Portrait of Johnny
by the amazing Cass Bird,
appearing in the August 16, 2010, issue
of New York Magazine.
Dear Amy Larocca:
I just finished reading your NYMag piece on Johnny Weir. What a shame that apparently you didn't actually get to meet Mr. Weir during the course of writing about him. Or that NYMag has fallen on such hard times in this difficult economy that they've had to let all their fact-checkers go. Perhaps I can help you with both of these issues, having had the pleasure of Mr. Weir's company multiple times and also having the gutsy wherewithal to avail myself of intricate and complicated fact-checking devices such as Google, the NBC Olympics site, and those two time-honored journalism favorites: Context, and the follow-up question.
Let's start with these:
"... Johnny Weir Be Good, Weir’s Sundance Channel reality show ..." The name of his reality series is Be Good Johnny Weir. Yep, that's a tough one. You have to type in "Sundance Channel Johnny Weir" and boom. There it is: The first search result. I can see how you might have been stymied by that multi-step process, but I'm charmed that you valiantly fought through it and have now updated the online version of your article with the correct title.
"He’s drinking a tumbler of Champagne into which he’s dumped some other kind of pale-yellow liquor. 'My favorite,' he says, peering coyly through his thick eyelashes." Hmmm. You only know that it was pale yellow, so how do you know it was liquor? It might have been peach juice added to the Champagne to create his fav drink, the Bellini. Of course, it's much more fun to darkly intimate that since deciding to take a year off from competing, he's become a hard-core drinker who's busily mixing various kinds of alcohol together to go with his chain smoking of menthol cigarettes while shrieking "Cocaine!" intermittently like he has Narcotics Tourette's--without checking to see if your negative assumption is true by simply asking him, "Hey, what's that stuff?" Hello. It's an interview. You're allowed to ask questions. Unless, of course, you're afraid the answers might interfere with your bias.
"[Lysacek's] jumps were objectively far stronger than Weir’s." Objectively according to whom? Based on what? Johnny outscored Evan in the free skate on the double axel, the triple axel, the triple axel-double toeloop combination, and the triple lutz-triple toeloop combination. In addition, the NBC Olympics website used three of Johnny's jumps to illustrate what those jumps should look like when well-executed; they chose only one of Evan's. Follow-up questions: Don't you know that? Are you stupid?
"He taunts Lysacek (he recently called him a 'slore,' which is half-slut, half-whore)." Bravo! Excellent use of complete lack of context, the mainstay for the journalist who doesn't want to bother to research her subject properly but has already formed strong opinions anyway and certainly wouldn't want to let facts or background info get in her way. Here's the context: Johnny blurted that out when he was blindsided on the Wendy Williams Show with comments that Evan had made the day before, in which Evan contended that Johnny--a three-time U.S. national champion, two-time Olympian, and World medalist--simply lacked the talent to be invited to join Stars on Ice.
The correct spelling of "aids" as in the disease needing a cure to which Mr. Weir donates considerable time and effort through multiple charities is "AIDS." Also: It's "GLAAD," not "glaad." Bonus points for correcting these only hours and hours after the article first hit the Internet.
"Weir will be nearly 29 when the next Olympics [Sochi 2014] rolls around ... " No. Mr. Weir will be nearly 30 at the time of the Winter Olympics that year. Oh, I know. Math is hard. Just ask the USFSA. They still think that 1 brilliant short program + 1 soul-searingly magnificent free skate = 6th place.
"In quite a few episodes [of BGJW], Weir and Paris (who was his roommate at the time) cavort in their tiny underpants alongside Weir’s 'Balenciaga tree ...' " Um, no. I don't know of "quite a few" episodes that fit that description. Yes, they're in a bathtub once. Yes, Johnny rolls on top of Paris on a bed while they're shirtless. But even if there were "quite a few" tiny-underpants episodes: So what? What's your point? Do gorgeous underwear-clad men standing near Balenciaga bags upset you in some way? [As fan Lauren Ashbaugh would say, "Paging Dr. Freud ... "]
WTF is a "two-layered grin"? And why the sarcasm? Why is it wrong that a man who has been photographed nonstop for nearly a decade knows how "to angle his chin" or to "look up at the camera"? Would you prefer that he let his eyes go two separate ways, or simply appear kerfuffled that someone wants to take his picture? Oh, and BTW: Whose photos do you have in your apartment? I would bet that they might actually be of, say, you and your friends at various places in which you've been together.
