Opinions
Johnny Depp, Amber Heard and the deeply unsatisfying matter of re-litigating their trial
The series was panned by critics
On Aug. 16, Netflix released a three-part docuseries revisiting last summer’s televised civil litigation over allegations that Amber Heard had defamed ex-husband Johnny Depp by claiming to have survived sexual violence and domestic abuse during their four-year relationship.
Rather than offering anything new by way of insight or analysis from anyone with relevant qualifications or experience, each episode features clips from some of the online “creators” who turned their hot takes on the trial into a veritable cottage industry of amateur legal commentary and courtroom conspiracy theories, feeding the rapacious demand for anti-Heard and pro-Depp content. (As if to underscore the project’s unseriousness, these included a men’s rights YouTuber who wore a Deadpool mask and was surrounded by Spider-Man costumes.)
Worse still, “Depp v. Heard” director Emma Cooper fails not only to answer but also to even ask the obvious questions that have lingered since a verdict was returned more than 14 months ago by seven jurors in northern Virginia who were not sequestered as the case became, by far, the most popular topic on social media and online platforms.
At the same time, however, the episodes include footage of courtroom testimony that offer a glimpse, though incomplete, into some of the trial’s more salient and dispositive moments that I otherwise would never have seen (with neither the time nor the inclination, either last year or now, to follow 120+ hours of argument by the parties presented over the course of a seven-week trial.)
Do these scenes redeem the series? Hardly. But that does not mean they offer nothing of value, especially considering that while this was not the retelling of last summer’s events that we deserve, it remains the only one we’ve got. At least, for now.
Susan Sontag, in her 1977 collection of essays “On Photography,” proclaimed “The camera makes everyone a tourist in other people’s reality, and eventually in one’s own.”
In “Depp v. Heard,” the cameras facilitate a very specific kind of tourism that feels both exploitative and voyeuristic, because the reality in which we find ourselves trespassing is dark: the unraveling of a relationship between movie stars through patterns of dysfunction and abuse both familiar and alien, knowable and unknowable, like a city you have visited but never called home.
Especially when coupled with the more outrageous moments from trial that made headlines at the time – such as the debate over whether Heard defecated on Depp’s bed and blamed his teacup Yorkshire Terrier – there is a temptation to treat footage of testimony concerning the smashing of liquor bottles and hurling of wine glasses, the shoving and taunting and threats, even the physical and sexual violence, as though it were pure spectacle.
However, this would suggest, wrongly, that the painful realities of the actors’ relationship are so far removed from our lived experiences that we do not, cannot, or should not relate to them. As if a seven-week trial adjudicating the conflicts in our own intimate relationships or those involving the people we love would not turn up evidence of trouble and dysfunction, or worse.
Considering that we are primed to pick winners and losers and heroes and villains, perhaps it was unsurprising that incomplete and selectively edited footage from the case provided ample fodder for Instagram reels and TikTok videos that were created in the service of narratives that, most often, favored Depp and vilified Heard.
For me, witnessing these scenes in their proper context revealed a picture so much more complicated and, frankly, ugly that the prospect of framing the case in this manner seemed as preposterous as the idea that audiences leaving a production of “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf” should find themselves allied with either Martha or George.
To take just one example: From the witness stand, Heard recounted how she would often return home to their shared Los Angeles penthouse to find Depp nodding off in a chair because he had washed Roxicodone down with whiskey, or lying supine on the sofa fully unconscious with melted ice cream pooled in his lap. Worried about her husband’s apparent substance use disorder and unsure how best to help, the actress admitted she would sometimes take photos of him and share the pictures with a trusted friend.
Or, Depp’s attorney asked, was she just trying to humiliate him? Or, online commentators asked (often rhetorically), was this a calculated and premeditated move to collect evidence she would use against Depp in litigation or for purposes of extorting him?
As if these motives are mutually exclusive.
Having experienced the pain of watching loved ones spiraling in the throes of drug and alcohol addiction, I can tell you why I suspect Heard took the photos, but of course the reality is neither I nor anyone else – perhaps not even she – has any clue.
Last year, so much of the online noise about the trial came from content creators who made specious arguments to poke holes in the credibility of Heard’s testimony or alleged ulterior, sinister hidden motives based on the actress’s countenance, demeanor, speech, and other behavior.
For example, in clips that were often selectively edited or presented outside of their proper context, Heard might have seemed to cry more hysterically upon realizing the cameras were trained on her, which were used as supposed proof that her claims of suffering abuse at the hands of her ex-husband must therefore be fabricated.
