There’s been a weird feeling in the air this month, I reckon. Do you feel it too? It’s not because the leaves are turning or because anything is in retrograde, though something probably is. I don’t know, maybe it’s because we’re leading up to Mean Girls season, but it feels as if we’ve been particularly harsh on women recently.
Let’s take a look at the headlines this month. Culturally speaking, one film has dominated the news more than any other. The release of Don’t Worry Darling, actor-turned-director Olivia Wilde’s sophomore effort, has been an undeniable trash fire. And I’m not talking about the movie, because let’s be honest: when has anyone really been talking about the movie?
The offscreen gossip behind the film, now unanimously referred to as the “Don’t Worry Darling drama”, has entirely eclipsed the motion picture itself. First it was Wilde’s romantic relationship with leading man and pop prince Harry Styles. Then there were rumours of a feud between Wilde and lead actress Florence Pugh. Next, the internet speculated that Wilde did not remove self-admitted abuser Shia LaBeouf, who was originally cast to play Styles’ character. And finally, people thought Styles spat on co-star Chris Pine.
But even the staunchest of feminists have watched the hype for Wilde’s feature film implode with a strange kind of relish, sharing praise for Pugh’s “unbothered queen” behaviour (she missed the Venice Film Festival press conference for the movie and turned up late with an Aperol spritz) and mocking the film’s mediocre reviews. It’s not that films can’t be bad, it’s that we’ve all enjoyed dragging it down a little *too* much. And this has translated to real, genuine rage directed at Wilde. It’s even reached far right groups, because… the internet.
Wilde has been held to a standard that male directors are almost never held to, having to defend directorial decisions and explain interpersonal relationships in a way that feels almost like public shaming. Wilde herself even noted this, after she was asked to clarify the details of “spitgate” and the Pugh feud on a talk show last week, saying she doubts her male directing colleagues would be asked anything of the sort. When was Woody Allen held to account like this? When was Michael Bay? We didn’t see him getting called on a talk show to explain why Megan Fox seemed to hate working with him so much. I wonder why that is?
It’s not just this successful woman the world seems to have a problem with. Just look at the reviews of Meghan Markle’s new podcast, Archetypes, which read more like something you’d overhear in hushed tones as you walk into a women’s toilet. Or take the most prominent, enduring story from the week following the Queen’s death: This Morning’s Holly Willoughby and Philip Schofield being accused of skipping The Queue to get a look at the Queen’s coffin while she was lying in state.
The news has caused uproar and This Morning had to release a statement saying that the pair were only there for reporting duties, not so they could get a good look at the coffin. The apology was not received well, so the uproar continued. But it wasn’t split equally: it was Willoughby’s face plastered across newspapers the next day; Willoughby who was rumoured to be “crying all night” and facing the sack from her position as co-host; and Willoughby who was torn down for wrecking her “unthreateningly perfect” reputation.
But Schofield has never had to be “unthreateningly perfect”. At times, he’s been far from it, even receiving some pretty bad press of his own in the past - but it all evaporates as quickly as it appears because there’s never quite the appetite for dragging a man down like there is for a woman.
Meghan Markle might not be your favourite podcast host, but that doesn’t make her a “sycophant” or “self-aggrandising Californian” as reviews suggest. Holly Willoughby may have skipped a queue for work, but she doesn’t deserve articles about her sobbing behind the scenes. And Don’t Worry Darling may be a very bad film in it’s own right - but that’s up to you and the critics to decide, not Olivia Wilde’s interpersonal relationships.
We’ve all had a big month of bitching, but now it’s time to retract our bared teeth, quit the snarling and go back to building women up.
