Tag: Harvey Weinstein

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Opinion The Last Word

Show and Tell: 59 Men and Counting

CREDIT: Denis Makarenko | Dreamstime

It’s a given that men are dogs and pigs, but, my God, the description of Harvey Weinstein’s conduct was shocking to me — then I talked to my wife. In my naivete, I never realized this ugly conduct happens all the time. Melody was and is an attractive woman, which means that since she was 16, practically every man she’s ever known has hit on her, including a cop and a former teacher. She’s seen it all — flashers, gropers, masturbaters, heavy breathers, and aggressive advances from acquaintances and co-workers both young and old.

And her female friends said these encounters are common with them, as well. Everyone had a tale to tell. Some of Melody’s stories were too harrowing to repeat. Fortunately, she escaped these incidences unharmed. The 30 women who accused Weinstein of sexual abuse over 20 years weren’t so lucky. Weinstein’s victims include a Who’s Who of Hollywood actresses — Gwyneth Paltrow, Ashley Judd, Angelina Jolie — and Rose McGowan, who refused a $1 million hush-money offer and called out Hollywood talent agencies as being “guilty of human trafficking.” It only took one brave woman telling her story to The New York Times to open Pandora’s Box, so to speak.

Weinstein initially denied engaging in nonconsensual sex, but his unspeakable behavior was common knowledge at Miramax, the company he founded. Weinstein has reached seven settlements with other victims.

Weinstein’s predatory conduct was appalling because it was so disgusting. He invited women to his quarters and reappeared in a bathrobe, exposing himself. Ashley Judd was asked to watch him shower. Other unassuming targets were told that watching him masturbate would help their careers. Weinstein has been accused of giving alcohol to a minor, rape, and assault.

The bloated, bearded swine blamed his behavior on coming of age in the 1960s, when the rules were different. No they weren’t. Only in Hollywood could a dirtbag feel so entitled and powerful that women would surrender to his nascent charm. He had the power to make or break an actress’ career, and if rebuffed, he would go out of his way to punish them. After the Weinstein allegations, 59 more men in politics and entertainment have been accused of abhorrent sexual behavior, and the list is growing every day.

Denis Makarenko | Dreamstime

Harvey Weinstein

For 20 years, viewers spent their mornings with Matt Lauer. After learning that he had a button under his desk to lock women in his office and pull the old Harvey Weinstein bathrobe routine, I feel duped. It’s like if Dick Van Dyke were arrested in a child pornography sting. Same goes for Charlie Rose, fired by CBS, PBS, and Bloomberg for making lewd phone calls and incidences of groping. Thoughtful and soft-spoken political analyst Mark Halperin, co-author of Game Change, masturbated behind his desk while meeting with a female colleague. The hot comic Louis C.K., writer and director of the classic movie Pootie Tang, did bits about masturbation in his stand-up act. Now we know he wasn’t kidding. Accused of exposing himself and asking women to watch him masturbate, his upcoming comedy special and a new movie release have been cancelled.

The list goes on: Kevin Spacey, Jeffrey Tambor, Dustin Hoffman, Garrison Keillor (!) for God’s sake. Bill O’Reilly paid out $13 million to five women. Former Fox News host Gretchen Carlson successfully sued Fox Chairman and CEO Roger Ailes for $20 million for “unwanted sexual advances.” Ailes took the easy way out and died earlier this year. Of course, there’s accused child predator and our probable new Senator from Alabama, Roy Moore, cruising teen hangouts to make new friends. He claims all of his accusers are lying.

We have obviously reached a tipping point in male-female relationships. The old dinosaurs are going down, and the push is finally on for women to be believed. But must we blindly believe all women? Case in point is Senator Al Franken and his accuser, radio personality Leeann Tweeden. On a 2006 USO tour in Afghanistan, when Franken was still a comedian, Tweeden said Franken forcibly kissed and groped her. She later wrote Franken, “grabbed my breasts while I was sleeping and had someone take a photo of you doing it, knowing I would see it later and be ashamed.” Franken immediately apologized and called for an ethics investigation on himself, which was smart, because it could force Tweeden to testify under oath. The photo mentioned was childish and sophomoric but contradicts Tweeden’s account. She is asleep in a cargo plane wearing a flack jacket while Franken’s hands are hovering over her chest while he smiles for the camera — obviously a joke — a stupid one, but a joke just the same. Tweeden was a regular on Sean Hannity’s nightly propaganda broadcast, and a Trump supporter. Sounds like a hit job to me, yet some are demanding his resignation. Which brings us to the most blatantly hypocritical pot-and-kettle dilemma. Over the past two decades, taxpayers have paid $17 million for hush money and to settle Congressional sexual harassment charges for 264 Congressional staffers and other legislative employees. One other question remains: When is Donald Trump going to sue those 20 women who accused him of predatory sexual behavior, like he promised?

Randy Haspel writes the “Recycled Hippies” blog.

