Scarlett also suffers from repentant beauty syndrome

Sooner or later someone will have to explain the mysterious arcanum according to which all the actresses who have established themselves also for their beauty, above all for their beauty, at a certain point discover that they have been, despite themselves, treated like hotties: it was better to be ugly and humpbacked and be able to recite Hamlet on four unsteady boards of the last off Broadway theater to unblock the depths of their restless soul, rather than straddling Jonathan Rhys Myers in the rain in Match Point: or at least that’s what he would like to do with it to believe Scarlett Johansson, the umpteenth regret of the gnoccaggine who, in full podcast auto-da-fe (by Dax Shepard), doesn’t seem to consider the bitter possibility that if she were slightly uglier in Hollywood she could continue to clear the tables of some grills, not necessarily Musso and Frank.

Scarlett Johansson claims she was hypersexualized


Nah, it’s a sick system, the Eleonora Duse from overseas is tormented: pity that everyone exploits it and in fact it seems to like it less towards forty, but it is the star system, beauty (exactly). “I was treated like an object and classified only on the basis of my forms” Scarlett whines without restraint, a rare case of a millionaire tool with hundreds of films in her assets. “I felt like I wasn’t being offered the roles I really wanted to do. I remember thinking to myself, maybe people think I’m forty. I had been acting for many years, so people thought I was older. Maybe that’s why I was hyper sexualized “. As if in those parts those who are forty are still alive from an artistic point of view and cannot be assimilated to a museum exhibit, apart from a few lucky exceptions that we all know: one might wonder why then Johansson has not rejected hypersexualizing films and/ or photos in guêpière and whatever else she wasn’t really convinced of, proving the fact that consistency and common sense are now a decidedly anachronistic combination and thanks to the goldfish-like collective memory that we find ourselves, one day we can support one thing and the day after the exact opposite, in any case no one will notice it and if it were to happen tant pis for the naive culprit, who will all be blamed since reasoning has become the worst of crimes.

He doesn’t pay for his outburst, Scarlett insists and is reproduced in a triple pike, articulated as follows: ”I see actors who are twenty now and it seems to me that they are authorized to be whatever they want, even different from what was imposed in my time. It’s a new time. We are no longer allowed to categorize actors as we used to. Everything is much more dynamic”, which sounds like the equivalent, in this current dawn of a new era, as she calls it, of “I see people, I do things, I move”. Evidently the lowest common denominator of the meaningless pneumatic vacuum is movement, provided one understands that I am in exactly the right part of the chorus. Oh yeah. Footnote: yet I forgive you for this post #metoo sandpaper, Scarlett. I do it because, despite the ridiculous genuflection to the prevailing nonsense, you, the highest paid actress in Hollywood, have been the only one to have the courage to defend Woody Allen from the accusations that have defamed him because of his ex’s desire for revenge. Alone in the midst of a plethora of repentant and whining actors who, poor things, knew nothing of the accusations launched against Allen, because they are troglodytes who live in caves, not multimillionaire stars with their eyes always on social media and surrounded by rapacious publicists. So honor to you, even if with podcast delirium you represent an industry that is indignant only to protect itself. It is well known that hashtags on social media move more money than ticketing in cinemas.