Posts Tagged ‘Woody Allen’

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Banned Woody Allen satire: Allen v. Nixon/Kissinger

 

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Dylan Farrow Responds to Woody Allen: ‘Distortions and Outright Lies’

Once again, Woody Allen is attacking me and my family in an effort to discredit and silence me – but nothing he says or writes can change the truth. For 20 years, I have never wavered in describing what he did to me. I will carry the memories of surviving these experiences for the rest of my life. 

EARLIER: Woody Allen Slams Mia Farrow’s ‘Shabby Agenda’: ‘To Hurt Me With A Smear … Smells A Lot More Like Mia Than Dylan’ 

His op-ed is the latest rehash of the same legalese, distortions, and outright lies he has leveled at me for the past 20 years. He insists my mother brought criminal charges – in fact, it was a pediatrician who reported the incident to the police based on my firsthand account. He suggests that no one complained of his misconduct prior to his assault on me – court documents show that he was in treatment for what his own therapist described as “inappropriate” behavior with me from as early as 1991. He offers a carefully worded claim that he passed a lie detector test – in fact, he refused to take the test administered by the state police (he hired someone to administer his own test, which authorities refused to accept as evidence). These and other misrepresentations have been rebutted in more detail by independent, highly respected journalists, including this most recent article here: 

http://www.vanityfair.com/online/daily/2014/02/woody-allen-sex-abuse-10-facts

With all the attempts to misrepresent the facts, it is important to be reminded of the truth contained in court documents from the only final ruling in this case, by the New York Supreme Court in 1992. In denying my father all access to me, that court:   

  • Debunked the “experts” my father claims exonerated him, calling them “colored by their loyalty to Mr. Allen”, criticizing the author of their report (who never met me) for destroying all supporting documentation, and calling their conclusions “sanitized and therefore less credible”. 
  • Included testimony from babysitters who witnessed inappropriate sexual behavior by my father toward me.
  • Found that “there is no credible evidence to support Mr. Allen’s contention that Ms. Farrow coached Dylan or that Ms. Farrow acted upon a desire for revenge against him for seducing Soon-Yi. Mr. Allen’s resort to the stereotypical ‘woman scorned’ defense is an injudicious attempt to divert attention from his failure to act as a responsible parent and adult.”
  • Concluded that the evidence “…proves that Mr. Allen’s behavior toward Dylan was grossly inappropriate and that measures must be taken to protect her.”
  • Finally, the Connecticut State prosecutor found “probable cause” to prosecute, but made the decision not to in an effort to protect “the child victim”, given my fragile state.

From the bottom of my heart, I will be forever grateful for the outpouring of support I have received from survivors and countless others. If speaking out about my experience can help others stand up to their tormentors, it will be worth the pain and suffering my father continues to inflict on me. Woody Allen has an arsenal of lawyers and publicists but the one thing he does not have on his side is the truth. I hope this is the end of his vicious attacks and of the media campaign by his lawyers and publicists, as he’s promised. I won’t let the truth be buried and I won’t be silenced

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Woody Allen Speaks Out

 

[I didn’t know about this, and I have praised Allen’s films in the past (not him personally).  It is only right to hear this side of the story.]

 

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Dylan Farrow

What’s your favorite Woody Allen movie? Before you answer, you should know: when I was seven years old, Woody Allen took me by the hand and led me into a dim, closet-like attic on the second floor of our house. He told me to lay on my stomach and play with my brother’s electric train set. Then he sexually assaulted me. He talked to me while he did it, whispering that I was a good girl, that this was our secret, promising that we’d go to Paris and I’d be a star in his movies. I remember staring at that toy train, focusing on it as it traveled in its circle around the attic. To this day, I find it difficult to look at toy trains.

For as long as I could remember, my father had been doing things to me that I didn’t like. I didn’t like how often he would take me away from my mom, siblings and friends to be alone with him. I didn’t like it when he would stick his thumb in my mouth. I didn’t like it when I had to get in bed with him under the sheets when he was in his underwear. I didn’t like it when he would place his head in my naked lap and breathe in and breathe out. I would hide under beds or lock myself in the bathroom to avoid these encounters, but he always found me. These things happened so often, so routinely, so skillfully hidden from a mother that would have protected me had she known, that I thought it was normal. I thought this was how fathers doted on their daughters. But what he did to me in the attic felt different. I couldn’t keep the secret anymore.

