Column: If Hollywood courts George Santos, the joke’s on them — and us
There are many reasons to be grateful that one was not born in 19th century Scotland — the collapse of the agrarian economy, the ghastly sanitation systems of increasingly crowded cities, the consumption of way too much porridge — but still it would be handy to have someone like Sir Walter Scott wandering about.
Especially as the culture copes with George Santos, who, after being charged with 23 counts of, among other things, identity theft, money laundering and fraud, became only the sixth person ever to be expelled from Congress.
In another time, this would have led to somber reporting and a decent interval of communal shunning. But in these days of antihero addiction and perpetual narrative exploitation, folks on legacy and social media are instead taking bets on what he might do next. ”Dancing With the Stars” à la Sean Spicer? “The Masked Singer” like Rudy Giuliani? “The Real Housewives” as suggested by John Oliver?
The correct answer appears to be “making Cameos”: Santos is currently charging $200 a pop on the Cameo app — which allows consumers to purchase personalized video messages from (mostly minor) celebrities — to sit in front of a woefully neglected bit of ivy while encouraging people to ignore the haters, girlfriend, and buy yourself some Botox and Louis Vuitton.
Hijacking the cultural conversation is not a federal crime, but having already given this terrible man more than enough of our time, attention and money, why not choose the Walter Scott option instead?
You know, the one where “The wretch, concentred all in self / Living, shall forfeit fair renown”?
In other words, you’re dead to us, you narcissistic fraud.
Sure, Cameo may be a step down from Congress (though perhaps not this particular House), but Santos, as masterfully performed by Bowen Yang, still got to cold-open “Saturday Night Live,” which is not exactly forfeiting fair renown; indeed it only lends credence to Santos’ deeply held belief that he is a cultural icon.
Santos may seem like the butt of jokes now, but if we’re not careful, the joke will be on us.
A movie about former Rep. George Santos helmed by ‘Succession’ and ‘Veep’ executive producer Frank Rich is in the works at HBO Films.
Eight years of Donald Trump have proved, if nothing else, that if a con man believes it, a con man can be it. Especially if he is granted a ton of televised attention. Punchline one day, president the next. All it takes is enough screen time to build an audience.
So if we must contemplate the future of George Santos, why not lean into Scott’s admonition that a man with no thought for his country should simply return “to the vile dust from which he sprung / unwept, unhonored and unsung”?
Instead of, you know, being the subject of countless mirth-making hot takes, including an upcoming HBO adaptation of Mark Chiusano’s book, “The Fabulist: The Lying, Hustling, Grifting, Stealing, and Very American Legend of George Santos.” (Santos, for his part, isn’t a fan of the idea, blasting the project in an interview with TMZ published Tuesday.)
It promises to follow “the Gatsby-esque journey of a man from nowhere who exploited the system, waged war on truth and swindled one of the wealthiest districts in the country to achieve his American Dream.”
Package it that way, and it sounds almost cool.
Even if the actual sound you’re hearing is F. Scott Fitzgerald rolling in his grave. Poor old Jay Gatsby made his money bootlegging, bought a fancy house to impress his ex and wound up dead, accused of a crime he did not commit.
The tragedy of Gatsby was that he longed for something that was not worth having, but at least, you know, he had a goal.
As far as I can tell, the only goal George Santos had was, and is, notoriety. Which he achieved by lying, cheating and allegedly stealing his way into public office in so flagrant a fashion that even those congressional colleagues who attempted to undermine the results of the fair and legal 2020 election thought Santos was bad for business.
But make it “Gatsby-like” and suddenly everything’s all Leonardo DiCaprio and Baz Luhrmann. Use words like “exploited the system” and you could be describing a rakish con man or a revolutionary.
The New York Republican is entitled to be presumed innocent until proven guilty in court. But different standards apply to the privilege of holding public office.
I begrudge no person their chance to jump on a torn-from-the-headlines tale and turn it into a hot take, comedic bit or darkly satiric statement on whatever. This culture has a singular soft spot for grifters and con artists and a long history of celebrating them in film and television — who doesn’t love ”Paper Moon,” “The Sting,” “American Hustle,” “White Collar,” “Better Call Saul,” etc., etc.
But it might be time for a collective reconsideration of that fondness. Especially since the last con man many Americans took into their hearts launched a bloody attack on the nation’s Capitol and continues to pose a real and deadly threat to American democracy.
Sure, it’s fun to watch some rumpled underdog or sleek fast-talker take on a flawed system; it’s less fun when that system turns out to be filled with regular folks — voters, donors, people in need of actual assistance — who hand over their money and faith in the misguided belief that all politicians lie and, more important, that all lies are equally damaging.
Just as it’s entertaining to watch people who once misused great influence and power singing or dancing for their supper on some reality show and less fun when those people use those platforms to return to power.
We can no longer fool ourselves into believing that “Dancing With the Stars” or even Cameo is the modern equivalent of the stocks. It’s not. Television breeds fondness — just ask Norman Lear, who could not believe his racist, antisemitic, sexist Archie Bunker became such a cultural touchstone. Put at the center of the narrative, even the most dastardly villain becomes someone audiences love to hate; keep them there long enough and the hate falls away.
Especially in a culture already far too quick to engage in a round of political whataboutism rather than engage with individual accusations or damning revelations. Just as any three-card monte con artist depends on a crowd salted with shills, political grifters use the diversionary tactics of red/blue divisions — our guy may be bad, but your guy is worse. Meanwhile, the cards flicker past and people caught up in the moment get fleeced.
Let Santos be a cautionary tale for the various donors, organizations and media platforms that took him at his word, and for the voters who ignored those red flags the media did hoist. But keep in mind the power of narrative: Repeat it too often, even in jest, and it becomes myth.
At this point, we should be less concerned about why Santos did what he did, or even how, than in figuring out a way to combat the con. Again. He is not the first bare-faced liar any of us have met, and he can’t be an icon unless we make him one.
There’s a reason Walter Scott’s words have lived on for two centuries. Becoming “unwept, unhonored and unsung” really is the best way to deal with people who only care about themselves.
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