But your factual missteps and odd phrasing choices aren't even the biggest problem with the article. It's your tone, dripping with derision and condescension and snark. About everyone and everything. Stephanie Handler is "baffled." Joey Camasta is wearing a shirt "against which his stomach strains." Tara Modlin's apartment has "pink chiffon stuck up on the windows, some decorations welded into place with a hot-glue gun." Tara's roommate is clueless, "looking for help with her hair, her eye makeup, her what-to-wear." Mr. Weir is "writing a book ... which ... he hopes [will] sell lots and lots and lots of copies." (Because most people write books hoping that no one will buy them?) "Why [Mr. Weir] thinks he only came in sixth place ... " (as if no one else shares the view that he was terribly, heartbreakingly underscored).
And then, of course, there's your incessant harping on Mr. Weir's sexuality. What a tired subject. It's unfortunate that with the amount of access you apparently were granted, you couldn't find something new and fresh to bring to your readers. Instead, all you could do was repeat the same overused story lines:
Mr. Weir is "gayer than any public figure ever."
Mr. Lysacek "seems as straight as a skater can be."
"Weir [is] all the more certain of his membership in the fraternity, or sorority, or whatever orientation he may eventually choose, of American celebrity."
Although you do add your own quiet venom: Mr. Weir really has no talents that can translate into a sustainable career. Figure-skating fans are pitiable lovers of plush toys and collectible figurines. And Mr. Weir himself "looks like a plush toy"--thus apparently explaining his appeal to his fans. Because it couldn't possibly be based on the unique artistic genius, grace, and elegance he brings to the ice, or the intriguing complexity of his views on many subjects, or his wonderfully sly wit and willingness to say what he thinks. Or the kindness, patience, and care he shows to his fans.
But what I dislike most about the article--and there's plenty from which to choose--is the false contrast you draw between the drinking / smoking / cocaine-referencing / "gurl"-shouting / over-sexualized / crude / non-bankable / talentless Mr. Weir of the beginning of the article, and the Mr. Weir at the conclusion, whose "cheeks are pink and clear. His eyes are round. He looks like a plush toy, or something from a comic book specifically designed to register 'cute.' He is sweet and friendly and earnest. He doesn’t shout 'gurl' even once." Your between-the-lines point is that in your opinion, the real Mr. Weir is the first one, and the second one is manufactured--"specifically designed"--and thus you seek to undercut what he says at the conclusion, about working and training hard and hoping to keep his fans happy.
You're wrong on so many levels that I can't evan.
But there are two things really right with this article, none of which have anything to do with you:
(1) All the quotes from Mr. Weir are wonderful. So as soon as I finish writing this, I'm going to create my own copy of your article in which I cut out everything except what he says. Then it will be brilliant.
(2) The photos are fabulous. Bless you, Cass Bird. Shirtcocking FTW.
And so, my dear Amy, may I say again that I'm so sorry you completely missed out on making the acquaintance of the Johnny Weir that millions around the world know and love. Should you ever be in a position to interview him again, please let me know. I'd be happy to handle it for you, guuuurrrrllll.
Sincerely,
Binky
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Coming soon: More in the series
of translated interviews from the Mook Book
courtesy of the fabulous Akiko Nakata!
copyright 2010 / Binky and the Misfit Mimes / Lynn V. Ingogly / all rights reserved
Coming soon: More in the series
of translated interviews from the Mook Book
courtesy of the fabulous Akiko Nakata!
copyright 2010 / Binky and the Misfit Mimes / Lynn V. Ingogly / all rights reserved
