Reading Ronan Farrow’s book about exposing Weinstein has made me think about my approach to culture writing

Ronan Farrow’s book Catch and Kill: Lies, Spies, and a Conspiracy to Protect Predators came out on 15 October. Farrow was one of the journalists who broke the Harvey Weinstein sexual misconduct scandal in 2017 (he wrote for The New Yorker; two other journalists, Jodi Kantor and Megan Twohey, published another investigation in The New York Times).

As an entertainment writer based in the US, I consider Catch and Kill to be required reading (as is Kantor and Twohey’s book about the scandal, She Said: Breaking the Sexual Harassment Story That Helped Ignite a Movement) and so, for the past two weeks, I’ve been slowly wading through it. My slowness isn’t a reflection of the book’s quality (it’s well written and captivating) – it’s just that Farrow’s account of his investigation into Weinstein is so infuriating that I can only consume it in bite-sized pieces.

According to Farrow, NBC was shockingly reluctant to let him pursue the story, let alone air it on the network (where he was employed at the time). NBC has defended its handling of the story and claimed that Farrow had an “axe to grind”. But NBC is only one part of Farrow’s narrative. The larger picture he paints is that of a world dominated by intimidation tactics, non-disclosure agreements, and impunity – a world where powerful men are constantly protected from their own doings.

We’ve known for a while that Hollywood has, shall we say, issues. But the Weinstein scandal has had an incredible effect, in that for the past two years, it has put a face on the people affected by said issues. Abusive behaviour is no longer considered the fanciful mark of creative geniuses whose brains just work too fast for this world. Instead, it’s being recognised for what it is: a harmful practice that affects and derails actual human lives.

As a reporter – or even a reader – it can be hard sometimes to hold beloved actors, musicians, directors, and other creative types to the same kind of scrutiny as you would, say, politicians. Those people have all contributed to the cultural output that shaped your childhood and possibly your world view. To read or write about entertainment is to read or write about something that you connect with deeply on an emotional level. We don’t always want to know what goes on once the cameras stop rolling.

It doesn’t help that culture journalism, like many other forms of reporting, is heavily based on access – celebrities can choose whether or not to speak to a particular outlet, and they might not do so if they don’t think it’s in their best interest. Friendships with journalists who go easy on them sometimes arise. And yet, in culture journalism just like in the rest of the industry, it’s vital to remember that a writer’s first duty is to their readers – not to actors, directors, or producers, and certainly not to Hollywood itself.

Yours,

Clémence Michallon

US culture writer