Amanda White also claimed that Affleck retaliated against her complaints. After White objected to Affleck’s behavior, she said he failed to pay her agreed upon producer’s fee. According to White, he also failed to pay her a “living wage” while she was working on the mockumentary. At the time of her complaint filing, White maintained that she had not been paid for any of the work she did on the film—a project she said she toiled on for over three months.
Overall, these complaints paint a decidedly different picture of Casey Affleck, leading man. In addition to allegedly harassing the women he employed, Affleck is said to have actively enjoyed putting them in uncomfortable positions, refusing to step in as the working environment on the project became increasingly hostile. In the words of White’s thorough and deeply damning complaint, “Affleck encouraged and participated in the harassment of Plaintiff and Gorka for his own twisted gratification.” Furthermore, both women insist that Affleck’s treatment only worsened when and if they objected—a campaign of retaliation and verbal abuse that ultimately culminated in his refusal to honor their contracts.
When his former employees first sued, Affleck vehemently denied their allegations, going so far as threatening to countersue. However, Affleck eventually agreed to mediation, during which a settlement was reached. While no details of any financial settlement were released to the public, it was reported that both women would receive due credit for their work on Affleck’s passion project.
As glowing writeups of Manchester by the Sea continue to roll in, Casey Affleck’s alleged crimes merit more than an asterisk. Coverage of these types of cases often seems to operate according to an invisible scale. At first, unsavory allegations are cast aside in the service of palatable profiles. We subscribe to easy narratives; reporters don’t want to irritate stars with unpleasant questions, and fans don’t want to complicate their adoration with dark details. At a certain point, there is no longer an easy way out. The balance of public opinion shifts toward guilt, or, at the very least, suspicion. That’s why, after years of preserving Bill Cosby’s Teflon reputation, journalists suddenly stopped writing off the dozens of allegations that had been brought against the comedian. It’s why Nate Parker’s controversial past—which, although underreported, had never been a secret—suddenly became headline news in the weeks leading up to the release of The Birth of a Nation.
The Parker parallel is an important one. Of course, Parker was accused of a different, more serious crime—raping a female college student. Parker was acquitted, while Affleck settled. Then there’s the fact that Nate Parker is a black man. Like Affleck, the actor and director had been fast-tracked for critical acclaim and stardom. Considering the fact that Parker’s career has taken a fatal hit, we have to ask why Affleck’s history continues to be hidden paragraphs deep, or swept under the rug entirely. We can’t re-try either of these cases; given the facts that we have, journalists and filmgoers can reach their own conclusions of guilt or innocence. But readers should be given this opportunity. There’s no reason why the details of White and Gorka’s suits—which are available online here and here—shouldn’t be added as a crucial caveat in fawning profiles and glowing reviews.
These types of allegations haven’t always acted as insurmountable obstacles to continued Hollywood success. Audiences have historically stood by men who have been accused of harassment, sexual assault, and abuse. But by selectively choosing which stars to put through the ringer, the media becomes complicit in this cycle of easy forgiveness and celebrity-related amnesia.
Overall, these complaints paint a decidedly different picture of Casey Affleck, leading man. In addition to allegedly harassing the women he employed, Affleck is said to have actively enjoyed putting them in uncomfortable positions, refusing to step in as the working environment on the project became increasingly hostile. In the words of White’s thorough and deeply damning complaint, “Affleck encouraged and participated in the harassment of Plaintiff and Gorka for his own twisted gratification.” Furthermore, both women insist that Affleck’s treatment only worsened when and if they objected—a campaign of retaliation and verbal abuse that ultimately culminated in his refusal to honor their contracts.
When his former employees first sued, Affleck vehemently denied their allegations, going so far as threatening to countersue. However, Affleck eventually agreed to mediation, during which a settlement was reached. While no details of any financial settlement were released to the public, it was reported that both women would receive due credit for their work on Affleck’s passion project.
As glowing writeups of Manchester by the Sea continue to roll in, Casey Affleck’s alleged crimes merit more than an asterisk. Coverage of these types of cases often seems to operate according to an invisible scale. At first, unsavory allegations are cast aside in the service of palatable profiles. We subscribe to easy narratives; reporters don’t want to irritate stars with unpleasant questions, and fans don’t want to complicate their adoration with dark details. At a certain point, there is no longer an easy way out. The balance of public opinion shifts toward guilt, or, at the very least, suspicion. That’s why, after years of preserving Bill Cosby’s Teflon reputation, journalists suddenly stopped writing off the dozens of allegations that had been brought against the comedian. It’s why Nate Parker’s controversial past—which, although underreported, had never been a secret—suddenly became headline news in the weeks leading up to the release of The Birth of a Nation.
The Parker parallel is an important one. Of course, Parker was accused of a different, more serious crime—raping a female college student. Parker was acquitted, while Affleck settled. Then there’s the fact that Nate Parker is a black man. Like Affleck, the actor and director had been fast-tracked for critical acclaim and stardom. Considering the fact that Parker’s career has taken a fatal hit, we have to ask why Affleck’s history continues to be hidden paragraphs deep, or swept under the rug entirely. We can’t re-try either of these cases; given the facts that we have, journalists and filmgoers can reach their own conclusions of guilt or innocence. But readers should be given this opportunity. There’s no reason why the details of White and Gorka’s suits—which are available online here and here—shouldn’t be added as a crucial caveat in fawning profiles and glowing reviews.
These types of allegations haven’t always acted as insurmountable obstacles to continued Hollywood success. Audiences have historically stood by men who have been accused of harassment, sexual assault, and abuse. But by selectively choosing which stars to put through the ringer, the media becomes complicit in this cycle of easy forgiveness and celebrity-related amnesia.