How Hollywood Sells a Culture of Dominance

The industry has never been silent about keeping white men in power

In an essay on Alfred Hitchcock’s 1964 film Marnie, Richard Brody talks about a “conspiracy of silence” that has developed around the famed director of Vertigo and The Birds. Cinephiles love to praise Hitchcock’s craft, he notes, but avoid discussion of the real world obsessions which informed that craft:

“[Marnie] is, to put it simply, sick, and it’s so because Hitchcock was sick. He suffered all his life from furious sexual desire, suffered from the lack of its gratification, suffered from the inability to transform fantasy into reality, and then went ahead and did so virtually, by way of his art. That’s why Hitchcock’s methods…are relevant to Hitchcock alone. That’s why the veneration of Hitchcock as the reigning model of directorial precision and control is grotesquely counterproductive for filmmakers and critics…”

As women continue to come forward this week with stories of abuse at the hands of mega-producer Harvey Weinstein — which now includes multiple accusations of rape — many across the film industry are rightfully calling for an end to the “culture of silence” around the sexual violence of men in power. This includes Tippi Hedren, the actress whom Hitchcock sexually harassed on the set of Marnie, who took to Twitter on Wednesday to say, “it has taken 50 years, but it is about time.”

Yet, though the voices of women have indeed been systematically ignored, and most men in Hollywood have remained quiet for decades about instances of abuse they may or may not have known about, the industry overall has never been silent about where it stands in relation to the dominance of men. In fact, in most ways, it has been loudly supportive of it.

As Brody points out, Alfred Hitchcock is considered by many to be the greatest of all directors precisely for the way he exerted absolute power over his productions. And a majority of Hollywood films are, after all, still about and controlled by (straight) white men like him and Weinstein. This tends to mean that most films are produced, intentionally or not, in ways which glorify those same white men in power. As others have noted, this creates an exclusive environment in which women, especially women of color, often find themselves on the outside looking in — or, as is reflected in the narratives of Weinstein’s victims, having to endure harassment, abuse, and assault just to get a foot in the door.

But this model of filmmaking also creates an endless cycle of hypermasculinity — one where the films getting made reflect the white, man-tastic system which produces them, and vice versa. Thus it’s worth asking, even as The Weinstein Company works to erase his name from their films and the powers that be have kicked him out of the Academy, if it is possible to separate Harvey Weinstein from the work he produced. Or rather, whether we can fully separate “the culture of silence” which allows powerful abusers like him to thrive, from the culture which Hollywood continues to adulate onscreen.

Yes, Hollywood is dominated by men, but what it has long sold, as a product, is specifically an ideal of dominance. Characters like Ben Affleck’s Batman or Matt Damon’s Jason Bourne — like Alfred Hitchcock, the auteur — are not simply popular heroes because they are men, but because they are straight white men who take control and exert power over others. This ability to dominate situations, whether performed by Thor or Danny Ocean, also theoretically makes these men irresistible to women. And in films like Ocean’s Eleven or The Godfather, an additional benefit and allure is the support structure — the boys club — which forms around a man’s performance of power.

By all accounts, Harvey Weinstein sees himself as an example of this kind of man. In the harrowing narratives shared thus far, Weinstein plays the role of powerful ladies man, one who knowingly exploits the supposed weaknesses of women. According to Emily Nestor, a former assistant to Weinstein, the producer once responded to a rebuke by saying, “Oh, the girls always say ‘no.’…And then they have a beer or two and then they’re throwing themselves at me.” Echoing President Donald Trump’s words on the Access Hollywood tape, he speaks in the language of a predator, but also the language of Hollywood’s favorite icons of masculinity.

The kinds of white heroes which the leading men of Hollywood, men with famous last names like Damon, Affleck, Pitt, and Clooney— along with A-list directors like Martin Scorsese and Quentin Tarantino — have often created and been awarded for doing so. Their characters might not literally assault women onscreen, but characters like Tyler Durden, Michael Clayton, or even Will Hunting, are idealized, awed, and respected for their authority; their dominance. These white men, playing these parts and making these Oscar-worthy films, have defined what masculinity is supposed to look like in American society for as long as Weinstein has been a force behind-the-scenes.

They are in the same business of selling manhood to the masses, and as a result of perpetuating ideals of masculinity predicated on dominance, they continue to serve — perhaps unwittingly —as a kind of protective boys club for abusers.

“The very fact that Hollywood is organized around the desires and demands of straight white men is what allows a system of dominance to persist.”

According to multiple accounts, Weinstein’s predation reached women at the very top of Hollywood’s A-list — including Academy Award winners Angelina Jolie and Gwyneth Paltrow — and “he boasted about the famous actresses he had supposedly slept with” in order to create the implication that being on that prestigious list required giving in to his demands. “This is how this business works,” Weinstein told Dawn Dunning.

But if Weinstein, and men like him, buy into the idea that women need to submit to them in order to succeed in their business, what ideas do these same industry leaders have about what it takes to be an A-list man? What sacrifices does one have to make? Or rather, how must one perform masculinity to be accepted? To be admired and exalted?

In Allan Johnson’s The Gender Knot, the sociologist describes manhood under patriarchy as needing to “differ from adult womanhood enough to justify organizing social life” around men:

“This calls for a vision of male adulthood based on a social, psychological, spiritual, and physical territory that men can identify with and defend as exclusively their own.”

The same social system which dictates that women serve men requires the pinnacles of masculinity to be exemplars of dominance. As a result, Hollywood’s most famous men must find a way to fit this mold, and sell it on screen.

But as bell hooks explains, the patriarchal mold doesn’t just take the form of physical violence or overt misogyny. The very fact that Hollywood is organized around the desires and demands of straight white men is what allows a system of dominance to persist. Turning down the next Sin City is a great idea, but that alone won’t transform this culture.