Categories
Opinion Viewpoint

Predatory Behavior

In 2004, I wrote a column about Bill O’Reilly’s alleged sexual harassment of Andrea Mackris, one of his producers. Her suit charged that O’Reilly pressured her to have telephone sex with him. Mackris had taped some of their conversations, including O’Reilly’s threat that he would destroy any woman who retaliated against him. A transcript of that call was conveniently available on the Internet.

The consequence was hardly immediate: Thirteen years later, O’Reilly was fired.

I exhume O’Reilly and, if I may, Fox News in general, as a rebuttal to the argument that something awfully pernicious and immoral about liberalism accounts for the Harvey Weinstein scandal.

We are told over and over about how his alleged behavior was an open secret in show business but that the liberal press, in odious partnership with liberal politicians, looked the other way. Some of that is true — the bit about Weinstein’s behavior being an open secret. The man was known as a brute, possessed of a hair-trigger temper, shielded from the consequences of his behavior not by the press, but by a phalanx of lawyers and the purchased silence of his victims.

Without an accuser — or witnesses — willing to talk on the record, the hands of journalists were tied. Ken Auletta, who profiled Weinstein in 2002 for The New Yorker, was consistently thwarted by an inability to get Weinstein’s alleged victims to say what had happened.

But if Weinstein’s behavior was an open secret, then what about O’Reilly’s? He settled with Mackris for $9 million. Other women also agreed to settlements. In the end, he and 21st Century Fox paid out $32 million to settle sexual harassment suits.

The predations of Roger Ailes, the late chairman of Fox News, cost the network even more — not to mention costing Ailes his job. The list of his victims was long and distinguished — Gretchen Carlson and Megyn Kelly, to name just two — and here, too, was yet another open secret. Ailes’ behavior was not only long-standing — TV producer Shelley Ross wrote that Ailes had made unwanted sexual advances to her back in 1981 — but it had been reported in a 2014 book by Gabriel Sherman, then of New York Magazine.

The consequence? Ailes got raise after raise and, ultimately, a golden parachute worth about $40 million. Rupert Murdoch, the proprietor of Fox News and much else, never had to account for the frat house he was running on Manhattan’s Sixth Avenue, and Ailes reportedly prepped Donald Trump for last year’s presidential debates. Trump did not object to associating with such a man. As we all know, besides wanting lower taxes, the two apparently had another thing in common.

The Democrats clearly do not have Trump’s sang-froid. They rushed to either return Weinstein’s money — he has been a steady Democratic Party contributor — or donate the filthy lucre to charity. But why? Weinstein’s money was legitimately earned and, while it is not unconnected to the man himself, it is unconnected to what his accusers say he did — and it was accepted in good faith. The rush by Democrats to rid themselves of this supposedly tainted money is in itself an ex post facto confession of guilt by association and plays into the argument of conservatives that something is rotten about liberalism.

After Representative Tim Murphy (R-Pa.), a vehement anti-abortion member of Congress, was revealed to have demanded that his mistress terminate a pregnancy, op-eds popped up informing us that Murphy was a typical conservative hypocrite. Some other conservatives were named, but of course we would not know the names of those who were ideologically consistent — maybe the vast majority.

Still, the urge to slander an entire class of people by using a single person is apparently so powerful it cannot be resisted. In Weinstein’s case, he has been used not only to accuse the press of inexcusable sloth but also to represent men in general, or maybe the man who lurks inside every man of power.

Harvey Weinstein does not personify American liberalism any more than Bill O’Reilly personifies American conservatism. If anything, they personify the truism that sexual misbehavior is nonideological — as Republican as Warren Harding, who carried on an affair with Nan Britton in the White House, or as Democratic as Bill Clinton, who did the same with Monica Lewinsky. Weinstein is not a typical liberal nor a typical man. He’s a typical beast. Leave it at that.

Richard Cohen writes for the Washington Post Writers Group.

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Film Features Film/TV

The Conversion

In January 1989, Steven Soderbergh’s sex, lies, and videotape won the Audience Award for best feature at the Sundance Film Festival, kicking off the modern Indie film movement.

To audiences, “Indie” usually means quirky, low-budget, character-driven fare that is more like the auteurist films of the 1970s than contemporary Hollywood’s designed-by-committee product. But “Indie” originally referred to films financed outside the major studios by outfits like New Line Cinema, which produced Sam Raimi’s The Evil Dead (1981) and the Coen Brothers’ Blood Simple (1984). By 1990, The Coen Brothers had crossed over into the mainstream with Miller’s Crossing, a film that brought together the meticulous plotting, brainy dialog, and stunning visual compositions that would garner them acclaim for the next 25 years.

As the 1990s dawned, a whole crop of directors stood up with a mission to make good movies on their own terms — and that meant raising money by any means necessary. Robert Rodriguez financed his $7,000 debut feature El Mariachi by selling his body for medical testing. It went on to win the 1993 Audience Award at Sundance, and his book Rebel Without A Crew inspired a generation of filmmakers.

Richard Linklater’s 1991 Slacker threw out the screenwriting rulebook that had dominated American film since George Lucas name-checked Joseph Campbell, focusing instead on dozens of strange characters floating around Austin. The structure has echoed through Indie film ever since, not only in Linklater’s Dazed And Confused (1993) but also the “hyperlink” movies of the early 2000s such as Soderbergh’s Traffic and even more conventionally scripted films such as Kevin Smith’s 1994 debut, Clerks.

