EAST COAST/WEST COAST CLICKBAIT

 These days, it's easy to hate both celebrities and the press. Sometimes, the two collide like atoms forming a potentially hazardous gas.

Wanted: For shooting his mouth
off in the first degree.

Let's take the press first. Here in New York a few days ago, a 28 year-old woman was fatally hit by a vehicle after falling off her bike at the corner of East 85th Street and Madison Avenue. So what was the headline on the Upper East Side e-newsletter yesterday? Woody Allen Helped Defeat UES Bike Lane Where Woman Was Killed. 

Oh, brother.  You'd have to plow through the piece to the very end to discover that the vehicle was a tractor-trailer not allowed in any of the New York boroughs. And you'd have to go back a few days earlier to read that the biker was going the wrong way. 

But who's the villain? A geriatric movie maker who, six years ago, was only one of many "influential locals" (to quote the article) to successfully object to the city putting in bike lanes on several Upper East Side streets, including 85th.

The It's-Woody's-Fault argument doesn't hold water because even if a lane had been on 85th, the biker still would have been going the wrong way and the truck still would have been where it wasn't supposed to have been. Movies like Magic in the Moonlight, Whatever Works, Scoop,  and a couple dozen more in the last three decades are bad enough. There's no point in accusing Allen of  manslaughter (as Mia and Ronan Farrow probably are doing right now. In fact, they probably encouraged the writer of the piece to bring it up.) 

You know what is bad enough, though? A clueless, 24 year-old starlet who believes she has it tough. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, meet Sydney Sweeney. 

What's that you say? You've never heard of her? In fact, with that name you might have mistaken her for a guy? Her grandparents wouldn't, since they told her she "has the best the tits in Hollywood". Aww, thanks granny and gramps!

Sweeney is the star of the HBO series Euphoria, which you likely haven't heard of either. I would guess, however, that once you read about her life of hell, you'll want to forget her immediately. From an interview given from her three-million-dollar Beverly Hills mansion to The Hollywood Reporter: 

“If I wanted to take a six-month break, I don’t have income to cover that. They don’t pay actors like they used to, and with streamers, you no longer get residuals. The established stars still get paid, but I have to give 5 percent to my lawyer, 10 percent to my agents, 3 percent or something like that to my business manager. I have to pay my publicist every month, and that’s more than my mortgage. If I just acted, I wouldn’t be able to afford my life in LA. I take deals because I have to.”

OK. Why are you such an ungrateful, 
oblivious asshole?

Holy Tin Ear! I haven't seen this kind of jaded sense of entitlement from a young actor since Freddie Prinze, Jr. whined about how long it took him to land his first movie. He was 20 at the time.

Perhaps the best part of Sweeney's interview is when she whimpers, "I don't have anyone I can turn to, to pay my bills or call for help." 

Call for help? Her family moved to L.A. when she was 13 so she could pursue her showbiz dreams. Living in a motel (Sydney and mom sharing a bed, dad and brother a couch) eventually led to the parents divorcing. Syd isn't the one who needs help

As for paying the bills, Sweeney earned $350,000 for season two of Euphoria, and is estimated to be worth $4,000,000, thanks to 51 credits to her name in the last six years. Can't take six months off? Good Lord, how many people would thank the gods for two weeks paid vacation. And if a three-million pad is a little pricey -- you think maybe, maybe, a $750,000 co-op would do the trick until the big bucks come in.

Syd, you wanna save some dough? Fire your publicist. The last thing you need now is any more publicity. 

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