Actress Hope Davis has broken rank and criticised the Hollywood producers that asked her to play Johnny Depp’s mother despite the fact she’s a year younger than him.
She admitted to feeling “peeved” at the fact that producers want to cast young, attractive women to play older roles, rather than the older women themselves. Hang on a minute – Hollywood obsessed with youth and beauty? Swipe me, Guvnor, I had no idea.
Last year, Demi Moore complained about the ageism she was encountering in Tinseltown, and claimed she couldn’t land roles due to the inherent sexism in Hollywood. Having spent an estimated $450k on cosmetic surgery to defy Old Father Time, physics and reason, Demi now looks younger than I did when I was born.
But despite the knee lifts, the nose jobs, the suction, the peels, the implants, the personal trainer, the yoga, the kick-boxing, the live-in nutritionist, the time machine, the virgin’s tears, the portrait ageing in the attic and the pact with Satan, she’s still struggling to find anyone interested in giving her a job.
“It has been a challenging few years, being the age I am, almost to the point where I felt like, well, they don’t know what to do with me,” said Demi.
“I’m not 20. Not 30. There aren’t that many good roles for women over 40. A lot of them don’t have much substance, other than being someone’s mother or wife.”
A wife or mother not being a substantial role? That’s fighting talk, love, especially when your face is held on with a few staples and a couple of elastic bands.
But I take Demi and Hope’s point. There are plenty of meaty film roles for men in their 40s and 50s, and hardly any for terrifying cyborgs of indeterminate age or acting ability.
Of course what Demi really needs to do is latch herself on to the next Tarantino, a director who can cast ‘ironic’ leads and make them look cool even if their last role was as the father of a baby with Bruce Willis’ voice.
Back in the day, when Tarantino’s films weren’t all five day-long self-satisfied claptrap packed with mastubatory images of women stroking samurai swords, he was able to resurrect careers which had been on life-support machines for years.
Sadly, these days Tarantino is rubbish, so he can’t offer any help – in fact he’s probably only another film away from being cast in someone else’s film as a stroke of post-modern irony.
But there is hope: it can’t be long before surgeons master talent implants and when they do, we can only hope that Demi’s at the head of the queue.
(I don’t know enough about Hope Davis to belittle her. Not that this would usually stop me, but it’s Earth Hour soon and I’m helping the planet by not researching her on Google. Don’t thank me, I’m just an everyday hero trying to do my bit.)