Quentin Tarantino is arguably the most influential director of the last 25 years. His breakthrough hit, 1994’s Pulp Fiction, was the first film completely financed by producer Harvey Weinstein’s Miramax. But even then, the definitions of what was an “Indie” movie were fluid, as the formerly independent Miramax had become a subsidiary of Disney.

Indie fervor was spreading as local film scenes sprang up around the country. In Memphis, Mike McCarthy’s pioneering run of drive-in exploitation-inspired weirdness started in 1994 with Damselvis, Daughter of Helvis, followed the next year by the semi-autobiographical Teenage Tupelo. With 1997’s The Sore Losers, McCarthy integrated Memphis’ burgeoning underground music scene with his even-more-underground film aesthetic.

In 1995, the European Dogme 95 Collective, led by Lars von Trier, issued its “Vows of Chastity” and defined a new naturalist cinema: no props, no post-production sound, and no lighting. Scripts were minimal, demanding improvisation by the actors. Dogme #1 was Thomas Vinterberg’s The Celebration, which won the Jury Prize at Cannes in 1998.

Meanwhile, in America, weirdness was reaching its peak with Soderbergh’s surrealist romp Schizopolis. Today, the film enjoys a cult audience, but in 1997, it almost ended Soderbergh’s career and led to a turning point in Indie film. The same year, Tarantino directed Jackie Brown and then withdrew from filmmaking for six years. Soderbergh’s next feature veered away from experiment: 1998’s Out Of Sight was, like Jackie Brown, a tightly plotted adaptation of an Elmore Leonard crime novel. Before Tarantino returned to the director’s chair, Soderbergh would hit with Julia Roberts in Erin Brockovich and make George Clooney and Brad Pitt the biggest stars in the world with a very un-Indie remake of the Rat Pack vehicle Ocean’s 11.

Technology rescued Indie film. In the late ’90s, personal computers were on their way to being ubiquitous, and digital video cameras had improved in picture quality as they simplified operation. The 1999 experimental horror The Blair Witch Project, directed by Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sanchez, showed what was possible with digital, simultaneously inventing the found footage genre and becoming the most profitable Indie movie in history, grossing $248 million worldwide on a shooting budget of $25,000.

The festival circuit continued to grow. The Indie Memphis Film Festival was founded in 1998, showcasing works such as the gonzo comedies of Memphis cable access TV legend John Pickle. In 2000, it found its biggest hit: Craig Brewer’s The Poor & Hungry, a gritty, digital story of the Memphis streets, won awards both here and at the Hollywood Film Festival.

In 2005, Memphis directors dominated the Sundance Film Festival, with Ira Sach’s impressionistic character piece Forty Shades Of Blue winning the Grand Jury Prize, and Brewer’s Hustle & Flow winning the Audience Award, which would ultimately lead to the unforgettable spectacle of Three Six Mafia beating out Dolly Parton for the Best Original Song Oscar.

Brewer rode the crest of a digital wave that breathed new life into Indie film. In Memphis, Morgan Jon Fox and Brandon Hutchinson co-founded the MeDiA Co-Op, gathering dozens of actors and would-be filmmakers together under the newly democratized Indie film banner. Originally a devotee of Dogme 95, Fox quickly grew beyond its limitations, and by the time of 2008’s OMG/HaHaHa, his stories of down-and-out kids in Memphis owed more to Italian neorealism like Rome, Open City than to von Trier.

Elsewhere, the digital revolution was producing American auteurs like Andrew Bujalski, whose 2002 Funny Ha Ha would be retroactively dubbed the first “mumblecore” movie. The awkward label was coined to describe the wave of realist, DIY digital films such as Joe Swanberg’s Kissing on the Mouth that hit SXSW in 2005. Memphis MeDiA Co-Op alum Kentucker Audley produced three features, beginning with 2007’s mumblecore Team Picture.

Not everyone was on board the digital train. Two of the best Indie films of the 21st century were shot on film: Shane Carruth’s $7,000 Sundance winner Primer (2004) and Rian Johnson’s high school noir Brick (2005). But as digital video evolved into HD, Indie films shot on actual film have become increasingly rare.

DVDs — the way most Indies made money — started to give way to digital distribution via the Internet. Web series, such as Memphis indie collective Corduroy Wednesday’s sci fi comedy The Conversion, began to spring up on YouTube.

With actress and director Greta Gerwig’s star-making turn in 2013’s Francis Ha, it seemed that the only aspect of the American DIY movement that would survive the transition from mumblecore to mainstream was a naturalistic acting style. Founding father Soderbergh announced his retirement in 2013 with a blistering condemnation of the Hollywood machine. Lena Dunham’s 2010 festival hit Tiny Furniture caught the eye of producer Judd Apatow, and the pair hatched HBO’s Girls, which wears its indie roots on its sleeve and has become a national phenomenon.

The Indie spirit is alive and well, even if it may bypass theaters in the future.