Between the two of us, my sister and I probably own the complete works of Michael Jackson. Whether on vinyl, or cassette tape, or CD, or MP3 or video, I believe that we could reassemble his entire career: Every note, every lyric, every dance step. We were the ultimate fans.
In time, of course, he died a horrible death. Under a cloud of suspicion for the vilest of crimes against children. OUTRAGE! But wait: What did we ever know about his personal character, such that this should come as such a surprise? Years earlier, he slipped behind a curtain as a recluse, leading a decadent lifestyle of ultimate self-indulgence.
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When Arnold Schwarzenegger ran for governor of California in 2003, several women came forward to accuse him of sexual harassment on movie sets. OUTRAGE! But wait: Why was he famous in the first place? He was a sex symbol, a smiling hunk of sweat and muscles, known for his charm and rugged good looks. Not for his virtue.
In 1999, writer Amaani Lyle won her dream job with hit NBC comedy Friends. But in the writers’ room, they only talked about sex. Constantly and explicitly. Within a few months, she was fired. OUTRAGE! But wait: Having viewed every episode of the show, what did she really expect? Her lawsuit made its way to the California Supreme Court, where the producers prevailed. As one judge observed, “the Friends production was a creative workplace focused on generating scripts for an adult-oriented comedy show featuring sexual themes." Indeed.
Pick your felon: Harvey Weinstein, Al Franken, Kevin Spacey, Jeffrey Tambor, Louis C.K., on and on. The list seems to grow with each passing week.
I admired Michael for his music.
Ah-nold for his tough-guy movies.
The Friends cast for their humor.
And so on.
But I know well the cesspool from whence they came, and they were never the role models that I would choose for my children. With each successive revelation I think, what's your point? I never imagined that they were paragons of virtue in the first place.
Did you? Really?
As a child growing up in Hollywood, I knew that I lived in Sin City. It’s where Eddie Fisher left his wife Debbie Reynolds, to marry Elizabeth Taylor. Who, in turn, married six others. Clean-cut types like the Osmonds were ridiculed for their lack of cool-ness, while the marketplace rewards rappers for glorifying the abuse of women. I'm tired of the manufactured outrage.
So where am I going with this? (No, it’s not to excuse the sins of men who can’t control themselves.) Simply, this is exactly the kind of behavior that we’ve all come to expect from men in this industry, and we admired them for it. So why should we feign surprise and indignation now? Should I now boycott their movies, music, and TV shows? For this observer, it all seems so disingenuous.
Tom Cruise had me at hello, with Risky Business. But I don’t pretend that he’s my friend, and I have no plans to bring him in to teach Sunday school at my church. He entertains me in a dark theater, and I expect nothing more.
Somehow Donny now looks pretty cool about now, eh?.
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