Commentary: The Scarlett Johansson Controversy

THE SCARLETT JOHANSSON CONTROVERSY by Bennett Campbell Ferguson

Above: Ms. Johnansson in her latest film, "Under the Skin"

It started out as a simple job.  Anthony Lane, film critic for The New Yorker, was assigned to write a profile of Scarlet Johansson.  With limited access to the talented actress (it’s obvious from reading the piece that he only had the opportunity to interview her once), he crafted an article that was simultaneously thought-provoking and maddening, in that fascinating way that so much of his writing is.

            And yet, the piece made many people genuinely mad.  In its wake, Mr. Lane has been attacked for being an intellectual pervert who squeezed a Johansson fetish into his writing, thereby objectifying a gifted and intelligent artist.  Yet his work has called our attention to something important—the role that attraction plays in film criticism.  No reviewer can avoid being called upon to write about a film starring an actress or actor that they’ve fantasized about.  How they react to that assignment raises the question of how desire and celebrity worship fit into a form of writing that is supposed to be coolly objective.

            When in doubt, I say be honest.  Mr. Lane may be under fire for his adoring description of Ms. Johansson’s form, but some reviewers do manage to intelligently address their lust for certain stars.  Remember when New York Times critics Manohla Dargis and A.O. Scott bantered about upcoming movies back in 2004?  It was a compelling dialogue, but the fizziest moment was easily when Ms. Dargis asked Mr. Scott, “Is there anything you’re salivating over?”  His reply: “I don’t tend to salivate…unless there are certain actresses involved.” 

            For the record, it’s hard to miss Mr. Scott’s celebrity crushes on Nicole Kidman and Emily Blunt.  Yet he never demeans or drools over the performers he reviews.  Yes, the man acknowledges the pleasure he takes in seeing beautiful people onscreen (as does Ms. Dargis, who described Michael Fassbender and Penelope Cruz as “beauties” in her review of “The Counselor”), but he does so without descending into exploitive idiocy.  Instead, he’s honest (and slyly self-mocking) about his feelings.

            For a lot of people, Mr. Lane crossed that line; in particular, Mercury critic Zac Pennington memorably accused him of writing the Johansson profile “like a grad school application to Esquire.”  Do I agree?  Yes and no.  I don’t approve of the article’s queasy rapturousness; I don’t see how anyone could.  But anyone who has read Mr. Lane’s other work knows that he is one of the most insightful film critics on the planet—that his contributions to the industry far outweigh his recent failings.  And besides, criticizing him for being a soulless hack ignores the compassion and goodness that is so evident in his other reviews.  All you need to do is read his write-up on the Swedish film “Lilya 4-Ever” to be reminded of how much he loves not movies, but people.

Of course, Mr. Lane’s other great strength is that he writes reviews that are both memorable and frustrating; in fact, I rarely agree with him (not least because he doesn’t share my passion for Christopher Nolan).  But I would never deny his writing ability because he always manages to make you think about movies and how we view them.  And now, inadvertently, he has done it again by starting a crucial discussion via his own gooey transgressions.

            I have to wonder how this will all play out.  Will Mr. Lane apologize?  Will he insist on the validity of his writing?  I have no idea.  But whatever happens, the whole mess has reminded me of the danger of presuming your own objectivity.  Indeed, that may have been Mr. Lane’s greatest mistake—had he been upfront and self-deprecating about his adoration for Ms. Johansson, I might not be writing this article now.  Really, we are all at the mercy of our own romantic instincts; the trick is not to suppress them, but to address them, before we write something we regret.