The Ben Affleck Profile Is Super Sad—But It Also Feels Pretty Manipulative

It’s no secret that Ben Affleck has had a tough few years. After becoming one half of America’s golden couple, the actor went through a super public divorce, some box office flops and several stints in rehab (as well as one very publicized relapse). It was a difficult time in his life; something Affleck unabashedly opens up about in a new profile from the New York Times. “Ben Affleck Tried To Drink Away the Pain. Now He’s Trying Honesty,” the article boldly declares. And the actor was *extremely* honest, opening up about his divorce (which he calls “the biggest regret of [his] life”), his struggle with sobriety and being  vulnerable.

Then on February 20, Affleck—who is currently promoting his film The Way Back—opened up to Diane Sawyer on Good Morning America; and in a segment shown after his pre-taped interview with Sawyer, allowed her to read a note he’d written to ex-wife Jennifer Garner. “What I want to say publicly and privately is, ‘Thank you. Thank you for being thoughtful, considerate, responsible, and a great mom and person,’ ” Sawyer read.

Which is very sweet; but also, I can’t help but feel a little put off by Affleck’s recent media rounds. Mostly, because it’s super reminiscent of *another* formerly fallen, recently reborn man: Brad Pitt. In May 2017, GQ profiled the actor post-split from Angelina Jolie. He was down in the dumps, he was sleeping in his friend’s studio, he was making pottery and, in the profile, talks “divorce, quitting drinking and becoming a better man.” It seems pretty darn similar to Affleck’s journey.

And I have to ask: Is this “sad man” narrative the new trend for fallen male celebs? Because, TBH, I’m already over it.

First of all, what Brad and Ben deal with is important to acknowledge

Off the bat, it’s extremely important to emphasize that what Pitt and Affleck share in their profiles and respective media tours shouldn’t be belittled. Both actors have opened up about experiencing issues with addiction, and with alcohol in particular. Affleck, specifically, talks in the recent NYT profile about the fact that addiction runs in his family, telling the newspaper that he saw his dad drunk almost every day, and acknowledges that the legacy of alcoholism and mental health illness in his fam “is quite powerful and sometimes hard to shake.”

Addiction is an illness and both men are incredibly strong for acknowledging their relationship with alcohol and working towards sobriety (which, as Affleck says, is an ongoing battle).

But these profiles kind of absolve the hurt they’ve caused

Still, the way these men are trying to redeem themselves rubs me the wrong way; specifically, it’s the way that their missteps are seemingly glossed over—or at least the repercussions of them are—in these articles and TV appearances. While it’s very nice that Affleck is apologizing to Garner publicly (and one would hope he’s done so privately), these media stints do little to account for the harm that has been done because of these men’s actions. In a March 2016 article for Vanity Fair—shortly after Affleck and Garner announced their separation—Garner opened up about their relationship, telling the magazine that while Affleck was the love of her life, he’s also a complicated guy. “I always say, ‘When his sun shines on you, you feel it,’" Garner told the mag. “But when the sun is shining elsewhere, it’s cold. He can cast quite a shadow.”

In Pitt’s case, yes there is the infamous Brad-Jen-Angelina love triangle and the fact that Pitt most likely, definitely, 100% cheated on then-wife Jennifer Aniston with co-star and eventual wife Angelina Jolie, but the bigger isue has to be whatever went down between him, now ex Jolie and his adopted son Maddox Jolie-Pitt. ICYMI, in September 2016, some sort of altercation occurred between Pitt and his son onboard a private jet. While the details are hazy, whatever happened not only prompted a child abuse investigation by the Los Angeles County Department of Children and Family Services (Pitt was later cleared by the department) and an investigation by the FBI (also later closed), but prompted Jolie to file for divorce from Pitt. So it’s probably safe to say that whatever happened was a big deal. While Pitt does concede in the aforementioned GQ profile that his lot in life at the time was “self-inflicted,” there’s little in the way of actual repentance or acknowledgement for how his actions affected anyone else but him. Flash forward to Pitt’s 2020 awards season sweep, which featured many acceptance speeches joking about not getting along with your wife (an obvious dig at Jolie), and it’s not hard to feel that he doesn’t entirely understand—or want to fess up to—the weight of his actions.

And while it’s important to consider that both Pitt and Affleck were dealing with alcohol dependencies, which is sad and are factors that contributed to their behaviour, it doesn’t entirely wipe away the fact that said behaviour occurred—and harmed people in the process—and it doesn’t entirely absolve them of wrongdoing.

Also, these attempts at redemption feel emotionally manipulative

If you forgot while reading these narratives that any of these aforementioned instances of bad behaviour had occurred, you wouldn’t be alone. I too, read both pieces and—along with the intoxication of Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston’s recent hand grab—was sucked in to feelings of forgiveness and empathy towards these two leading men—and it’s also why I was left feeling kind of manipulated.

Everything about these profiles, from the focus of the writing itself (embattled man rises from the proverbial ashes like the multi-coloured phoenix on Affleck’s back) to the way these stars were photographed (that soft lighting, plucked starling look), portrays them as the victims—whether it’s of their wives, their own demons or their circumstances. It’s hard to hold someone accountable or continue to harbour feelings of animosity towards someone who looks as down-trodden and self-reflective as Pitt does, posing amongst the reeds at Everglades National Park, hands held to his forehead in prayer. For some reason we love a mega-famous man who appears humble and repentant! Maybe it’s for the same reason that we love seeing Brad Pitt wearing a name tag at a pre-Oscars luncheon—it humanizes them. But it feels like the powers behind Affleck and Pitt’s careers know this and are capitalizing on it.

Honestly, I find it hard to feel super sorry for them—or to buy into what is obviously trying to be sold—considering the fact that they are literally Brad Pitt and Ben Affleck: two mega famous, rich, white men. (Quick Q: Would a non-white actor who royally messed up get the same treatment?) And, factor in the teeny tiny fact that Affleck’s apology tour comes during promo for his latest film—it’s hard not to feel like there’s a very strong calculated motive behind these narratives.

And they highlight that it really doesn’t matter what these men do

But, mostly, these sad man narratives irk me because their existence (and our reactions) highlight something we all inherently know to be true: It doesn’t really matter what famous men do—or whether or not we cancel them—because they’ll ultimately be absolved and make a comeback. We’ve seen it recently with Pitt’s own awards season popularity, and—to a more serious degree—have seen it with the continued popularity and support for über problematic (and predatory) men like Harvey Weinstein who, though now on trial for his horrific sexual assault allegations, was allowed into comedy spaces chock full of young women up until months before his trial. Which is honestly egregious.

Powerful men (and specifically, powerful white men) will continue to be powerful, no matter how bad or harmful their behaviour is. And, let’s be honest: I’m sure people like Affleck and Pitt know this. They don’t even need to ask for repentance, because history shows that they should expect it; which only makes these redemption narratives even more infuriating in their lack of necessity.

So, good on you, Affleck; but I’ll be sitting over here waiting for the next sad man apology tour narrative to emerge. My money’s on Justin Timberlake.