When I asked my mother if her dad did to her what Woody Allen did to me, I honestly did not know the answer. I also didn’t know the firestorm it would trigger. I didn’t know that my father would use his sexual relationship with my sister to cover up the abuse he inflicted on me. I didn’t know that he would accuse my mother of planting the abuse in my head and call her a liar for defending me. I didn’t know that I would be made to recount my story over and over again, to doctor after doctor, pushed to see if I’d admit I was lying as part of a legal battle I couldn’t possibly understand. At one point, my mother sat me down and told me that I wouldn’t be in trouble if I was lying – that I could take it all back. I couldn’t. It was all true. But sexual abuse claims against the powerful stall more easily. There were experts willing to attack my credibility. There were doctors willing to gaslight an abused child.

After a custody hearing denied my father visitation rights, my mother declined to pursue criminal charges, despite findings of probable cause by the State of Connecticut – due to, in the words of the prosecutor, the fragility of the “child victim.” Woody Allen was never convicted of any crime. That he got away with what he did to me haunted me as I grew up. I was stricken with guilt that I had allowed him to be near other little girls. I was terrified of being touched by men. I developed an eating disorder. I began cutting myself. That torment was made worse by Hollywood. All but a precious few (my heroes) turned a blind eye. Most found it easier to accept the ambiguity, to say, “who can say what happened,” to pretend that nothing was wrong. Actors praised him at awards shows. Networks put him on TV. Critics put him in magazines. Each time I saw my abuser’s face – on a poster, on a t-shirt, on television – I could only hide my panic until I found a place to be alone and fall apart.

Last week, Woody Allen was nominated for his latest Oscar. But this time, I refuse to fall apart. For so long, Woody Allen’s acceptance silenced me. It felt like a personal rebuke, like the awards and accolades were a way to tell me to shut up and go away. But the survivors of sexual abuse who have reached out to me – to support me and to share their fears of coming forward, of being called a liar, of being told their memories aren’t their memories – have given me a reason to not be silent, if only so others know that they don’t have to be silent either.

Today, I consider myself lucky. I am happily married. I have the support of my amazing brothers and sisters. I have a mother who found within herself a well of fortitude that saved us from the chaos a predator brought into our home.

But others are still scared, vulnerable, and struggling for the courage to tell the truth. The message that Hollywood sends matters for them.

What if it had been your child, Cate Blanchett? Louis CK? Alec Baldwin? What if it had been you, Emma Stone? Or you, Scarlett Johansson? You knew me when I was a little girl, Diane Keaton. Have you forgotten me?

Woody Allen is a living testament to the way our society fails the survivors of sexual assault and abuse.

So imagine your seven-year-old daughter being led into an attic by Woody Allen. Imagine she spends a lifetime stricken with nausea at the mention of his name. Imagine a world that celebrates her tormenter.

Are you imagining that? Now, what’s your favorite Woody Allen movie?

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Woody Allen does what he does, and I’m sort of cautious as to what to say about it.  I’ll need to watch the trailer and see what points are revealed before proceeding.

 

Okay, it’s all in there.  There’s a great riches to rags fall from ostentatious obscene wealth kind of through line that is pretty satisfying.  It’s easy to hate on Jasmine, the spoiled, stuck-up amoral trophy wife.  How many Jasmines don’t get the big wakeup call and continue on in their unearned lavish excess?  There’s something cathartic about this karmic kind of justice.

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And yet, she’s not the perpetrator.  She was along for the ride, herself duped by the life.  In terms of culpability Hitler’s girlfriend isn’t some pure nun, but she didn’t give the orders, right?

In some ways this Wolf of Wall Street styled thread sticks as part of the current zeitgeist.  Jordan Belfort is now Alec Baldwin, and he’s a piece of work.  All the male characters distinguish themselves, usually in opposition to Jasmine.  A lot of heated, intense drama erupts when Jasmine is forced to come live with her lower class estranged sister — whom her former husband robbed of her life savings.

Woody intertwines the lives such that we have all sorts of unresolved tensions to play out, money, theft, the treatment of others, attitudes, class bias that sort of thing.  It’s all top notch stuff, and I’m liking the current Woody better than the old school silly Woody.

Many have suggested Cate Blanchett for the best actress Oscar, and I’m not sure as yet.  I’ll have to see all the other performances first.  She does an adequate job, but the role is annoying.  Constantly she babbles snips of her lost life on the shiny mountain.  This is an okay approach, but having to endure it takes its toll on the viewer. Because it’s not funny, although some situations are.  It’s a serious breakdown, and we can either feel sympathetic for Jasmine or gloat on her misfortunes … or both.

4/5

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