SARAH VINE
You need a certain amount of chutzpah to turn up at a protest against the sexual objectification of women in a gown slashed to the waist. But Kate Beckinsale seemed unperturbed by her rather risque choice at Sunday night’s starstudded Golden Globes ceremony.
As did Catherine Zeta- Jones, whose tulle fishtail number was struggling to contain her own very ample globes, and Nicole Kidman, who looked as though the top of her dress had been ravaged by moths.
They — like countless other famous faces — were taking part in Hollywood’s latest attempt to atone for the sins of disgraced movie mogul Harvey Weinstein: hashtag MeToo’s even more humourless cousin, the Time’s up campaign.
Endorsed by Hollywood’s top female talent and launched last week with a fullpage advert in the New York Times, the Time’s up campaign is supported by a catalogue of A-listers including Emma Watson, Reese Witherspoon, Meryl Streep and Natalie Portman to draw attention to and stamp out sexual harassment.
Their first course of action? To urge fellow A-listers to wear black to this year’s awards as a gesture of ‘solidarity’ towards victims.
Eat your heart out, Rosa Parks. or maybe not. Still, what they lacked in credibility they certainly made up for in enthusiasm. one by one, they pouted and preened their way down the red carpet in a selection of tenebrous numbers, not a single person daring to defy the self-appointed moral arbiters of post-Harvey Hollywood.
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mind the fact that this time last year they were all more than happy to mingle with Weinstein, to be seen at his parties and drink his champagne. This was Hollywood in sackcloth and ashes mode — and, my, what a stomachchurning spectacle it proved.
From the token addition of eight ‘ normal people’ to the guest list (activists for gender and racial justice who found themselves mobbed by A- listers desperate to be photographed with them) to the sycophantic reception to oprah Winfrey’s acceptance speech ( which she rather unashamedly turned into the unofficial launch of her bid to become the next Democratic Presidential candidate), it was a night of empty gestures and even emptier intentions. Don’t get me wrong: I’m all in favour of helping victims of abuse rebuild their lives; and I admire the desire of these women to put their fame — and fortune (they have raised $13 million) to good use.
But I can’t help feeling that a big part of this is also about Hollywood helping itself. About assuaging its own feelings of guilt at having enabled, through inaction, Weinstein’s abominable behaviour. About ambitious individuals having put their own interests before those of others less powerful or influential.
For, let’s face it, many of those in the limelight on Sunday night willingly danced attendance at the court of King Harvey, even when they knew full well the kind of tricks he was getting up to.
Now that he is exposed, they are naturally anxious to distance themselves from the man himself, but also expunge their own part in the drama. After all, how many of these women whose brows are now so furrowed (Botox permitting), whose expressions of concern now echo around the world, were — and remain — part of a machine that has always run roughshod over the dreams of the little people?
How many turned a blind eye