If I had a nickel for every disturbing Harvey Weinstein story out there, I’d be flush with cash. As rich as a Congress rape victim after a juicy settlement. Speaking of assault, this new Weinstein exposé is possibly one of the most eye-opening yet. Actress Salma Hayek just penned an op-ed for The New York Times detailing her experience within the Hollywood rape machine. You should give the full thing a read, but here be the highlights.
I was so excited to work with [Harvey] and [Miramax]. In my naïveté, I thought my dream had come true. He had taken a chance on me — a nobody. He had said yes.
Little did I know it would become my turn to say no.
No to opening the door to him at all hours of the night, hotel after hotel, location after location, where he would show up unexpectedly, including one location where I was doing a movie he wasn’t even involved with.
No to me taking a shower with him. No to letting him watch me take a shower. No to letting him give me a massage. No to letting a naked friend of his give me a massage. No to letting him give me oral sex. No to my getting naked with another woman. No, no, no, no, no …
This establishes something we already know about Harvey: he demanded sex from women. But it’s what he did after Salma refused him which reveals the depths of his evil.
With every refusal came Harvey’s Machiavellian rage. I don’t think he hated anything more than the word “no.” The absurdity of his demands went from getting a furious call in the middle of the night … to physically dragging me out of the opening gala of the Venice Film Festival … so I could hang out at his private party with him.
The range of his persuasion tactics went from sweet-talking me to that one time when, in an attack of fury, he said the terrifying words, “I will kill you, don’t think I can’t.”
Knowing what I know now, I wonder if it wasn’t my friendship with … Quentin Tarantino and George Clooney — that saved me from being raped.
So Harvey Weinstein did more than just subject women to his sex burgling and wandering paws. He was not only a raging molestoid. He threatened the LIVES of those who refused to let him loot their pants.
Behold, the man who Hollywood protected for years. This molesting minotaur. A fondlesome Fenrir, if you will.
The worst part? Harvey would have been little more than a pervish, harmless toad if it weren’t for the inner circle of elitists who defended and insulated him (see George Clooney ‘Claims’ He Knew Nothing of Harvey Weinstein’s Actions. Sure… and Um, What?! Harvey Weinstein’s TWC Contract Allowed for Sexual Harassment). Hollywood empowered this man. As in the same Hollywood who lectures the west about rape culture and sexism, likely in a limp-wristed attempt to wash their guilty conscience. Except some things can’t be washed clean. Like Harvey’s favorite houseplants.
Kudos to Salma for sharing her story. It goes to show that, no, Hollywood, despite all your finger pointing, the rest of America isn’t as rape-crazy as you lot…