By Matthew Werner
In the wake of #MeToo, we have seen the careers of many titans come crumbling down. Just recently, the lead English voice actor of popular anime Fullmetal Alchemist, Vic Mignogna, had his meet an oh so timely demise for a history of sexual misconduct bubbling to the surface. As to whether this new culture of shining a light to sexual abuse can sustain outrage long enough for lasting systemic change or if people will just move on to the next atrocity unblinkingly has yet to be seen, but we have seen many a skeptic ask (usually in bad faith, by my estimate) if it's worth sweeping magnificent artistry under the rug because of not-so-magnificent beliefs or actions by the artist. Ignoring those who are asking such questions in bad faith, I thought I'd give my answer to this quandary.
Lovers of art have long squabbled over the so-called "death of the artist"--the idea that once the art is consumed by the public, it is to be judged upon its own merits. While it's a cute idea, it often does not work when applied as our arts become evermore personality driven. You watch a Seth McFarlane or Steven Spielberg (not to lump either of them into the dirtbag pile; dislike Seth's work all you like, but he actually seems to be a fairly decent dude in this respect so don't try dragging people whose work you dislike into this just to score some hits on them) show or film, then their fingerprints are going to be all over it. So why do people just up and think folks can watch a Quintin Tarantino film, or read an Ethan Van Sciver comic, or watch a Nostalgia Critic episode, or whatever fucked up asshole's work and just Men in Black style mind-wipe themselves to forget all about how the artist is an asshole and ignore how the waft of the artist covers their work? Sure, maybe YOU don't have the necessary cognitive dissonance to grow uncomfortable knowing that you're watching a film with Kevin Spacey in it, but don't try to shame or talk down to anyone who does. And that's not to shame anyone who honestly doesn't have such unnerved moments and isn't an asshole about it; the assholes may feel free to be shamed however.
This also ignores how artists may insert their own repulsive thoughts and actions into their work; for example, David Sim of the popular indie comic Cerebus not only had loathsome essays (which we later learned were written by Sim himself, anonymously) about how women are soulless voids of darkness IN Cerebus, he had Cerebus be a similarly irksome individual. Sim's innate prejudices still inform Cerebus greatly with its very solicitations often reading like a madman's screed. The idea that you can just perform mental fission on yourself so you can simply enjoy a work of art is ludicrous.
Even more ludicrous is the idea that, assuming such mental gymnastics were possible for everyone, everyone would prefer to jump through the hoops of distancing themselves from the artist's less than saintly beliefs/acts rather than... I dunno, just doing something else? We live in a society with a wealth of great art by individuals who have done nothing so heinous, that to support those who have major baggage seems silly to me.
I used to love Nostalgia Critic videos, but when I learned of how poorly Channel Awesome treated its contributors I couldn't stomach to just keep on devoting my time and respect to anything that could be so cruel (they didn't even give people water!). And you know what? It led me to stumbling on to reviewers I enjoy much more, including Chris Stuckmann, Lindsay Ellis, and Jenny Nicholson. I don't think the arts are disposable, but I do think revolting artists of any stripe absolutely are. In a market with many alternatives, why settle for the asshole?
This is not to say that I entirely disagree with the idea of "death of the artist." I just believe it is applied wrongly in most instances. Death of the artist makes loads of sense to me when the artist somehow hasn't bled into their art or if someone doesn't recognize the style of the dreg heap in question.
I don't think it's particularly fair to punish the works of what appear to be decent folk for the actions of a lone individual, however. When Border Town was canceled over its writer, Eric Esquivel's misconduct, I couldn't help but feel sorry for his collaborators Ramon Villalobos and Tamra Bonvillain--even if they had not bore the brunt of Esquivel's disgusting behavior--because they did nothing wrong, they had no idea, they were just making good comics. That said, I get why it was canceled and I support that action. It's just sad to see good faith actors having their work blemished by actions they had no part in. When I look at any Tarantino flick, for instance... Django Unchained, I'm always reminded of how he knew about Weinstein and did nothing for decades, and I feel bad for actors like Jamie Foxx. When I saw Baby Driver, it was right after Spacey had been outed as a POS, and every time he popped up I couldn't help but dislike the film a bit more. And it's like, damn, the other actors and talents did nothing wrong! Including poor old Jamie Foxx.
I think it's fair to say that we can of course still consider whatever works from regrettable creators we liked from day one to be of quality. But I would urge anyone not to continue pushing them into the cultural consciousness (or at least anymore than they already have been) with recommendations and the like. Starve the bastards of oxygen.
