Can You Separate The Art From The Artist?

“Donald Trump, Pablo Picasso, Harvey Weinstein, Bill Cosby, Woody Allen, Roman Polanski. These men are not exceptions, they are the rule. And they are not individuals, they are our stories. And the moral of our story is, we don’t give a shit, we don’t give a fuck…about women or children. We only care about a man’s reputation. What about his humanity?” — Hannah Gadsby

For me, this is a smell-the-roses quote, validation of a sentiment that I subconsciously already knew. But, it wasn’t until I actually heard the words that I felt the weight of reputation fall onto my shoulders. It had always been there, just invisible. I hadn’t thought about it much before but as a film student, male reputation is a frequent discussion. Can I watch this guy’s film? I know he sexually assaulted over 20 women, but can I still watch it? Can I separate the art from the artist? No, you can’t. It’s only now, after immersing myself in these abuse cases perpetrated by powerful men, specifically men like Bernardo Bertolucci, that I am able to confidently answer, “No”, because to separate the art from the artist is not a victimless action.

Obviously there is malefaction involved when you’re talking about separating the art from the artist. There has to be a reason to even consider this separation, the artist involved has done something bad. And let’s be honest, we aren’t cancelling him for money laundering, in the majority of examples this idea of separation only comes up when a famous man has sexually assaulted a woman. But the reputation of the man, his artistic talent, seems like enough to disregard his actions and the women he victimized as a result. People have come to sympathize more with a man losing respect than a woman being sexually assaulted, but it’s even scarier because when you look at it closer than the breaking news article, sexual assault is not just a headline or horrible thing that happened, it doesn’t end.

Sexual assault lives long past the instance, it hangs like raincloud and ruins everything around it: identity, relationships, safety, reputation, mental health, and ultimately lives. So, you’re not actually weighing a man’s reputation and a sexual assault case, you’re weighing a man’s right to respect with a woman’s life. And I almost recognize the view of not equating assault with a life, it’s something that you can never truly understand the severity of unless you’ve lived it. But still, sharing the stories of the victims is at least a start to accepting the true consequences of separating the art from the artist.

When I consider the treatment of these victims, what makes me most angry is the hypocrisy of it all. Hollywood has no qualms mixing artistic or personal lives when there’s something to gain from it. In her post in the New York Times, Amanda Hess writes, “Even as they’ve been accused of harassment, Hollywood men have attempted to fend off the charges by trotting out such good deeds. Mr. Spacey cynically chose this moment to announce that he is gay in a bid to spin a harrowing assault tale into a heartwarming coming-out one. Mr. Weinstein countered accusations by dozens of women by mentioning his generous contributions to a scholarship fund for female directors. And Bill Cosby was more than happy to confuse his art with his personal life when he bellowed his old Fat Albert catchphrase — “Hey, hey hey!” — as he exited a courtroom this past summer during his trial for sexual assault” (Hess). If there’s no separation of the art and the artist when it can benefit the person involved, why does that not apply when the artist is being reprimanded? In Hollywood, the art and the artist are so conflated that it’s ludicrous to think you can set the two apart. The whole game of becoming a famous artist is to attach your work and name so closely that audiences will want to continue consuming your work, just because they’re fans. It feels exploitative and manipulative, not only to the victims but to the audience, these high power individuals know exactly how to make the public love them for the good and ignore the bad. The key to making unbiased decisions on these men, is to dig deeper and discover the actual story behind their crimes.

A particular story that I think is important to share is that of Maria Schneider. One movie that any film student is sure to encounter during their classes is Last Tango in Paris, the 1972 Parisian romance-drama directed by Bernardo Bertolucci. The film centers on the tumultuous relationship of an older man and a younger woman, played by Marlon Brando and Maria Schneider respectively. The movie served as 19 year old Schneider’s debut role, a debut that most young actresses could only dream of, considering Bertolucci and Brando’s status in the film industry. However, we know where this is going, the role turned out to be anything but a dream for Schneider, which she credited as the “biggest regret” of her life.

During filming, Bertolucci decided to add an unscripted rape scene to the film and told Brando to sodomize the unsuspecting Schneider with a stick of butter. Bertolucci decided to not tell Schneider about the plan because he wanted her real life reaction to being forcibly sodomized on camera (Cole). At the time, Schneider didn’t have much knowledge of the film industry and didn’t understand the severity of the situation, how wrong it was for the director to force an unscripted act on her. Despite her confusion over her options, Schneider despised how the experience made her feel. For years after the movie’s release, she tried to tell the public about her rape and credited the moment as ruining her view of film and leaving her humiliated.

It wasn’t until 2013, however, that Schneider’s story was validated when, during an interview, Bertolucci confessed that Schneider’s recount of the rape was true (Fonseca). In reflecting on the incident he said, “I’d been, in a way, horrible to Maria, because I didn’t tell her what was going on,” he explained, because “I wanted her reaction as a girl, not as an actress”. Bertolucci abused his young and inexperienced leading lady simply to capture a desired emotion on camera and although Schneider attempted to share her story for years, Last Tango in Paris continues to be applauded by critics and audiences alike and is now regarded as one of Bertolucci’s best works.

