I’m back, Dear Readers, and I have to talk about the Harvey Weinstein thing.
Too bad.
It comes as no great surprise to me that this disgusting, entitled, trauma-inducing and illegal behavior is alive and well in Casting Couch Hollywood.
It happens all the time.
And not just in Hollywood.
Too bad.
Famous women all over the world have rung in about their own awful experiences with these despicable predators. No need to recap them here.
But one person’s story really resonated with me.
It was Liza Campbell’s. She’s a British writer and she took a meeting with Harvey at the Savoy in London in the hopes of getting an advancement at Miramax.
Instead of a discussion about her career at his company, what she got was Weinstein stripping and asking her to soap him up.
She fled in disgust- and fear.
As she wrote in the U.K’s Sunday Times “It took me days to calm down from the anger I felt and the crushing realization that there never was a job; only a hidden hook.”
(My bold letters.)
That really rang my bell.
Never a job. Just a trick.
Too bad.
I’ve already written about my own personal horrible encounter with legendary lech- former Tribune star columnist Bob Greene.
(If you can stomach it, read all about it here.)
But it was just my luck to come to the attention of this douchebag, too.
TV film critic Michael Medved.
Yuck.
About twenty-five years ago, when he and Jeffrey Lyons were hosting a tv movie review show, Sneak Previews, he got in touch with me and invited me to meet with him regarding a search for a new co-host.
OMG.
I was, back then, a columnist working for the Pioneer Press looking for a way to break into television. I had a huge interest in film coupled with a vast amount of movie knowledge. This audition sounded like a dream come true.
I was also happily married suburban mother of two.
But when MM invited me downtown to the Ambassador East (where he stayed during the taping of the show at WTTW’s studio) I wasn’t worried. He was, after all, also happily married, a father of three and VERY religious. Almost a rabbi or something.
I wasn’t concerned about his intentions or my safety. Just excited and anxious to make a great impression. I could do this job. I knew it.
He could only meet in the evening as he taped the show during the day. So I wasn’t surprised when he asked me to come downtown for a dinner meeting. We would meet in the lobby, he said.
I’m night blind and can’t drive when the sun goes down so I called for a limousine to take me to the Ambassador East. But when the limo driver dropped me off and I made my way into the lobby…
No MM in sight.
So I called his room- no, make that suite- and he said he was running late and could I come up for a few minutes and have a brief interview before we headed out for dinner.
What would you do if you wanted that job?
I went up.
No, he wasn’t naked. No, he didn’t want a massage. In fact, he was pretty nice, asked some pertinent questions and told me a little about himself.
Then he told me that he kept kosher and was very strict in his observance and would I mind eating at the Indian restaurant within walking distance of the hotel?
Sure, no problem.
We ate and then we walked back to his hotel. MM said he he had a few more interview questions to go over with me and asked that I go back up with him.
What would you do?
I went.
And that’s when he suggested that I stay the night.
I remember being struck by the fact that that slime ball hypocrite was zealous about keeping kosher but didn’t seem to mind breaking the Ten Commandments at all.
Ugh.
I hastily went downstairs, called for a limo and fumed all the way back to Winnetka. (BTW, the limo cost $45 each way back then and Medved, if you’re reading this, I’d like you to refund my money.)
There was never a job. Only a hidden hook.
And I had been fished in.
Too bad.