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Hollywood’s Men Without Chests

Victor Davis Hanson had the best one-line summary of Trump’s Presidential campaign suggesting that the basic Trump message was: I know the elites in media, Hollywood, big business, and politics and they’re even worse than you think.

Whether or not you think Trump, who came into the campaign as one of those elites also fits that description, the rest of the cultural mavens in question are certainly living down to it.

Now comes Harvey Weinstein, the human stain that won’t come clean because those who knew didn’t for decades.

But how could they? After all, Weinstein is just an extreme version of them, a difference in degree not kind.

The revolting Weinstein is the personification of the darkness that lurks inside the Hollywood beautiful people—and the pols and media types who sidle up to them—now climbing over each other to denounce the conduct about which they previously joked.

But they’re ever ready to trade sensitivity for sensuality. To look the other way requires only that they be rewarded for doing so.

Thus, Brad Pitt can confront Weinstein about his treatment of Pitt’s then girlfriend Gwyneth Paltrow only to subsequently do two movies with Weinstein.

To borrow from C.S. Lewis, they are Hollywood’s men and women without chests. They may possess intellect and they certainly have appetites but they are devoid of truth or any belief in it.

They are the incomplete humans that give rise to monsters like Weinstein.

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