Watching the footage in the manner presented on screen in “Depp v. Heard,” it becomes even more obvious how silly these interpretations were. In reality, of course, no one – not even police officers, trial court judges, F.B.I. and C.I.A. agents, trial lawyers or forensic psychiatrists – can reliably spot when someone is lying to them.
However convincing some YouTuber may have been, and however comforting the idea that we are able to see through the lies of others, I’m sorry to tell you the research on this is overwhelming and uncontested.
As Malcolm Gladwell observes in “Talking to Strangers,” Amanda Knox was falsely convicted for a murder she did not commit because “much of the prosecution’s case…rested on the allegedly strange, guilty behavior she exhibited,” which “the public deemed not in line with typical responses to grief and trauma.”
The cameras did not tell the complete story.
Well before 2022, private details about Depp and Heard’s troubled relationship had spilled onto the pages of tabloids like The Sun, which called Depp a “wife beater” in a 2018 story alleging that “overwhelming evidence was filed to show Johnny Depp engaged in domestic violence against his wife.” After he sued the paper for defamation, London’s High Court of Justice ruled against the actor in 2020, concluding the claims at issue were “substantially true.”
Still, last summer’s litigation between the actors earned far more public attention and unearthed far more (and far more titillating) private information, causing, therefore, far more damage than the supermarket rags and gossip blogs – as well as, ironically, the financial and reputational damage resulting from the very defamation claims that were adjudicated at trial.
As a reminder, Depp sued his ex-wife for a 2018 opinion article in the Washington Post in which she had written, “two years ago, I became a public figure representing domestic abuse, and I felt the full force of our culture’s wrath for women who speak out.” Heard was referencing the backlash against, essentially, identical claims she made in a statement after securing a restraining order against Depp following their divorce in 2016. (“During the entirety of our relationship, Johnny has been verbally and physically abusive to me,” she wrote.)
In so many cases including this one, intimate partner abuse is messy. An audio recording of one of the couple’s arguments shows Heard acknowledging she had struck her ex-husband but denying that she punched him. Her testimony, meanwhile, detailed serious violent crimes, including that Depp had thrown her into a ping pong table and repeatedly hit her in the face before sexually assaulting her with a liquor bottle that may have been broken.
Of course, assuming their sworn testimony to be true, it must also be said, domestic violence is a gendered crime. And the imbalanced power dynamics within their relationship put Heard at a disadvantage, including in this respect. While both are famous actors, the wealth, power, and fame wielded by Depp was then (and remains, now) much greater.
The disparity was evident from the outset. In the Netflix series, throngs of fans are shown cheering the Pirates of the Caribbean star and booing Heard on the first day they were sighted arriving separately to the Fairfax County Circuit Court. Meanwhile, online, evidence of a sustained and coordinated character assassination of Heard had just begun to emerge.
The smear campaign would persist through the trial and beyond. The actress was called a manipulative liar, a gold digger, an abuser, a violent psychopath, a drug addict, and worse. Some of the most outrageous claims were among the most widely circulated: She snorted cocaine on the witness stand, killed her own mother to conceal testimony that would have exonerated Depp, plagiarized lines from the film The Talented Mr. Ripley.
Creators mocked Heard by lip-synching over audio of her testimony about suffering violent abuse in videos that went viral on TikTok along with hashtags like #JusticeForJohnnyDepp, which was seen nearly 3 billion times on the platform. (#justiceforamberheard earned just 25 million views.) One-sided articles and videos, many containing false and misleading claims, were promoted by Ben Shapiro’s conservative media outlet The Daily Wire through its estimated $35,000 and $47,000 purchase of Facebook and Instagram ads.
“Depp v. Heard” was panned by critics.
“If ever a true-crime documentary needed the usual collection of talking-head interviews with esteemed journalists, law enforcement veterans and legal experts to put things in perspective,” Richard Roeper of the Chicago Sun Times wrote, “this is it — but that never happens.”
Others, like CNN’s Brian Lowry, agreed: “How much is gained from listening to a guy in a Deadpool mask offering extensive trial takes is a question ‘Depp v. Heard’ should have contemplated and apparently didn’t,” he wrote.
Several reviews added that part of the problem was that not nearly enough time had elapsed between the events and their retelling. Bustle’s Scaachi Koul pointed to other recent projects involving the private lives of public figures (especially women) that, with sufficient space and distance, found new and interesting things to say about their subjects and opportunities to tell their stories anew.
