**The following includes discussions of sexual abuse, assault, rape, and other subjects that are otherwise triggering. Proceed with caution**
Long-time readers will know the affection and respect I have held for Joss Whedon over the years. I have written much about “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” “Angel” and the “Firefly” Universe, including recording commentaries for selected works about each. I was thrilled when he was tapped for the Marvel Cinematic Universe and I long “fancast” him to have a part to play in the “Star Wars” Universe over the years. His voice, his work, meant a great deal to me in my 20s as I was trying to figure out who I was going to be as an individual. In 2017, his ex-wife, Kai Cole, wrote about her marriage to him, and wrote about how he manipulated her psychologically in ways that made her question herself, and justify his behavior. As someone who bought into his reputation as a great “feminist” voice in Hollywood, it was appalling to read, and broke the spell he had, as an artist, on me. I don’t know why it was so easy for me to believe her, but I did; my opinion of Whedon changed immediately.
Last summer, Ray Fisher, who played Cyborg in the “Justice League” film, went public with allegations of abusive, unprofessional, disgusting behavior on Whedon’s part during that film’s reshoot process after Whedon took over the project when Zack Snyder stepped down after personal tragedy. Fisher shepherded attempts to get Warner Bros. to investigate his allegations, but unfortunately, the studio has shown no real attempts to give Fisher the fair investigation his allegations deserve, even though fellow cast members would eventually confirm Fisher’s allegations. Unbeknownst to us at the time, “Buffy” and “Angel” actress Charisma Carptener, who played Cordelia on both shows, cooperated in that investigation, and this past week, she spoke out about her own allegations about Whedon’s behavior towards her specifically, especially when she got pregnant on “Angel,” facilitating a rewrite to her character’s arc. Cordy’s arc, and how it ended, always felt at odds with the character, and even at the time, there were whispers of animosity between Whedon and Carptenter, which Charisma has hinted at over the years. Her full statement, however, is heartbreaking to read, and as more women from the Buffyverse showed solidarity with her, any ounce of respect for Whedon as an individual I still had vanished. Now one question remains- can I reconcile my love of his work, with my disdain for the man? To quote one of the songs from the “Buffy” musical episode, “Where do we go from here?”
In 2019, “Bohemian Rhapsody,” the biopic about Queen directed by Bryan Singer, who was fired shortly before production wrapped, but whom still has the directorial credit on the film thanks to DGA rules, won four Academy Awards, including Best Actor, and had also been nominated for Best Picture. Shortly after the nominations were announced, The Atlantic posted an expose that spanned a year of research which added more meat to the accusations of sexual assault and rape that have followed Singer since the early 2000s, but which have resurfaced in recent years. Although he had been persona non grata in acceptance speeches, and in the awards race in general, as the film has garnered industry acclaim in addition to its massive box-office success, many view its nominations, and wins, as a sign from Hollywood that they do not really care about #MeToo, #TimesUp, and other such movements for change and accountability by rewarding someone whose past digressions have been known about for going on two decades. They certainly have reason to feel that way, as Hollywood has proven itself, time and again, to be willing to forgive and forget if there’s profit to be made, as you’ll see with how many careers here were allowed to continue post-allegations. Personally, I think there’s plenty about the film as a whole that disqualified it from Oscar contention beyond the man whose name it credits as director, but what we’ve heard about Singer over the years, even before the Atlantic piece, was enough to make me disgusted with Millennium Films’s insistence of keeping him attached to the studios’s “Red Sonja” film before they finally decided to drop him months later; with him attached, I wasn’t interested.
When I posted the article to my Facebook, a friend chimed in criticizing the Hollywood machine for the persistent perverseness among its ranks, to which I responded as such: “I’m long past the point of idealizing celebrities and filmmakers, and accept that not only will all of them likely disappoint me, but some of them will crush me hard with who they are. Celebrate the art, and navigate the painful truths of the artists who make it as best you can.” I later continued, “It’s really the only way one can look at any art. Look at great directors- Fritz Lang, Alfred Hitchcock, Werner Herzog and Stanley Kubrick all engaged in awful behavior to make their films (though not as deplorable as Singer), but their art is often beyond reproach. I love ‘The Shining,’ but the abuse Kubrick directed towards Shelly Duvall and Scatman Crothers to get those performances is unacceptable.” It’s very easy to read this as a pretentious way of saying, “separate art from artist,” but the truth is, celebrity culture is a toxic lens to look at art through. Focusing on one person who made the art distracts from the art itself, especially when it comes to an art form with so many moving parts as cinema. (Although it’s sometimes unavoidable, as I’ll illustrate below, depending on how a filmmaker’s personal life is reflected through that art.) No single person is responsible for a film, or TV show, and while a director or producer is ultimately the one responsible for bringing those parts together, we often give them too much credit (or blame, in the case of Singer and “Bohemian Rhapsody”) at the expense of others whom played important roles in the film.