In the wake of #MeToo, we have seen the careers of many titans come crumbling down. Just recently, the lead English voice actor of popular anime Fullmetal Alchemist, Vic Mignogna, had his meet an oh so timely demise for a history of sexual misconduct bubbling to the surface. As to whether this new culture of shining a light to sexual abuse can sustain outrage long enough for lasting systemic change or if people will just move on to the next atrocity unblinkingly has yet to be seen, but we have seen many a skeptic ask (usually in bad faith, by my estimate) if it's worth sweeping magnificent artistry under the rug because of not-so-magnificent beliefs or actions by the artist. Ignoring those who are asking such questions in bad faith, I thought I'd give my answer to this quandary.
Dragon Ball Z (1989-1996)
Lovers of art have long squabbled over the so-called "death of the artist"--the idea that once the art is consumed by the public, it is to be judged upon its own merits. While it's a cute idea, it often does not work when applied as our arts become evermore personality driven. You watch a Seth McFarlane or Steven Spielberg (not to lump either of them into the dirtbag pile; dislike Seth's work all you like, but he actually seems to be a fairly decent dude in this respect so don't try dragging people whose work you dislike into this just to score some hits on them) show or film, then their fingerprints are going to be all over it. So why do people just up and think folks can watch a Quintin Tarantino film, or read an Ethan Van Sciver comic, or watch a Nostalgia Critic episode, or whatever fucked up asshole's work and just Men in Black style mind-wipe themselves to forget all about how the artist is an asshole and ignore how the waft of the artist covers their work? Sure, maybe YOU don't have the necessary cognitive dissonance to grow uncomfortable knowing that you're watching a film with Kevin Spacey in it, but don't try to shame or talk down to anyone who does. And that's not to shame anyone who honestly doesn't have such unnerved moments and isn't an asshole about it; the assholes may feel free to be shamed however.
Baby Driver (2017)
This also ignores how artists may insert their own repulsive thoughts and actions into their work; for example, David Sim of the popular indie comic Cerebus not only had loathsome essays (which we later learned were written by Sim himself, anonymously) about how women are soulless voids of darkness IN Cerebus, he had Cerebus be a similarly irksome individual. Sim's innate prejudices still inform Cerebus greatly with its very solicitations often reading like a madman's screed. The idea that you can just perform mental fission on yourself so you can simply enjoy a work of art is ludicrous.
Django Unchained (2012)
Even more ludicrous is the idea that, assuming such mental gymnastics were possible for everyone, everyone would prefer to jump through the hoops of distancing themselves from the artist's less than saintly beliefs/acts rather than... I dunno, just doing something else? We live in a society with a wealth of great art by individuals who have done nothing so heinous, that to support those who have major baggage seems silly to me.
Cerebus (1987-)
I used to love Nostalgia Critic videos, but when I learned of how poorly Channel Awesome treated its contributors I couldn't stomach to just keep on devoting my time and respect to anything that could be so cruel (they didn't even give people water!). And you know what? It led me to stumbling on to reviewers I enjoy much more, including Chris Stuckmann, Lindsay Ellis, and Jenny Nicholson. I don't think the arts are disposable, but I do think revolting artists of any stripe absolutely are. In a market with many alternatives, why settle for the asshole?
Nostalgia Critic (2007-)
This is not to say that I entirely disagree with the idea of "death of the artist." I just believe it is applied wrongly in most instances. Death of the artist makes loads of sense to me when the artist somehow hasn't bled into their art or if someone doesn't recognize the style of the dreg heap in question.
Border Town (2018)
I don't think it's particularly fair to punish the works of what appear to be decent folk for the actions of a lone individual, however. When Border Town was canceled over its writer, Eric Esquivel's misconduct, I couldn't help but feel sorry for his collaborators Ramon Villalobos and Tamra Bonvillain--even if they had not bore the brunt of Esquivel's disgusting behavior--because they did nothing wrong, they had no idea, they were just making good comics. That said, I get why it was canceled and I support that action. It's just sad to see good faith actors having their work blemished by actions they had no part in. When I look at any Tarantino flick, for instance... Django Unchained, I'm always reminded of how he knew about Weinstein and did nothing for decades, and I feel bad for actors like Jamie Foxx. When I saw Baby Driver, it was right after Spacey had been outed as a POS, and every time he popped up I couldn't help but dislike the film a bit more. And it's like, damn, the other actors and talents did nothing wrong! Including poor old Jamie Foxx.
The Hateful Eight (2015)
I think it's fair to say that we can of course still consider whatever works from regrettable creators we liked from day one to be of quality. But I would urge anyone not to continue pushing them into the cultural consciousness (or at least anymore than they already have been) with recommendations and the like. Starve the bastards of oxygen.
(Matthew's opinions are his own. Duh.)
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