Ryan White’s excellent documentary “Pamela: A Love Story,” which was released by Netflix in January, manages to find plenty of material about actress and model Pamela Anderson along with the broader sociocultural forces of the 90s and early aughts that helped shape – and were shaped by – the era’s most enduring sex symbol.
The film would have been nothing, however, without Anderson. Listening to her tell her own story, one realizes how poorly suited everyone else was to the task – particularly the leering talk show hosts and journalists who treated her as nothing more than a sex object.
And maybe that, above all else, is the lesson to be gleaned from “Depp v. Heard”: Let’s come back to this story, sure, when we’re ready to cut through the bullshit, reframe the conversation away from the “him vs. her” framing, stop relying on provably unreliable evidence, and consider the broader context of their relationship and the impact of the trial that happened on TikTok and YouTube. And let’s definitely listen to Heard if and when she’s ready to talk about this again.
Until we get that docuseries (or documentary, scripted series, film, book, whatever), I fear everything else will be deeply unsatisfactory and unsatisfying.
Opinions
Matthew Rosenstein in ‘Make Me French’ a hit at Clear Space Theatre
‘A bagel who dreamed of being a croissant’
Clear Space Theatre Company was founded in 2004 and has become a huge success in Rehoboth Beach, Del. They present performances all year long, and always have a great summer season when the town grows by the thousands. Not only do they have some great main productions this year, “The Cher Show,” “Pretty Woman,” and “Mean Girls,” but they also have a strong series of cabaret performances.
Matthew Rosenstein’s show, “Make Me French!” was part of that series. While I haven’t seen them all, it will be hard to beat his show. He is a superb storyteller and singer. He blends his real-life experiences, with music from different genres, including showtunes and French disco. Some of the songs he uses to tell his story include: “Belle / Go the Distance” (Menken/Ashman; Menken/Zippel), “Ahh, Paree/Les prénoms de Paris” (Sondheim; Brel); and “Hymne à L’Amour” (Marguerite Monnot/Edith Piaf/Hiroyuki Takei/Fumiaki Uemura).
He has a way of making you feel part of his life story. The show is directed and co-authored by cabaret icon Robbie Rozelle, and it features music direction and arrangements by the incredibly talented Michael Cuschieri, who also plays the piano. The backup band included, Jim McGiffin on bass; Joshua Getka on drums; and Jessica Brams-Miller who sings backup and banters with Matthew, in a wonderful French accent. They are all immensely talented.
The blurb I received from Clear Space said about the show: “A bagel who dreamed of being a croissant, young Matt Rosenstein longed for a life that was far more sophisticated, and interesting, than his own as a suburban New Jersey teenager in the 1990s. His one prayer? “Make Me French!” Matt was determined to not just learn French but to be as French as possible.” Matt went so far as to call Air France from pay phones as a youngster, just to practice speaking with a real French person.
He eventually got the chance to move to Paris to fulfill his dream, and learned some hilarious lessons along the way. Matt shares what he’s learned about what he calls our most ‘misunderstood’ ally. The stories and songs are about: Why do French people not get fat? Are they rude? And do they hate Americans? He talks, and sings about these things in a wonderfully humorous way. You get caught up in the stories and then realize not only is Matt a great story teller, but he has a really strong voice. He generally stays away from politics in the show but does suggest he left the United States when George W. Bush became president, and returned when Obama was elected. He didn’t actually say what he wants to do today, but the audience did get the idea.
After living in Paris, he came back to the U.S. and had what he calls, ‘a second awakening.’ He worked with a vocal coach, met and became friends with many in the theater world and did his first show, “A Pleasure to Have in Class,” which is stories and songs about his life as a people-pleaser, from childhood to his gay divorce. This second show he shared with the public for the first time in 2023 at The Green Room 42.
Matt told Broadway World, “to do a one-man show, you first have to have the confidence you have a story to tell, that you have something to share with people. Not just something that you want to say, but something relatable that will connect with the audience. And then you have to work with a good team. You need a director that can help you shape an arc out of the story and make sure that it’s not just therapy on stage. So having a good team, making the right musical choices, making sure that you’re not coming from too self-centered of a place, has been key for me.” Matt followed all that advice well, and the result is the wonderful “Make Me French.”