After completing the film, Schneider struggled to get the industry to acknowledge her rape, which had also made it very difficult for her to find any new roles. She began to battle depression and addiction, leading to numerous attempts of suicide during her life.

Despite being so unfairly invalidated by the film industry, she still made a point to advocate for the rights of women in the movie world, particularly supporting the movement for increased female directors. Schneider never stopped fighting to get validation for her trauma up until her death from cancer in 2011, two years before Bertolucci publicly admitted to the rape.

“I feel guilty, but I don’t regret it”. This was Bernardo Bertolucci’s comment when admitting his role in Schneider’s rape. “ I don’t regret it”. While he may have no regret when looking back at the situation, Schneider considered it as “the only regret of her life”. So how can such a, now, widely acknowledged, horrible account of abuse still be praised in the movie community?

My experience with ​Last Tango in Paris began in my first few months of film school. I had never seen the movie but upon learning of Schneider’s story, I felt morally obligated to never watch the film and to stop giving either Bertolucci or Brando any praise or attention again.

In that fall, I took a class that analyzed the working relationships of directors and their stars. One day, as I sat listening to my professor, I began to feel very uneasy. For the last few classes my professor had been talking about Marlon Brando’s, and what an “incredible actor “ he was. She said she would be showing us an example of his work. I thought she would probably show us A Streetcar Named Desire ​or maybe The Godfather, like a bunch of my professors had already done, but certainly not Last Tango in Paris​. We all knew, didn’t we? But no, when she powered the screen up, there was Schneider’s face, looking right at me. It was the first time I had seen an image of her in the context of the actual movie. This girl on the screen was about to be raped in front of an entire classroom, for the sake of education. It was too late for us to do anything for her, rather, we were going to sit around and applaud her rapist’s film. I began to cry as the movie started. Once my professor had finished showing the scene, she turned the classroom lights back on. I sat in my seat, feeling just plain guilty. I wanted to get this over with and leave, but as the professor scanned the students for any comments, she noticed me, still crying. “Stop it!” she shouted, pointing at me, for everyone in the large lecture hall to see. I hung my head and stayed silent for the rest of class, never once speaking up for Maria.

Later, as I walked home from that class, I realized this woman, someone who was supposed to be guiding me into the film industry, thought that separating the art from the artist was okay. She valued the “talent” and reputation of Bertolucci and Brando more than she valued one of her student’s sense of safety. And that’s what this issue means to me, safety. Every time I hear a story like that of Bertolucci, Weinstein, Cosby, or Picasso, I feel afraid because one day, myself or a person I love could be on the victim end of the story. By giving men this separating the art from the artist pass, we lessen the consequences of their actions, it sends the message no matter what you do, your precious artistic reputation will be saved. We put their reputation on a pedestal while squashing the reputation of the actual victims.

Looking at what I’ve written so far, I realize that I’m writing this piece out of fear, because as much as I love the film industry, I’m so scared to enter it. I’m scared that one day I’ll be a victim and I’ll have to sit back and hear the praise of my abusers name, because despite everything, his artistic potential is deemed more valuable than mine. So I beg you, do not separate the art from the artist. Let them be one, and let women like Maria Schneider and countless future victims know that their reputation is just as important as any man’s.

…

Reading this piece at the end of a three part project reminds me how unstable opinions are. Unstable may be the wrong word, that almost makes it seem negative, but the fact that a matter of weeks can change your perception of things is both beautiful and unnerving at the same time. I didn’t want to change the content of the writing above too much while editing because it’s a snapshot of my views at a certain point in time. And even though I feel strongly about the way opinions have evolved now, I felt just as strongly when I wrote this WP1. It proves to me that when something really matters to you, you’ll allow yourself the chance to explore it.

Work Cited

Delbyck, Cole. “That Famous Rape Scene In ‘Last Tango In Paris’ Was Not Consensual.” ​The Huffington Post​, TheHuffingtonPost.com, 5 Dec. 2016, www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/bertolucci-last-tango-rape-scene_us_584339a4e4b0c68e04813517​

Fonseca, Mariana. “Maria Schneider Already Called the Last Tango in Paris Scene Rape — Why Did We Only Listen When Bernardo Bertolucci Admitted It?” The Independent, Independent Digital News and Media, 4 Dec. 2016, www.independent.co.uk/voices/last-tango-in-paris-maria-schneider-marlon-brando-bertolucci-director-butter-anal-rape-scene-malea7455166.html#gallery​

Hess, Amanda. “How the Myth of the Artistic Genius Excuses the Abuse of Women.” The New York Times, The New York Times, 10 Nov. 2017, www.nytimes.com/2017/11/10/arts/sexual-harassment-art-hollywood.html​

Parry, Madeline and Jon Olb, directors. Hannah Gadsby: Nanette. Performance by Hannah Gadsby, Netflix, Netflix, 2018, www.netflix.com/watch/80233611?trackId=13752289&tctx=0%2C0%2C6a2168a1e657bd9da94e8ca2a4eca02df894a3d5%3A2af6d35677f2a38b8bcde5d3dcd225cf3efb133c%2C6a2168a1e657bd9da94e8ca2a4eca02df894a3d5%3A2af6d35677f2a38b8bcde5d3dcd225cf3efb133c%2C%2C