A "Female Perspective" on The Idol

(Please forgive me for joining in on the already-overwhelmed conversation about Sam Levinson's The Idol, a show that has consumed the minds of the media since the infamous Rolling Stone article was published in early March.)

I'm of the belief that problematic fictional characters do not make that art inherently problematic. I'd even go so far as to say that problematic fictional characters going unchallenged STILL does not make that art inherently problematic. In today's climate of virtue signaling and finger wagging, I find myself gravitating towards art that is provocative and brazen -- the best art is the kind that makes you think, or something like that. 

So when I tell you that Sam Levinson and Abel Tesfaye have lost all my respect as creators, and that I may never be able to engage with anything either of them produce ever again, know that it's not because I am unable to separate problematic art from whatever makes it problematic. It's because the art in question is vile, disgusting, and embarrassing. 

If you're interested in a scene-by-scene break-down of The Idol, it's not hard to find, but that's not what I'm doing here. The highlights: a scene where Tedros (cult leader) tortures Jocelyn (singer-songwriter) so that she can make better art, or perhaps the several instances where allegations of sexual assault are excused as "women lying" (yes, check your calendars: it's still 2023). Most concerning to me was the ending, when it is revealed that Tedros was actually the victim this whole time(!) because Jocelyn was manipulating him into traumatizing her so that her album does well -- because what do women do? Lie! Gaslight! Manipulate men for power! And if men physically, sexually, and verbally abuse women, they're still the victims because they just weren't in control of themselves and frankly, she wanted it to happen. 

The truth is, there is something to be said about the victimization of women; the general public loves a damsel in distress. I began noticing this while watching Criminal Minds -- the victims are always pretty, young women. Bonus points if they die while tearfully protecting their sons, extra bonus points if they're raped before they're killed. But this brutalization isn't limited to crime-based television (where it could be argued that young, beautiful women are most often victims to serial killers): the plots of Of Mice and Men, Native Son, and To Kill A Mockinbird all center around the character growth that results after the horrendous murders of unnamed women. Tom Cruise's partner/lover is stabbed within the first five minutes of Mission: Impossible, and this sight is the catalyst for the rest of the film. There are countless examples (which I encourage you to investigate); once I first recognized this exploitation of feminine suffering, I couldn't unsee it. It's everywhere. 

And while all the examples I cited are fiction (where, arguably, it's fine to make up stories of human suffering for the sake of plot), The Idol could've explored how this obsession with watching women in pain carried over into Hollywood's celebrities. Did the public opinion of Brittney Spears shift back in her favor because we truly began to like her again, or because we realized she needed to be "saved" from her conservatorship? Would Taylor Swift be as big as she is without the keystone events of her career -- Kayne's 2009 VMA Incident, Scooter Braun buying her catalog, John Mayer grooming her -- all events that coincidentally paint her as the victim? In The Idol, Jocelyn "goes public" with her story of parental abuse before she has even begun processing it for herself, because she has a new album coming out and needs publicity. This, although ill-advised, is a fascinating look into what being famous truly is: turning yourself into a monetized commodity. Especially for songwriters like Jocelyn, how much of her career is converting trauma she doesn't understand into art? What does that do to the human psyche? It's a fascinating conversation. 

However, Sam Levinson is not the one who should be leading it, because he is unable to recognize that this, too, is a form of misogyny, thrust upon women by a society obsessed with their downfall. Rather, he seems to think all women are manipulative masterminds, and that our constant scheming undermines (or altogether negates) our trauma. He seems desperate to prove this is true, perhaps because if it were, all the sexual and physical abuse men inflict upon women wouldn't be that big a deal. 

So, ultimately, it seems like Levinson's goal with this project was to...invalidate as much of the feminine experience as possible, sprinkling in some gratutious sex and more cocaine than a drug cartel could sell in six lifetimes for good measure, too. 

This is so wildly different than the project's original goal, which was to ridicule the exploitative nature of Hollywood and highlight its roots in misogyny. Funnily enough, this version of the show was originally speaheaded by director Amy Seimetz, until Abel Tesfaye (The Weeknd) decided that her version, as it stood, catered too much to a "female perspective" and brought in Sam Levinson. 

And you know what? That is the only good piece of satire to come out of this show. Of course a show designed to expose misogyny and trauma within the entertainment industry would fire the only female executive on board (because she provided too much female perspective, of all reasons) and replace her with Sam Levinson, a man who seems to think women's only path to power and control is by playing an Uno-Reverse card on cult leaders with rat tails. 

It's exhausting, all this understated misogyny. I'm so tired of all the infinite ways we quietly marginalize groups of people. I just wish Sam Levinson would come out and say that he hates women, or that all the disgusting sex scenes were perverse wish fulfillment for him. It would save us feminists a whole lot of time and effort trying to prove why this show just..isn't right, and maybe even convince HBO to deplatform him and all his damaging narratives. But alas...if dreams were horses.