Kevin Spacey's arrogant comeback is a gut-punch for survivors like me

Kevin Spacey, who was cast off by Hollywood after sexual misconduct allegations in 2018, is back.

Not in some quiet, repentant indie drama filmed in the backwoods on a shoestring budget. No, he strutted into a Cannes-adjacent event, hoisting a lifetime achievement award like a trophy he earned in good faith, and delivering a self-righteous sermon about being the victim of a witch hunt. And here’s the rub. Spacey says he’s "not bitter."

Really? How obtuse and self-absorbed can you possibly be?

And in case the universe wasn’t already upside down enough because of you-know-who, Spacey now compares himself to the courageous creatives blacklisted during the McCarthy era. As if defending democracy is somehow equivalent to dodging dozens of sexual misconduct allegations.

I repeat, how obtuse and self-absorbed can you possibly be?

Kevin Spacey was not — not — blacklisted because he was courageous. That’s laughable. He wasn’t silenced. He faced serious accusations. And the fact that he is returning not with humility or reflection but with chest-thumping arrogance is a bitter pill to swallow for the many he allegedly stepped on, harassed, or deeply wounded and for all survivors of abuse, like myself.

I’ve written about being abused by a priest when I was a child. It left scars that I still carry, and I can tell you unequivocally: The pain doesn’t vanish just because your abuser walks free. That’s why I believe Anthony Rapp when he says Spacey climbed on top of him when Rapp was 14. I also believe the other young men who’ve spoken out. Because I know what it feels like to be violated, then gaslit, then forced to watch your abuser continue on like nothing ever happened.

And I also know that for them, like me, there’s absolutely no reason to lie about what happened.

Kevin Spacey has never convincingly apologized. His one feeble attempt at contrition, made in the same breath as coming out as gay, which insulted and deflected in equal measure, was later recanted, likely under legal advice.

When Rapp sued, Spacey took the stand and cried, claiming the apology wasn’t real. What kind of man vacillates between remorse and defense like he’s reading from an ever-changing script? A man trying to save his career, not his soul.

Last year’s Spacey Unmasked documentary shows a pattern in the behavior he’s accused of. To me, all are believable.

Recently, actor Guy Pearce said Spacey made him uncomfortable on the L.A. Confidential set 28 years ago, a claim that Spacey promptly rebutted. With every new account, there’s a spin. A convenient amnesia. A "context" offered as a shield.

Yet somehow, here he is again. He's now racking up "lifetime achievement awards." This week Spacey accepted the “Maximo Award for Excellence" award and made cryptic speeches about Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman. And then last month, he accepted another “lifetime achievement award” from a separate organization outside the official Cannes Film festival. Even though it was outside of Cannes, it was enough of an endorsement by an industry that never tires of handing out accolades.

Surely, Spacey was awarded not for a lifetime of moral courage or quiet reflection but for surviving. He stood at that podium not as a humbled man grateful for a second chance but as a defiant gladiator insisting he never did anything wrong.

Let’s talk about second chances, because I believe in them. I believe people can grow. I believe that real change can come from sincere accountability. But there’s a difference between a comeback and a correction.

A second chance isn’t a right but rather a responsibility. If you want the world to forgive you, then you have to emote at least some culpability. You have to apologize to the people you hurt. You have to listen to them, understand what you did, and vow to never do it again.

Does Spacey’s situation reflect a double standard? Many male actors have seen their careers destroyed by allegations or admissions of sexual misconduct, usually involving women. Louis C.K., James Franco, Armie Hammer, Chris Noth, and more have seen projects yanked, deals canceled, roles vanish.

Others have returned with specials and new deals. Meanwhile, Spacey, who stands accused primarily of abusing younger men, has been treated with a strange, quieter ambivalence.

Is it because our culture still hasn’t figured out how to talk about allegations of men abusing men? Is it because some still believe boys “should be able to handle it”? Abuse is abuse. Trauma is trauma.

At times when I started to tell my story about the priest who abused me, I had guys say to me, “Well, you’re gay, I’m sure you enjoyed it.” It’s just laughed off, almost as “gay boys will be gay boys.” Well, that’s not even close to being funny.

And let’s not pretend race, gender, or class aren’t in play here. Spacey is the embodiment of white male privilege. His wealth, fame, and whiteness have served as a cushion every time consequences came knocking.

A Black actor, a queer woman, a trans artist, or virtually anyone without the armor of systemic power would have been exiled permanently for even a fraction of what Spacey’s been accused of.

Now, let’s remember: Some of the actors who accused Spacey never got a second chance. If you watch the documentary, some walked away from the industry entirely after coming forward with their allegations.

Yes, the courts have acquitted Spacey so far (another claim against him is pending in the U.K.). But legality is not the same as morality. As TheGuardiannoted in its review of the documentary, the issue isn’t whether every accusation is provable beyond a reasonable doubt. No, it’s whether we’re willing to look at the full picture and ask what kind of man we’re elevating again.

So let me say this: If Kevin Spacey wants to return, he should start with silence. He should listen. Then he should apologize.

Until that day, I’ll feel the same disgust I feel every time I see Harvey Weinstein's mug in a courtroom with what seems like nonstop coverage of his never-ending trials. It's another punch to the gut for survivors like me, who never got over what happened to them at the hands of someone who only gave a rat’s ass about himself.

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