Let’s swing back to Whedon for a moment, as it was Kai Cole’s allegations, long before Ray Fisher and Charisma Carpenter twisted the knife further, that began me really thinking hard about the struggle of separating the art from the artist, and started to really loosen the grip celebrity worship had on me. “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” in particular, means as much to me as any piece of filmmaking or TV show has ever meant. A couple of years after Cole’s allegations, I finished a full rewatch of “Buffy” with my wife, and what I found was that while I remain a ferocious fan of the series, I can now look at it through the eyes of someone who doesn’t view it as the work of one, singular voice, but many voices, with a singular purpose. Whedon is not the end-all I once viewed him as, but his creation, which grew into something complicated and wonderful over seven seasons on TV, is still something I cherish deeply. Carpenter’s allegations will make an eventual “Angel” rewatch tough, though; and at some point, I suppose “Dollhouse” is due for a revisit.
(Before I continue, I want to say something specifically about “Buffy” Season Six, which I didn’t enjoy much at the time, but has definitely become one of the best seasons of the series upon multiple rewatches. Its villains, the “trio” of nerds Warren, Jonathan and Andrew, may be the weakest in their physical abilities against Buffy, but rewatching them in light of the rise of toxic fandom that rails against representation, SJWs and incel toxic masculinity that feels “owed” something by women (all things that existed at the time, but have become all the more amplified by social media), they may be even more real-world believable than they felt like even then. I wonder if Marti Noxon, who was the showrunner of “Buffy” its final two seasons, and has gone on to do great work like HBO’s “Sharp Objects” since, had primary input on how the trio was written, and had experience in dealing with such “fans,” at the time. They might be the best villains the show ever had, in retrospect, because of how authentic they feel.)
Though the #MeToo movement dates back to 2006, the past few years have seen a resurgence, especially in trying to hold Hollywood accountable for the culture of abuse and cover-up that allowed predators like Harvey Weinstein, and abusers such as Whedon and Singer, to maintain their position of power without repercussions. Over the years, Kevin Spacey, Bill Cosby, Louis C.K., Weinstein and others have seen their careers adversely affected by stories of their abuse coming out, and their attempts to either rekindle their careers, or make light of what they were accused of, have been met with scorn and criticism. All the while, I don’t know that there’s a person who loves cinema who hasn’t had to grapple with some complicated questions about how, and if, they can continue not just supporting a person’s future work, but also revisiting their past work. And while I don’t think it’s as easy as just not watching a film or TV show, I also am not here to judge anyone who thinks that’s the answer for them. This is to lay out my own feelings on the issue, and how I am approaching them for me, and me alone.
Let’s look at Mel Gibson. If you have known my mom at any point, you probably know that she was, one time, an obsessive fan of the actor-director, and that rubbed off on me as the years went on. Now, he is best known for his conservative religious views, put on display in “The Passion of the Christ,” as well as his personal transgressions that have shown him to be a disturbed human being, not only in terms of his views towards minorities, but women. (A look at his personal demons was written about in Vanity Fair after a 2010 incident with his girlfriend at the time here.) Her obsession with all things Gibson kind of ended around the point of “Passion’s” release (before his 2006 DUI arrest, and anti-Semitic rant, which was a turning point for a lot of fans), but we still took in his films together, and I still appreciate him highly as an on-screen presence and as a filmmaker. As an individual, however, he is sorely lacking, but I don’t know if I could ever NOT watch the “Lethal Weapon” or “Mad Max” films, or “Signs” and “Conspiracy Theory” again because of it; I especially could not imagine removing “Braveheart,” a film which had a great amount of personal significance for me in what the James Horner score meant to me when I heard it, from my life. If you can, however, and have an issue with how Gibson was basically welcomed back into Hollywood with open arms after the Oscar-winning success of “Hacksaw Ridge,” I completely get it. For what it’s worth, I haven’t really run out to watch a new Gibson starring vehicle since 2012, though I did greatly admire his work on “Hacksaw Ridge;” his recent run of pulpy “direct-to-video” (for lack of a better term) films hasn’t inspired me to go looking too hard for them, though.
