Opinions

Dear Sean Penn, please put your pen down now

In print | February 26, 2009

When I began this article, it was 8:30pm on Sunday evening — meaning, of course, that I was missing the beginning of the 2008 Academy Awards. This was lamentable, not least because I love movies, but also because the Willets RAs threw an “Oscar-viewing party” in Mephistos and I missed out on most of the food.

I was fortunate enough to make it for the last hour, though, so I saw Sean Penn win Best Actor for his portrayal of Harvey Milk in “Milk” (which, alas, I haven’t seen). For me, his victory is tinged with regret. I can’t object to his acting talents — Penn is the type of actor who can wholeheartedly invest himself in the passions of a character. Unfortunately, he can wholeheartedly invest himself in other passions as well, and it was because of these passions that I was rooting against him.

Like other actors and celebrities, Penn dabbles in politics. This alone might draw criticism from some, who would make the valid point that a ubiquitous public image shouldn’t translate into a political soapbox (criticisms of Jane Fonda come to mind). But I don’t resent Penn for this; on the contrary, I feel that cultural icons have a civic responsibility to use their influence and image to change the status quo. Don’t we feel that Swarthmore, as an institution commanding influence and image, has this same responsibility?

The problem is not that Penn disseminates his politics in the public realm; a Dave Matthews or an Eddie Vedder does this every time they give the middle finger to the Bush administration before walking offstage — and we love it. The problem is that Penn’s advocacy sometimes claims to be something more: unbiased, professional journalism. Penn should keep in mind that, in submitting journalistic writing, he submits to the rules of the journalistic profession; yet it is when we judge him by these standards that he is exposed as, at best, someone unworthy of the title, and at worst, a dishonest pamphleteer.

Over winter break I picked up a copy of The Nation at my local Borders and, leafing through, discovered that Penn had written the feature story: a lengthy interview with Venezuela’s Hugo Chávez and Cuba’s Raúl Castro. “Conversations with Chávez and Castro” looked interesting, but not urgently so, until I saw that Penn’s travel party included Christopher Hitchens, writer and pundit extraordinaire. First of all, Hitchens is a personal favorite. Second, as his readers might know, rarely does “the Hitch” offer audiences a dry moment. It was enough to get me to sit down.

The trip begins cheerily enough. Penn et al. spend four days touring Venezuela with President Hugo Chávez, who is described in quite affable terms as a courageous, Latin American freedom fighter:
“Conversation among the four of us continues on buses, at rallies and at dedications throughout Isla Margarita. Chávez is tireless. He addresses every new group for hours on end under a blistering sun. At most he’ll sleep four hours at night, spending the first hour of his morning reading news of the world. And once he’s on his feet, he’s unstoppable despite heat, humidity and the two layers of revolutionary red shirts he wears.”

Maybe Penn’s loving portrayal is pure character-sketch, nothing political.

The trip proceeds to Havana, where the group has plans to meet with Raúl Castro, who had just taken over his brother’s helm. Upon landing, Penn is greeted by a company of “old friends” in the Cuban movie business. As they drive through the streets of Havana, the actor’s penchant for pathos inspires florid descriptions:

“Cubans are a particularly warm and hospitable people. As our hosts took us around the city, I noticed that the number of American 1950s cars had diminished even in the few years since my last trip, giving way to smaller Russian designs. On a sweep by the invasive-looking US Interests Section on the Malecón, where waves breaking against the sea wall shower passing cars, I noticed something almost indescribable about the atmosphere in Cuba. It is the palpable presence of architectural and living human history on a small plot of land surrounded by water. Even the visitor feels the spirit of a culture that proclaims, in various ways, ‘This is our special place.’”

Notice that the US Interests Section is “invasive-looking”, presumably resembling a hunched, lecherous American politician with claws perched to violate the lush Cuban shoreline. The group moves on, from a tour at the Palace of Fine arts, to the Higher Institute of Arts, and finally to a government-sponsored dinner and meet-and-greet with prominent Cuban politicians and artists (the latter brought in specifically because Penn had praised their work at the Museums). In such distinguished company we can forgive Penn for his glossy portrait of the city, which is pretty much a great place, overflowing with artistic beauty, where people eat well and have a good time.

It is only Penn’s final “interview” with Raúl Castro that is really inexcusable. Late in the night, only hours before Penn’s party leaves Havana, Castro’s aides show up outside the hotel. They announce that, unfortunately, Raúl is only able to take one guest this evening: not the renowned thinker and journalist Christopher Hitchens, not the historian and academic Douglas Brinkley (who was along with the group), but Sean Penn, movie star. Shocked, even anguished that his friends cannot come along, he parts with them and spends the next 7 hours interviewing, quipping, drinking with and altogether worshipping the Cuban leader.

I won’t get into the details of the interview; suffice to say it was replete with more “character-sketching” about Castro’s “warmth”, “wit” and the like. The truly amazing thing is that Penn never crawls off Castro’s lap long enough to deliberate on why, exactly, he is in the room. Maybe the former military general went all giddy with the prospect of meeting a Hollywood star. Maybe the seasoned politician figured that an interview with Penn would dig deeper intellectually than one carried out by either of his compatriots. Or, maybe (read: more likely) Castro’s people did a quick Google search, and found that Penn was the least likely of the three to print anything remotely resembling serious journalistic criticism.

If Penn’s victory for Milk does anything to erode homosexual prejudices or move towards gay legal equality, then I applaud his victory. In fact, I’ll applaud it just because, on purely aesthetic terms, it’s an amazing achievement. But Penn should stick to making his statements on celluloid, rather than in ink, and if he does take up his “pen” (get it?), let’s read him with a critical eye.

David is a first-year. You can reach him at dstern1@swarthmore.edu.