Words by Lucy Young
Has Sam Levinson’s arrival to the set of The Idol seen a fictional study of industry misogyny turn into an over-sexualised twisted mess?
We all know the troubled timeline of events when it comes to the cultural evolution of sexualising women on screen. In 2017, the University of Southern California found that after analysing 900 top grossing films over the past decade, teenage girls were twice as likely to be partially nude, compared to their male counterparts. On screen, they are also four times more likely to be seen in so-called ‘promiscuous outfits’ than teenage boys.
In recent years, television has embodied the relationship between on-screen sexualisation and young, vulnerable girls portraying their personal strife, all in an effort to further a plot line. The concept of ‘selling sex’ is a world-renowned marketing technique, but a new strain of violent, sadistic sex is readily available on the market, and due to the power and influence of creatives at large, not much is left to the imagination.
The shock value of Sam Levinson’s Euphoria sent waves rippling through a generation of young watchers, and was Levinson’s first break on an international scale. Prior to his writing and direction of the teenage drug and domestic abuse, sex scandal saga, he had creative control over Assassination Nation; a film based upon the sexualisation of teenage girls. A pivotal moment in this film includes a conversation about taking pornographic photos with the high school principal, later revealed to be a paedophile as the plot unfolds.
His creative direction in Euphoria presents similar struggles through different character lenses, with female characters worshipping male leads despite aggressive and traumatic traits and questionable actions.Behind the scenes, Levinson was allegedly hooked on asking female leads to strip for the camera, despite their characters’ adolescent ages. This pattern of questionable judgement seems to be continuing on the set of The Idol, an upcoming HBO drama series co-produced by Levinson and Abel ‘The Weeknd’ Tesfaye, and directed by the former following the ousting of the original director, Amy Siemetz.
The show, still lacking an official release date, has become an entanglement of complaints, confusion, and ‘pornification’ centred around the 21st century television industry. Originally envisioned as a female-written, deliberate mockery and exposé of modern Hollywood, the show seems to have turned into a twisted, abusive and morally reprehensible male perspective on young women in the industry. While there were whispers and side-eyes inside the media bubble, it was Cheyenne Roundtree’s Rolling Stone article that brought the pool of problems into the public eye.
Roundtree exposed the alleged views of those in production, who reportedly defined the show as a predatory “rape fantasy” and project that devolved “from satire [and in]to the thing it was satirizing”. In the transition from Siemetz to Levinson, the new director’s first appearance on set was reportedly to see Lily Rose Depp’s first sexual scene with Tesfaye, with scenes gradually becoming more dependent on the female cast members being used as props for male sexual gratification. The worst reports came from team members who had been involved with script changes and supposedly witnessed the full extent of extremes that were discussed in writers rooms. Sources said that one troubling scene involved Tesfaye repeatedly punching Depp’s face, while her character dubbed a grin and begged for more, resulting in an erection from Tesfaye’s character. There are continuous mentions of Depp’s character begging to be ‘raped’, something that she is portrayed as submitting to throughout the short-form series.
Many crew members reportedly felt confused and misled by the original portrayal of the series, comparing it to a Frankenstein-like project under Levinson’s direction, being repeatedly torn apart and put back together in the hopes of raising any kind of hollow storyline. Overtly explicit abuse and rape of young girls and women appears to be the only common theme in HBO’s The Idol, and additionally in all of Levinson’s other mainstream productions to date. The bad press coverage that the show has already garnered will either be a curse which permanently stains the series, or one of the best marketing ploys ever executed by Levinson. After all, as Minka Kelly declared in an interview with Vanity Fair, “we’re all here to facilitate his vision”. It’s not too hard to envision the power dynamics between an established director, and brand new, young faces in the acting space.
Despite the state of this series, and the industry at large, one common trend that can be seen in all cases involving alleged male predators in Hollywood are the bystanders and enablers that stayed silent despite obvious warning signs and red flags. From Sydney Sweeney publicising her discontent with the objectification of her body on set, to Minka Kelly complaining about excessive implications and nudity, and Chloe Cherry reportedly being asked to get naked on her first day on set; Levinson’s undeniable obsession with inviting a bare vulnerability of young girls on screen is disturbing, and lacks the creative edge to justify how often it happens in his productions. It is promising to see actors and production staff publicise concerns that have been seen sprinkled across tabloids for decades, but it demonstrates that Hollywood, and the ‘Me Too’ Movement, is far from reaching sanctuary.
Babylon: Wonder Of the World Or Just Another Box Office Bomb?