tool in the celebrity image rehab arsenal - the next stop after the mea culpa statement?' asked author Liz Kelly. 'I'm not convinced that cheating is something that should be treated in the same way as, say, meth addiction or alcoholism. Does an open zipper policy automatically indicate sex addiction?'

Whatever the doubts, The Wall Street Journal sees a great business opportunity.

'Is sex rehab the next big industry?' asked the paper's Damien Hoffman.

Noting that the TV doctor behind the Celebrity Rehab show had just launched a new series called Sex Rehab, Hoffman reached an obvious conclusion: 'I think we're witnessing the beginning of another boom for an American 'fix-it' industry.'