Reconsidering Woody Allen

by Eric Peterson

Harvey Weinstein, Kevin Spacey, Louis C.K., Jeffrey Tambor, Brett Ratner. It seems that every day we hear about another powerful (and let's just say it -- male) figure in the entertainment industry who has been accused of sexual "misconduct" at best, and abuse/rape at worst.

While it's difficult to hear these stories -- sometimes because the stories themselves are horrendous and awful, sometimes because the men who were accused really disappointed us -- it's good that we're having this conversation, especially if it leads to real change within this industry that touches us all, whether or not it's where we spend our careers. But even if it takes us a while to make the kinds of changes that will make the worlds of film and TV a safe space for women to work and create, it's a positive development that both women and men who have been harassed or assaulted are generally being believed, and that everyone is waking up to how endemic sexual abuse really is.

With that kind of introduction, the fact that I'm about to launch into a defense of Woody Allen, of all people, might seem odd. But that's what I'm doing.

First of all, let me admit my bias. I think Woody Allen is one of the cinematic geniuses of our time. To put it simply, I'm a fan. Hannah & Her Sisters, released before the scandals I'm about to discuss, and Bullets Over Broadway, released afterwards, rate among my favorite movies made by anyone, ever. But add to that list Crimes & Misdemeanors, Interiors, Manhattan, Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Sex (but were afraid to ask), Annie Hall, A Midsummer Night's Sex Comedy, Midnight in Paris, Match Point, September, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Mighty Aphrodite, Radio Days, Alice, Another Woman, Broadway Danny Rose, Blue Jasmine, The Purple Rose of Cairo, and more -- some of these films feel perfect in their construction and artistry, and even those with obvious flaws are still interesting, so much more interesting than what you're probably thinking about renting next. He's our generation's Chekhov -- an artist in the truest sense of the word.

None of which excuses bad behavior, of course. And while I'm busy defending the man and his legacy, let me just state for the record that Woody Allen has behaved, in my opinion, very badly.

So what exactly are we doing here? Okay, let's talk about his offscreen life for a moment, and then I'll get back to the movies.

The most serious charge against Woody Allen came from his own daughter, who was, at the time, named Dylan Farrow. She claimed that, during his separation from her mother, Mia Farrow, he molested her in an attic. Her story was, and is, harrowing. And, there's a lot of doubt surrounding the allegation. A much more detailed account of these doubts was written by Robert Weide (who produced and directed a two-part documentary about Allen's career for PBS) in The Daily Beast in 2014. You can read that essay here, but the most convincing point made, to my mind, was that the allegation was made very soon after the alleged molestation occurred, which allowed investigators to launch a thorough and timely inquiry. And they did so. And after six months of considering the evidence, including physical examinations, they concluded that Dylan had not been molested, by her father or anyone else.

What we do know for sure about Woody Allen is that he began a sexual relationship with Soon-Yi Previn, his girlfriend's adopted daughter when she was either 18 or 20 and he was 55. That is awful. No, really -- it's terrible. Moreover, it's creepy as fuck. In addition, it's a terrible thing to do to a woman you've been in a relationship with (and had children with) for twelve years. Also, it was a terrible thing for Soon-Yi to do to her mother. I totally get that. And if that makes you not want to ever watch a Woody Allen movie ever again, I will support you in that decision. But -- and this is the point -- the sordid tale of Woody and Soon-Yi is not a story about rape, or abuse, or assault, or even harassment.

At the time that they began their affair, Previn was very young, especially compared to Allen, but was, in point of fact, a few years above the age of consent -- so we can't accurately call this statutory rape. If she were to come forward today to tell the world that she had been emotionally manipulated or physically assaulted by Allen as a teenager, I'd certainly be willing to give her a hearing. But given the fact that she remains married to Allen a quarter of a century later, that's not likely.

As much as I support the #metoo movement, and I truly do -- part of supporting those who have experienced rape or abuse or assault or harassment is to 1) start by believing the alleged victim(s), 2) investigate the claims as thoroughly as possible, and 3) separate criminal behavior from that which is simply untoward or uncouth.

If you apply that measure to Woody Allen, he doesn't exactly emerge looking like a saint. But he's not a rapist. He's not an abuser. And if you still want to call for Harvey Weinstein's head one day and take in a Woody Allen movie the next, I won't call you a hypocrite.

