The Unpopular Opinion

Over the past few weeks I have tried to convince myself that Woody Allen molested Dylan Farrow. I was not successful.

But I had to try, as Dylan in person publicly asked me to, from the pages of The NY Times, as a Woody Allen fan. First I tried alone, reading and thinking and recollecting the entire years 1992 and 1993, especially the fairly serious conversations I had with friend A. on the whole matter while we were driving around with our brand new driving licenses (you drive a lot when you have a brand new driving license, you don’t think much about petrol, it was so cheap back then anyway). Then I tried with the interviews. I actually called half a dozen people I know and trust, including friend A., and asked them if they (now) believe that Woody Allen molested Dylan Farrow. They all consistently said no, I still think Mia Farrow abused Dylan by planting the idea in her.

Sorry. I know this is ugly. So ugly even Stephen King had problems finding words.

The point is that back in 1992-93 we were all convinced that Mia Farrow was having a terrible nervous breakdown and was inventing the nastiest allegation she could think of in order to take revenge for the Soon Yi affair and especially to gain exclusive custody of the children, without considering the consequences on Dylan’s life. This is what we used to believe, and what happened last month did nothing but reinforce our opinion. Dylan resurfaces, clearly traumatized, in the context of a well-timed narrative orchestrated by Mia Farrow to prevent Allen from winning an Oscar following a Golden Globe. Ronan backs Mia, Moses repents.

Of course we could be wrong. But I’ve personally tried very hard to convince myself that I’m wrong, that I’m some sort of dehumanized product of rape culture, but I just couldn’t believe what Mia Farrow fed the media back in 1992 and I can’t what she’s feeding the media now. It was all so blatantly staged (remember the creepy Valentine card?) and dramatized (remember everyone changing their names and immediately informing the tabloids?) and perfectly timed (the allegations about Dylan brought up right when they could be useful for the custody). It was so obvious that those were the ways of a person who was in deep psychological distress and could not be trusted. When last year Mia publicly declared that Ronan/Satchel is maybe Sinatra’s son maybe not, it was clear she was not over it yet. Honestly, who cares who’s Ronan/Satchel’s father, except those directly involved? Well, it was a calculated prelude to the red carpet season.

And of course Dylan is the victim here. I was on the other side of the media fence when she was only a little girl sent out in front of a camera so I’m now the target of her (in itself rightful) anger, and all this only because her mother doesn’t want he father to win a frankly ridiculous Hollywood prize he probably doesn’t even care about? It’s disgusting. I am disgusted.

And if I turn out to be wrong in the end, at least I will have practiced disgust already.