Over the years, I may have said one or two nasty things about the Jack Sparrow actor, but it was all just an act
I have always known that Johnny Depp is a great man, even though I once wrote a scathing review of Murder on the Orient Express, in which I claimed that, given the opportunity, any member of the general public would gladly kill him in broad daylight. I also think Depp is incredibly handsome and charming, contrary to me previously suggesting it would be unbearable to be in an enclosed space with him and put up with his wet dog smell.
When Depp was first accused of domestic abuse, I wasn’t one to jump on the bandwagon and demonise him, nor did the thought of another Pirates of the Caribbean film make me feel physically sick. No, I always knew he was innocent, and I can even recall punching the air in delight when it was first announced that he would be playing a bleached evil wizard in that awful Harry Potter spin-off.
Though I thought his performances in the first two films of that series were tremendous, I couldn’t outwardly express my admiration as I would have risked looking like a misogynist or an advocate for domestic abuse – and I’m neither of those things.
Instead, I pointed and laughed at the screen. I even booed a little bit and agreed with the short-haired woman next to me that he was a vile, rat meat kebab of a man. I didn’t believe a word I was saying, of course. Beneath the surface I was comfortable in the knowledge that Depp was (and still is) a brilliant, caring man, who in no way looks like he’s permanently drenched in chip fat.
Now, as fans rightfully lobby to bring him back to the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise, and the perpetuators of cancel culture retreat to the shameful dark corners of social media, I can hold my head up high and affirm that I always loved and believed in Johnny Depp, despite everything I previously said about him suggesting otherwise.