Speaking of Woody Allen movies, did I mention how amazing they are? In them, Woody Allen -- the writer, the director, and to a lesser extent, the actor -- has an uncanny ability to see life through the eyes of so many different people, especially women. So if he can be a selfish cad, and clearly he can -- he also has the capacity for reservoirs of empathy. Like Walt Whitman, he contradicts himself, and while that's confusing and complex, it's also the most human analysis that can be offered about any of us. Witness the following scene, from Hannah & Her Sisters:

In the scene above, Hannah (Mia Farrow) meets her sisters (Dianne Weist, Barbara Hershey) for lunch. Holly (Weist, who won an Oscar for her performance) is at a professional crossroads, and has come to ask her sister for money. While she and Hannah negotiate this request, Lee (Hershey) is overcome with emotion. What the audience knows but neither Hannah nor Holly know, is that Lee is currently having an affair with Hannah's husband (Michael Caine as -- you guessed it, a selfish cad). In this scene, there are usually three or four things going on at once, dancing between what's known and what's unknown, what's practical and what exists in the darker corners of the heart. It's less than three minutes long, and it's masterful in its execution.

And there's another scene from my other favorite Allen film, Bullets Over Broadway, which came out in 1994 -- three years after Woody Allen's contentious break-up with Mia Farrow and the tabloid furor around his relationship with her daughter, that speaks directly to the question of whether or not artists should be excused for their bad behavior. I couldn't find this particular scene anywhere on the internet (do better, internet!), but the basic setup is this: David Shayne (John Cusack), an aspiring playwright, is in a conversation with Sheldon Flender (Rob Reiner), a selfish cad. Sheldon is explaining to David that artists exist on a separate moral plane than the rest of us ordinary mortals. This is probably exactly what David wants to hear, since he's cheating on his girlfriend Ellen (Mary-Louise Parker) with the leading lady of his new play (another performance by Dianne Wiest, another Best Supporting Actress Oscar), and also wrestling with the knowledge that Cheech (Chazz Palminteri), a bodyguard and the real creative genius behind David's new play, has killed Olive, the talent-deficient actress (Jennifer Tilly, who is hilarious in this movie) in an effort to save the play from being an artistic flop. However -- and this is key -- the audience hates Sheldon Flender, and we don't even know yet that he's sleeping with Ellen himself. When we hear Sheldon's philosophy from his own preening, obnoxious mouth, we reject it immediately, even after we laughed our heads off when Cheech killed Olive (no really, it's hilarious). Allen, the filmmaker, expertly makes us complicit, and then shows us the lie -- all while cramming more laughs into a single movie than he probably ever did before or since. Just to prove it, here's more genius from Dianne Wiest:

Woody Allen has a new movie coming out this winter. It's called Wonder Wheel, and it stars Kate Winslet, Justin Timberlake, Juno Temple, and Jim Belushi. I'm going to see it. I typically see whatever Winslet does, and I'm not likely to pass up a chance to see her act a script that Woody Allen has written. I might even see it in a theatre, or I might wait until I can see it at home. But I'm almost definitely going to see it.

My final diagnosis is this: Woody Allen might be a decent guy who made a big mistake. He might be a completely decent guy who found the love of his life in the oddest of places. He might be the world's most rancid asshole and deserving of nothing good in this life whatsoever. I've never met Woody Allen, and I'm not likely to. I'm not even sure I'd want to. But watching Woody Allen's movies makes me a better person. They force me to ponder life's essential questions, and they often make me laugh so hard I don't even realize I'm doing it.

Y'know, if Harvey Weinstein or Kevin Spacey never work again, I won't be upset. They have each exhibited a pattern of abusive behavior, and the stories of their victims stand up to scrutiny. It's important that they be held accountable for a history of assault, even if I, the moviegoer, miss out. There's zero chance that I'll ever see Daddy's Home 2, because I can't stand to look at Mel Gibson's face -- he's a racist, he's guilty of domestic assault, and I wouldn't enjoy watching that movie, or any movie he appears in for the rest of his career. And yet, I don't feel like I'm "boycotting" Mel Gibson. For starters, I wasn't all that likely to see Daddy's Home 2 to begin with; more importantly, I'm not trying to stop anyone else from seeing that movie. I'm personally not going, because I personally wouldn't be able to enjoy it; it's that simple.

If the public at large decided to hold Woody Allen accountable for being a selfish cad, and he stopped working after a long and prolific career, I suppose I'd survive that as well. But if Woody is still making movies (and he is), and if I, as a human being in this world, can benefit from seeing those movies (and I believe I would), then I'm going to see them. And I'm more than okay with that.