The New York Times recently referred to Tom Hanks as “Hollywood’s Most Decent Fella,” but in reality, white men like Hanks — who has almost never worked with a woman of color in a career spanning four decades — have done little to shift the power imbalance in their industry, despite retaining an image of manly “decency” which keeps them on top.

It’s no shock that he and Damon, along with men like Judd Apatow, can seemingly only express disdain for Weinstein’s actions by individualizing it — mentioning specific women in their lives as the impetus for responding, or pointing to the specific people who are at blame for not stopping Weinstein. They rarely include themselves in this work. Hanks, for instance, told the Times, “Isn’t it kind of amazing that it took this long? I’m reading it and I’m thinking ‘You can’t do that to Ashley Judd! Hey, I like her. Don’t do that.” Apatow, the producer of Superbad, says about Weinstein, “It’s hard to say, ‘Let’s go get him!’ because we’re not a part of it.” Damon, who mentioned his daughters in explaining his increasing awareness of abuse, also once infamously dismissed Effie Brown’s concerns about diversity behind-the-camera on the set of Project Greenlight. For these men, it’s not so much that there are systemic power imbalances in Hollywood, but more so that there are a few bad apples who aren’t decent enough to know better.

But it’s past time for white men at the very top of the industry, like those in power across society, to consider how their own work either supports or challenges the centering of society around people like them. Otherwise, they will continue to play into the same ideal of dominance which informs the violence of the so-called “bad apples.” Because, as so many women have noted, the Weinsteins of the world are not addicted to sex — they are addicted to power.

Rebecca Solnit, reflecting on the stories of Weinstein’s abuses and other recent acts of terror, writes in The Guardian:

“It’s the authoritarianism of violence that seems too often overlooked…It’s time to talk about the fact that many men seem erotically excited by their ability to punish, humiliate, inflict pain on women — the subject of a lot of porn.”

Solnit connects this to the work of the recently deceased Playboy founder Hugh Hefner, whose career served to “perpetuate women’s subordination.” The solution for this spreading violence, according to Solnit, lies in “how we raise boys, in what we define as erotic, in how men can discourage each other from the idea that dominating and harming women enhances their status.” Of course Hefner isn’t just linked to the misogyny which informs mainstream pornography, he’s also inseparable from James Bond (to whom he often compared himself) and Hollywood at-large.

For so long, to reach the pinnacle of cinematic masculinity one has had to project the same qualities which led Hefner to designate Thursdays at the Playboy Mansion “James Bond Night.” Some of those qualities — power over others, use of force, whiteness — are why a 2010 review of The American also describes George Clooney as embodying the “suave, charismatic style” of 007. But the ideal of dominance in Hollywood doesn’t just require men to tower over women, to perform violence, or to take up space — it also encourages them to build mansions where other men will “defend” that power at all costs.

In Good Will Hunting, Ben and Casey Affleck’s characters celebrate this kind of deeply loyal bond with Damon’s Will Hunting. Weinstein of course backed that film, which won Oscars for the writers and launched the careers of all three, but ever since they landed on the national radar, the trio have also been seen by the media in a similar way — Boston brothers, inseparable. Which is perhaps why, regardless of what they knew about Weinstein, Ben and Matt also had little to say about the public accusations of sexual harassment against Casey throughout his Oscar-winning campaign last year. They certainly didn’t take that opportunity to start an industry-wide campaign against misogyny in Hollywood either.

In maintaining these exclusive clubs, these men and their films recreate and promote the gender norms which boys learn early on. What sociologists Judy Chu and Carol Gilligan describe as “Mean Teams” of masculinity, predicated on peer pressure. This culture, as it manifests in the adult world, is not just one of silence around abuse, but one which coddles abusers, and amplifies the dominant, all-powerful position of men in society. It’s why Roman Polanksi, who raped a 13-year-old and has been accused of more, is an Oscar-winning director with whom many leading men continue to work. Or why Woody Allen, Hefner’s favorite director, has also been deemed Oscar-worthy after being accused of sexual assault by his own daughter. This fear of disturbing the universe leads us to a place where guys like Hitchcock and countless others remain openly in the esteem of the mainstream film community.

Staying quiet about the violence of men around you, especially for straight white cisgender men, is profitable. It’s good for your career. But, at the same time, most men have also internalized the “guy code,” that pernicious idea, supported by the movies, that men keep each other’s secrets, that bros come before hos. That you never talk about fight club. And as a result, stepping out of line risks being perceived as unmanly, as feminine.

The victims of this code don’t just include women — as Terry Crews and others in Hollywood have proven this week — and the perpetrators can be people of all genders. Yet until A-list white men, along with those who write about film in the mainstream, are willing to challenge the white supremacist hyper-masculine obsession with control under which Hollywood film is submerged, then the industry won’t change anytime soon.

As long as dominance is the celebrated standard of manhood, violence will be an elevated tool for expressing it. So it’s not enough to eliminate one white man from the Academy. It’s not enough for men to condemn that single white man in a tweet, or to do a few interviews on TV.

The question is what conversations will men lead on film sets this week? In meetings at studios, with other men who are producers, directors, and actors? Will they commit to listening to women more, especially women of color? Will they give up some money? Will they join the work of creating new cultural standards?

Do men in power have the courage to be vulnerable like all those who have come forward with stories of abuse? To dismantle the clubs and transform how they portray themselves to other men? Or will they choose to retreat once more into the cacophony of the status quo, their own dominance safely intact? As long as they take the latter route, some men in the industry will continue to find it easy to lean on, exploit, and hide behind the codes of a patriarchal cinema which will continue to flourish.