Sunday Independent (Ireland)

Thank goodness we’ve got movie stars to set us right

There’s nothing that these Hollywood prima donnas can’t do — except maybe make a decent film,

- writes Barbara McCarthy

IF I were an alien and arrived on earth on the night of the Golden Globe awards and turned on the telly, I’d go: “Oh my God what happened? Why are all the women wearing black? Was there a massacre at a feminist armpit hair party?”

Were humourless feminists gunned down in their prime, despite their tireless yet arbitrary work with the Black Lives Matter and the transgende­r movements?

No, female leading ladies were standing up to Harvey Weinstein for being a pig. In the absence of making decent movies, Hollywood has decided to crawl deep into the crevices of its own ass, possibly never to return.

I dunno about Reese Witherspoo­n, Meryl Streep, Oprah or even Hillary Clinton, but I found out that Weinstein was a pig in 2007. I remember not being surprised.

I live in Dublin, 8,300km from Los Angeles and I had this nugget of informatio­n casually thrown my way. Yet none of these LBD-wearing ladies had any idea? ‘‘I want to thank Harvey Weinstein” Hollywood stars cried with fake tears before a global audience at every awards ceremony, every year for decades. I’m just looking at a photo of Oprah kissing the side of his head, like good friends do.

Spare me what could easily look like hypocrisy. Where’s Catherine Deneuve? Can I sign her open letter warning of this scary new ‘puritanism’?

The French actress, who has proven time and again to have balls and charisma, denounced the #metoo movement, victim culture and ‘hatred of men’ along with a collective of 100 female French performers, writers and businesswo­men.

“Rape is a crime, but insistent or clumsy flirting is not an offence, nor is gallantry macho aggression,” the letter declared. The Harvey Weinstein episode was a “legitimate wake-up call to the sexual violence exercised against women”, it obviously stated. “Fever” of publicly denouncing abusers “really only serves the enemies of sexual freedom”, it continued.

Fortunatel­y we can always rely on our continenta­l sisters for some straight talk in these desperate times of herd thinking. They were righter than right when they insisted that the #metoo movement chains women to the status of the “eternal victim” by framing them as “poor little things who are dominated by demon phallocrat­s”.

I couldn’t have said it better myself. I fear where this culture of victimhood, reverse sexism and perma offended leftist tommyrot will bring us.

What’s the long-term trajectory for men? Will masculinit­y be dormant by 2040?

What I find most exhausting about this whole black dress nonsense is how women of Hollywood are doing all this for the greater good of all womankind. All this ‘we’re all in this together’ malarkey, whether you’re a single mom from Wichita, Kansas, who works in Hooters or you’re a Hollywood heavyweigh­t.

Has anyone ever met famous women from Hollywood? You can’t get near them. Their ‘yes’ people will drag you away if you did. You don’t succeed in Hollywood unless you’re willing to walk over hot coals, or your dead granny — so spare me the Michelle Obama-style ‘us women have to empower each other’ horse crap.

These women have drive, ambition, more than we do. They didn’t just casually end up in Beverly Hills.

Wearing a black dress to the Golden Globes was a self-serving exercise in attention seeking. A puritan publicity stunt. Hence I’m with Bianco Blanco. I know, I’ve never heard of her either but if anyone noticed her, she wore a red dress among this sea of black hypocrisy. It had a slit across the front of it, therefore nouveau feminists would hate her. She looked amazing and didn’t want to be bullied by the oppressive forces of Hollywood and subscribe to identity politics at their worst.

How dare these smug millionair­es think they can become mouthpiece­s for this epic struggle in human liberation, cherry picking from the great feminist buffet.

Oh I’ll have the safety in numbers stuff — I’ll wear a black dress at an awards ceremony, I’ll attend a women’s march with a vagina on my head, I’ll be anti-Trump and pro-equal pay. What about women and children first? If you were on the Titanic, I’m sure you’d let the burly dude beside you in a tuxedo go on the lifeboat. What about women getting to keep the kids in a divorce? What about caring about bigger issues? Not one word was spoken about the social ills plaguing American society, all I heard was pious ramblings.

Harvey Weinstein was a big story, but not that big — not months’ worth. Plus for the love of God, I’ve had guys come on to me, or get their lads out. What did I do — I reported it or smacked them across the head — or both. Immediatel­y. I didn’t wait until 10 years or 20 years after the fact and blame them for my life going pear-shaped.

What’s more important is that I can’t remember the last time I saw a decent film. I used to love Meryl Streep, I think she was amazing in The Deer Hunter. I love The Deer Hunter, and Reservoir Dogs and The Servant with Dirk Bogarde, all the Hollywood classics of old. What about Hollywood movie stars? They’re meant to be different to us. We look at photos of them when we’re in a newsagent on a rainy day while we’re waiting in the post office queue and want to have their life. I don’t want to hear them preach horses**t.

So my advice to Meryl and the gang is take your LBDs — a staple of women on the pull — put it away, shut up and start making good movies again.

‘I do not remember the last good movie I saw’

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