Art isn't easy

by Eric Peterson

In this week's show, we talked about ladies who make us laugh. Stacey and I made passing mention of the controversy surrounding that photograph of Kathy Griffin and what looked like Donald Trump's decapitated head. So, for this week's blog installment, here's something I wrote about that incident in the days after it occurred. (NOTE: This post originally appeared at Medium on June 1, 2017.)

* * * * *

In the last few days, comedienne and gay icon Kathy Griffin has found herself in a spot of controversy. Together with photographer Tyler Shields, Griffin created an image that depicted her holding the decapitated head of a man, covered in blood, and with a hairstyle unmistakably reminiscent of President Donald Trump.

The backlash was almost immediate. Angry tweets were tweeted by the likes of Chelsea Clinton, Griffin’s personal friend Anderson Cooper, and Trump himself, who noted that the image was very upsetting to his 11-year old son in particular. The consensus reached by both sides of the political spectrum was a sandstorm of outrage, offense, and condemnation. Liberals insisted that such violent imagery has no place in civilized debate, while conservatives predictably used the incident to indict the “hatred” they see as synonymous with liberalism, and wondered how liberals would have felt if someone depicted a violent death of Barack Obama.

Actually, we don’t need to wonder about that since violent images, often reminiscent of Jim Crow-era lynchings, depicting a violent death for Obama were all-too-common throughout his Presidency. And yet, liberals argued, two wrongs don’t make a right. Just because they did it, doesn’t mean we should follow suit. When they go low, we go high. In less than 24 hours, Griffin apologized. In a video, posted to Twitter, she said, “I’m a comic. I crossed the line … I beg for your forgiveness. I went too far. I made a mistake, and I was wrong.”

I couldn’t help but notice that in a political landscape so polarized that both sides have all but given up hope that we would ever agree on anything ever again, Kathy Griffin brought the entire country together in a matter of hours, with a single image, without ever saying a word. But it was difficult for me to celebrate this feat of momentary peacemaking, because I wasn’t so sure that I agreed with the masses on this one.

I will admit, firstly, that I’m a fan of Kathy Griffin; more often than not, she makes me laugh. I will also admit that I’m no fan of Donald Trump. As such, I should have been the perfect audience for this particular artistic creation — but something about it didn’t work for me. It didn’t make me laugh, or even smile. It didn’t inspire me to #RESIST, politically or in any other sense — it certainly didn’t fan any latent urges toward violence. Mostly, it just numbed me. I sat in front of my computer screen, taking it all in, mouth agape and eyes growing ever wider. “Wow,” I thought. Not much more than that, just … “wow.” (And not really a good wow, but more of a “WTF” wow.)

I noticed the look on Kathy’s face — not defiant, certainly not jubilant — but slightly panicked and somehow both manic and depressive at the same time. I noticed her oddly formal, bordering-on-frumpy blouse, which I was later reminded has a particularly named feature: the pussy-bow. I noticed the sheer amount of fake blood used to decorate the prosthetic head. And I reflected on the fact that I really, really dislike Donald Trump, and yet — I had to ask myself if I was okay with this. And the answer came slowly. And it was … no. No, I don’t think so. No, I don’t like this.

And yet, I’m not eager to condemn Kathy Griffin and Tyler Shields for creating this particular work of art, even though it makes me uncomfortable. I believe that many works of art, certainly this photo, are meant to make its viewer uncomfortable. And I can’t deny that this image taught me something about myself. It tested my limits; as a result, I learned that there’s a line I don’t want to cross. And I’m not upset at Kathy Griffin for crossing that line for me; in many ways, that’s an artist’s job.

Art is not a luxury. Art isn’t something to enjoy once life’s necessities have been taken care of. Art, even really bad art, has a purpose. Art, at the very least, has something to say. At its best, art is a vessel wherein the viewer learns something, not about the artwork, but about him or herself. And by that barometer, this shocking photograph is surely art. It might not have been a smart decision for Kathy Griffin to create this particular work of art; in fact, it’s already come at a financial cost. It might not have been politically savvy; many are suggesting that the photo gives Trump supporters license to dismiss any of his critics as violent hatemongers. It might not be in good taste; more to the point, it was likely never meant to be.

But it is art, nonetheless. And I am, ever so slightly, different than I was because of it.