With Sonic Cinema, one of the things I try to do is to bring my personal relationship with films, and cinema in general, to a larger audience. I chart my viewings of new movies over the year with reviews, and look at older films on a regular basis with my “A Movie a Week” (now “Repertory Revues”) series. Part of the rationale for “Repertory Revues” is to not just write about new movies from the past I had never seen before, but movies I wanted to write about, but didn’t have the platform for when I first watched them. Some of these movies are from filmmakers whose lives, and careers, have been forever shaded by abuse accusations. One of those is Woody Allen, whose personal life has been forever clouded by not only his romantic relationship with his ex-girlfriend Mia Farrow’s adopted daughter, but also the accusations that he molested their adopted daughter, Dylan Farrow, in 1993 after his romantic relationship with Soon-Yi Previn became public. I have never had the personal attachment to Allen’s work that many others have, but I do have admiration for a number of his films as I’ve made my way through his work, and because his voice is such a strong one in film comedy over the past five decades, I feel it would be disingenuous to completely shut him out of my conversation of cinema at Sonic Cinema. Having said that, however, I have felt less inclined to go back to watch every single one of his films I may have missed, or may not have reviewed, as the years, and discussion, go on about his difficult-to-stomach personal life, which is probably the most complicated of any person I will discuss in this post. (Edit: This was written prior to HBO’s “Allen v. Farrow” documentary miniseries, after which I feel less conflicted on this particular subject.) There are at least a handful of films I have left of his that I want to write about for personal reasons, but as far as watching new films of his, I’m not terribly inclined to. (The same goes for Roman Polanski. His career trajectory was forever altered after he fled America after being found guilty of raping a minor in a case that has been chronicled many times over the years, and with several twists and turns, but some films of his that have not been reviewed here before- especially “The Pianist” and “Chinatown,” among others- will be reviewed here, because they are honestly too vital to my personal moviegoing life, and film history, to be excluded.)
In 2019, I revisited Sam Mendes’s “American Beauty,” both for my “Class of 1999” series for the Sonic Cinema Podcast, as well as for “A Movie a Week.” Of all of Kevin Spacey’s films I’ve loved over the years, it was probably the one I was most dreading revisiting after his career has been forever tarnished by the accusations of sexual assault brought against him. He was probably the actor/filmmaker whose accusations hit me the hardest, at the time, outside of Whedon’s, and not just because he has been a part of so many of my favorite films over the years. Though I still think “American Beauty” is a terrific piece of filmmaking, I don’t know if I can ever bring myself to rewatch it again, and not just because of Spacey’s arc where he lusts over Mena Suvari. It’s an uncomfortable film, in general, and Spacey’s personal flaws make it tougher to watch, and not in the same way I think Mel Gibson’s personal demons enhance his work in Jodie Foster’s “The Beaver” or “Lethal Weapon.” Does that mean all of Spacey’s work will hit me the same way? No. My favorite film of 2017, Edgar Wright’s “Baby Driver,” held up because of what a bastard Spacey is in that film, and I think my favorite Christmas film of all-time, Ted Demme’s “The Ref,” will be safe, though that is one that, like “Braveheart,” I would have trouble erasing from my life, also. In November, I finally rewatched “The Usual Suspects,” which put Spacey (and Bryan Singer) on the map for me, and the moods and storytelling savvy of that one continued to work for me, despite what we know of those two; given how successful his career has been since he began collaborating with Tom Cruise, we can probably chalk that W up more to Christopher McQuarrie’s Oscar-winning script, in the long run.
