The Gloss has worn off, Ms. Johansson

Dear Scarlett,

It’s time you and I had a chat. As someone who stumbled out of a dingy cinema onto the Sydney streets in a state of disconnected wonder post Lost In Translation, I want you to believe I’m on your side. Really I am. I loved what you did with that character. I believed you. I loved the way you walked around your hotel room in your undies and scorned the ‘pretty’ girl for calling herself Evelyn Waugh. I’m also a Bill Murray fan, so imagine my joy at the two of you being paired up on screen. Granted, I’m not convinced about the final whisper scene, but forgetting that, you had me won.

From there I followed you and your bee stung lips to A Love Song for Bobby Long and felt satisfied with my loyalty. I'm happy to say it – you were good. In between film roles there was plenty of paparazzi tabloid fodder and women’s mag features to make me feel comfortable with my predilection for you. Comments about getting regular STD tests, the usual “I’m comfortable with my body”, and even the relief at the honest acknowledgment that you “believe in plastic surgery” (even though you’re comfortable with your body, but hey) made you stand out a bit from the crowd who were off swanning around without their knickers.



Yep, it’s fair to say I liked your style. On the red carpet I liked that you stuffed up. That sometimes you looked surprised at how the outfit ran when you actually walked out the front door, like ‘oops, those are my boobs? How did they get like that.’ It hasn’t been all awkward though, and sometimes you dazzled. I liked that too. You were more than the girl next door, but no Angelina either. Being in the middle had its appeal. I even forgave you for The Island.

But then it seems you went and got all typecast on me, and I’ll be damned if I can sit through another film where you play the sexy minx one more time. I just can’t. I know it worked in Matchpoint. By The Prestige, I was getting pretty tired of it, but was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. I mean, people always say ‘stick to what you’re good at’. I even got through Vicky Christina Barcelona (admittedly on the back of Penelope Cruz’s performance) without screaming at you on the screen. But then you went and played THE SAME CHARACTER – AGAIN – in He’s Just Not That Into You and I’m sorry to say, Scarlett, I just can’t do it anymore.

I hear you and Natalie Portman are close, perhaps you can ask her for pointers? Steering clear of Woody Allen for a minimum of five years would also be a good place to start. In the mean time, until you can find someone more interesting to play, I will consider this the end of a beautiful friendship.

---

P.S. This also means I’ll have to stop defending you for that Tom Waits covers album too, btw.