When actors try to be “political” they reveal their vanity and sense of self-importance, writes Mary Corrigall.
When Jared Leto declared “Je suis Charlie” at the recent Golden Globes I cringed. Yes, many of us embraced this gesture too, but it was something else hearing it said in the context of a Hollywood event.
It also didn’t help that his French is about as good as my Mandarin. I wonder if he, like so many people on social media, wishes he could back-track and claim “not to be Charlie” as popular opinion regarding the journalists at Charlie Hebdo shifted.
George Clooney also took a ride on this fashionable political train when he also slipped in a “Je Suis Charlie” during his acceptance speech. Most irritating about these gestures is the way in which, when they do it, it’s as if they are taking the high road. When actors try to be “political” on this platform or any other for that matter, they reveal their vanity and sense of self-importance. They always assume their actions have a greater weight than ours because they stand in the limelight and as such are using their fame “to do good”.
It’s an insidious form of humblebragging, which unfortunately actors are prized for doing. Just think of the montage of Clooney helping Africans and drawing attention to the plight of the Sudanese which was shown before he accepted the Cecil B DeMille award.
Exactly what his “humanitarian” efforts have to do with his acting career I have no idea. Essentially this kind of act is exploitative in the sense that poor, supposedly, helpless Africans are used in a twisted scheme to show how generous Hollywood actors are and superior Americans are, despite the huge social problems in their own backyards.
These annual high-profile acting award ceremonies are breeding grounds for humblebragging. It has become a tradition for the recipients of awards to first acknowledge the greatness of all the other nominees. In this way they appear humble, though what they are really saying is “wow, can’t believe I beat Meryl Streep!”
This sense of self-righteousness and hypocrisy not only underpins acceptance speeches but seems to extend to how they view the role of film-making as a tool to foster a “better society”.
This was evidenced in much of the rhetoric driving many of the speeches and introductions to the films nominated in the best motion picture category. Attention was often drawn to how these products engendered greater understanding, carving out space for the marginalised within the social body, like rape victims or the transgendered community.
This paints a picture of the American world of film and TV as one focused on embracing difference, shattering stereotypes and probing into the human condition in such a way that going to the movies could be an enlightening experience.
Such an attitude presumes that we, the viewers, need enlightenment and guidance from these upstanding cultural producers, who seemingly do all of this work for the good of humanity – never mind the outrageous sums they command to get out of bed.
Thing is, the awards tell a different story. The recipients are beautiful people, not social outcasts. They are mostly white, middle-class Americans who are rewarded for pretending to be marginalised people struggling to find a place in our world. Not that they all have had an easy ride in this industry. As Julienne Moore observed when she picked up her award for her role in Still Alice, it was a battle to get finance and backing for a movie about a middle-aged woman. This may be the case because the majority of films that were acknowledged at this ceremony centred on male protagonists, from Boyhood, The Grand Budapest Hotel, Birdman, The Imitation Game and The Theory of Everything. More often than not you can go to the cinema and sit through an entire film without hardly seeing a woman. They have supporting roles. They are the love/lust interest, the mean, spiteful boss/co-worker or the victim that needs to be rescued.
It’s just as well these awards have categories divided along gender lines, or else the women would probably not get much of a look-in. It is no wonder this year’s Golden Globes was characterised by bitter remarks by women about their gender – that and the fact the Sony hacking scandal brought to light their male contemporaries are paid more.
Three different generations of actresses seemed to have an axe to grind; from Amy Adams, who suggested women didn’t have to be strong to be admired to Moore, who is no doubt dealing with a diminishing set of opportunities because of her age, to Lily Tomlin and Jane Fonda who wryly congratulated men for having “come so far”.
These remarks carried more weight than Leto or Clooney’s statements, though the fact that men could be so violently silenced no doubt sent shivers down their backs. Ultimately, if all these Hollywood types really want to advance equality they ought to restructure their own industry first rather than pay lip-service in their acceptance speeches.
Sunday Independent