That brings me back to the person who inspired this post in the first place back in 2019- Bryan Singer. There is one film of his that I’ve been wanting to revisit for the purpose of a review for Sonic Cinema, and that is his 1998 thriller, “Apt Pupil.” I really liked it at the time, and I’ve been curious to watch it again to see if it held up for me. Knowing what I know now, however, knowing that Singer’s own abuse scandals start with that film’s production, I really do not know if I will ever rewatch the film. I don’t know that I will be able to separate the horrors that supposedly happened on set with how the film functions as a piece of storytelling, and that is a shame. Just like people who cannot look at a large part of Allen’s work without seeing the creepy sexual fetishes that have shown themselves in his real life, or people who cannot watch Mel Gibson’s films without being disgusted by the martyr complex that so obviously drives him, “Apt Pupil” is a film forever tainted for me because of who its maker is as an individual. It is not the only one; one film you will never see a review of on this website is Bernardo Bertolucci’s “Last Tango in Paris,” where the director and his star, Marlon Brando, conspired to sexually assault Maria Schneider with a stick of butter, without her knowledge, for the sake of authenticity for their “art,” and traumatized the actress for the rest of her life, as a result. And do not expect to see reviews, or mention, of the “Jeepers Creepers” series, or any other films, by Victor Salva on this site beyond this post; the convicted sex offender is one whose work didn’t impress me enough when I first saw “Jeepers Creepers” to keep up with his films, and the fact that he has been able to mount productions for three decades since his conviction for child molestation and child pornography is sickening.
I could go on. Harvey Weinstein is someone whom I hope ends up in jail for the rest of his life for what he did to actresses and careers, but I always found him to be a bully and trash anyway. For the saga of Johnny Depp and Amber Heard, it feels as though both sides have demons they have to work through; it’s hard to see either one as purely innocent, and right now, I’d prefer to see neither in films for a while, although I do have affection for much of Depp’s work, and enjoy the goofy charms of “Aquaman.” And there are many other individuals and films I could mention here that are examples of the problematic place Hollywood, both its past and present, finds itself in. Hell, one of my original inspirations as a film critic, Ain’t It Cool News‘s Harry Knowles, is another person whose work is forever tarnished for how he’s treated not only several women over the years in the Austin area, but people who contributed to his site. The truth is, there are probably a majority of films made each year that will either involve people who have made choices, or done things, that we do not approve of morally, or depict something that makes us uncomfortable, or are made by people who have worked with abusers like the ones above and not spoken out against them. (“Apt Pupil” starred Sir Ian McKellen, who later worked with Singer again on the “X-Men” franchise. Is any fan of the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy going to stop watching those films because he worked with Singer? Where is the outrage against Hugh Jackman for not speaking out about Singer?) The best thing anyone can do is take each film on a case-by-case basis, each person on a case-by-case basis, and maneuver their way through the minefield Hollywood has become over the years in the best way that they can. And be honest with yourself about how you approach it, while also respecting that other people will handle it differently, even if you disagree with it. Some people may not be in the same place you are with your thought process, and your thoughts on the matter are subject to change later.
I originally wrote blog in 2019, when these issues about #MeToo and #TimesUp were fresher on my conscious. My reasons for holding it off for so long are personally complicated, but I’m glad I did, actually; not only am I able to address my feelings about Whedon deeper because of the allegations of Fisher and Carpenter (whom I believe), but because, after watching “Bombshell,” the dramatization of Roger Ailes’s downfall at Fox News after Gretchen Carlson sued him for sexual harassment, in preparation for the 2020 Oscars, I wanted to share my thoughts on that film in this space, as well. In a way, I almost wish isn’t wasn’t a dramatization of this story, and had the perspective it had, because I think it almost does a disservice to the story by focusing more on Megyn Kelly’s career at Fox News, and how it ended, and not being about Carlson from the outset. It’s nonetheless a compelling movie to watch in perspective of this subject, though, and you can hear my thoughts on it below.
I want to close this out by quoting a review of the documentary about Michael Jackson’s abuse allegations over the years, “Leaving Neverland,” which made its debut on HBO in March 2019. These words really stood out to me, and represent how difficult it can be for people to reconcile new, painful information about a celebrity they love with their affection for that person. At one point in his review, David Ehrlich writes, “It’s not easy to reconcile a living god with the foibles of a troubled human being; at a certain point, the two almost become mutually exclusive. And it only gets harder when that iconic figure played such a foundational role in so many of our lives, because severing a major connection of the past can feel as scary and irrational as climbing out on a tree branch and sawing it off behind you.” I honestly could not have said it better myself.
Viva La Resistance!
Brian Skutle
www.sonic-cinema.com