My Heart Can't Handle a Third

by Stacey Fearheiley

Frank asked me the other day who would be the third?  Third?  Third what?
"Jerry Lewis, Dick Gregory....and who?"  Ahhhh, I thought.  The rule of 3s, that when there is a celebrity death, there will not just be 1 or 2...but 3.  And so we waited.

And while we waited, we thought about the two that just left us.  Two very different comedians and yet both history making and cliche' smashing talents.

Dick Gregory made you think....whether you wanted to or not.  He was that smart, that good, that talented and that funny.  So sharp, his wit left scars.  He fought on the front lines of the civil rights movement with a keen eye for observation and the ability to communicate in a distinct and new way.

Jerry Lewis became an industry and icon, charming not just the post WWII society trying to normalize their lives...but actually the whole country of France.  His slapstick and mime abilities have rarely been rivaled in the past 70 years. His years of charity work with the Muscular Dystrophy Association raised awareness and billions of dollars for disease research.

Two legends who helped define the second half of the last century in comedy, gone.  Social media and news shows all created their own tributes--some better than others.
Comedians, actors, politicians and other celebrities weighed in on the influence both had on careers and the industry itself.

This is not to be just another tribute piece. This is a bit of what we'll miss...a bit of history...of what influenced the present to be the way it is.  Maybe the fact that we have SO MUCH "entertainment" to choose from, has kept us from looking back at some pieces that changed how comedy is done, reacted to, and remembered -- until the artists are gone.

Pop culture is an evolving thing...it is changed daily by what is happening now...and builds on what has occurred in the past.  Here is a bit of the past that got us to where we are today.

Dick Gregory.  Jerry Lewis.  Thank you.  True legends don't leave us with just "bits of funny", they leave legacies.

Funny Girls

In our second episode, we decided to talk about one of our favorite forms: comedy. What makes people laugh and why is something of a mystery, but what's clear is that it's not an easy thing to do, by any stretch - and it's our belief that gifted comics deserve a lot more respect than they typically get, especially next to the "tragedians."

One of those serious, serious actors is Meryl Streep - dripping with Academy Award nominations, and winner of three Oscars. Nonetheless, when Stacey asked Eric who makes him laugh, Meryl was the first name he came up with. Meryl does a lot of comedy, up to and including her last nominated turn in Florence Foster Jenkins. But it was her performance in 1990's Postcards from the Edge (written by the ever-hilarious Carrie Fisher) that Eric called to mind first. Admittedly, this isn't the funniest scene in the film, but even when bringing up weighty issues like alcoholism and drug addiction, Carrie throws in a line about Lana Turner and Joan Crawford and you can't help but chuckle. And those are the moments you tend to remember.

When Eric asked Stacey the same question, her ready answer was Carol Burnett. The Carol Burnett Show debuted in 1967 and ran for more than a decade. The humor was often very broad -- most of us remember her riff on Scarlett O'Hara wearing a dress made out of curtains ... with the curtain rod still intact. But sometimes the humor was more subdued, almost absurdist in nature, such as this sketch, featuring the entire ensemble of the show, called "The Butler & the Maid." Hilarious, and also not without something important to say about class, entitlement, domestic violence, and funny stuff like that.

Later in the show, Eric named another one of his favorite funny people: Margaret Cho. Her best work, according to Eric, was the very first of her major stand-up tours, called I'm the One That I Want -- she covers a lot of ground in this show, including the role of women in the lives of gay men, her own bisexuality, addiction, and being a different kind of role model for Asian-Americans. But mostly, this show is about her experiences on the set of All-American Girl, the short-lived sitcom she starred in, how she was directed by the show runners to lose weight to play the part of herself, and how she made herself sick trying. None of that should be funny, and yet it is (also NSFW, just sayin').

Honestly, neither Stacey or Eric set out to exclude men from this list; in fact, they talk about any number of men that they find to be really funny during the show (hint: if you're near New York City, go see Kevin Kline in Present Laughter on Broadway this very minute).

And yet, it's interesting that the first names they thought of were women. It's possible that marginalized people tend to be better observers of themselves and everyone else than those who are in charge. Perhaps we expect women to be "nicer" than men, so when they veer into what's shocking, it's even more shocking ... and maybe a bit funnier.

Who are the women who make you laugh? Let us know in the comments here, talk to us on Facebook, send us a tweet, whatever. We'd love to hear from you. And, y'know ... subscribe (we have to say it; it's a rule).