This is the first show Matt has done outside of New York. I hope for audiences it won’t be the last. The world awaits this talented performer. You can follow Matt on Instagram and on his website, showtunesmatt.com. The Clear Space cabaret series continues all summer; visit clearspacetheatre.org for tickets.
Now the disclaimer: I am not related to Matthew Rosenstein, and this is an unbiased review. It would be nice to be related to such a talented guy, but we have found no indication we share any relatives at all. I first met Matthew after his show at Clear Space Theatre in Rehoboth Beach.
Peter Rosenstein is a longtime LGBTQ rights and Democratic Party activist.
Germany
We must not scapegoat refugees after Berlin Pride terrorist attack
‘LGBTI people must not be instrumentalized to spread hatred against others.’
On Saturday, during Berlin’s Christopher Street Day, one of Europe’s biggest LGBTQ Pride events, a 21-year-old religious extremist drove a van into the crowd and then used a knife to stab multiple people. One person died and 29 others were injured.
When I saw this news on social media, I sincerely felt scared, and not because one more bigot used his religion to justify violence against people like me. It has, unfortunately, happened too often. Despite being happy to see the overwhelming support for the queer community and the condemnation of terrorism, I was terrified by the wave of Islamophobic and anti-immigrant statements that came even from “left” and “progressive” people who should know better, who generally support refugees, who know that all people are equal, and that you shouldn’t treat others as less human because of their religion.
In 2020, a Russian MP threatened to start a criminal case against me after I interviewed Muslim women about why they called themselves feminists and wrote about my own relationship with feminism and Islam, mentioning that I was following events in Syria and had read some academic books on the Islamic State. Surprisingly, the MP claimed that I was recruiting women to ISIS by using feminist ideas, which, of course, was absolutely ridiculous for many reasons, including the fact that I was an openly nonbinary transgender person. But some media outlets and queer people online, including those who called themselves progressive, refused to support me or believed the lie. This is what an anti-extremist witchhunt looks like. If I had been in Russia, and not in the UK, I probably would have been in prison.
It is extremely important to oppose extremism by knowing the actual facts about terrorist groups and not starting a moral panic.
Here are four examples of what media coverage and queer people online often misunderstand about the events in Berlin, and why it’s important.
1. Islam is not the problem
Despite a common misunderstanding, this terrorist act wasn’t even about Islam.
Islam, just like Christianity and Judaism, has a variety of views on LGBTQ rights, from affirmative to condemning. I think everyone in the American Bible Belt has met Christian fundamentalists who praised violence against LGBTQ people or used violence against their own queer children, so it is a universal problem. But the thing is Abdul Ballout was not an ordinary conservative Muslim. He was known for wanting to join ISIS. It is an apocalyptic cult that teaches that we are living in the last era, so they are trying to re-create the caliphate that they believe should be restored before Doomsday.
Most of the Muslim people I know, including conservative Salafi Muslims, see the group as dangerous criminals, or don’t see the group as a Muslim group at all. The vast majority of ISIS victims are not Western people or queer people, but cisgender heterosexual Muslims in the Middle East and Africa who the group considers to be infidels. ISIS is widely condemned by Muslim communities and scholars, and blaming Islam for the actions of cult members is like blaming Christianity and all Christians — or even all Christian fundamentalists — for the actions of Branch Davidians members or for the mass murder-suicide committed by members of the People’s Temple.
2. Refugees are not the problem — and Germany is not a safe haven for refugees
First, the attacker was a German citizen. But the media continue to blame migration. Germany is seen as a safe haven for refugees and asylum seekers in the U.S., the UK and beyond. But the time when Germany was safe is long gone. For refugees from Russia between 2022 and 2025 alone, around 90 percent of refugee claims have been refused by Germany, including the claims of political prisoners. The situation for non-White Muslim refugees is even worse, especially in regions such as Bavaria.
I have personal experience working with some refugees in Germany who are also Muslim. The way the migration service mistreated them is beyond anything I saw while working with refugees and being a refugee in the UK. I saw cases in Germany where an asylum seeker’s family was threatened back home because of social media posts the asylum seeker had made, or where a person was detained and sent back to their homeland despite having a history of persecution and torture by the government. Very often, when a person is taken by the immigration service, their loved ones don’t know where they are. Queer refugees also report homophobic and transphobic attitudes in the system.
The narrative that Germany is too generous to refugees was created by the far right and has little to do with reality, and it harms actual refugees, including queer refugees, by silencing their voices.
3. There is no collective responsibility
It is an extremely old and dangerous idea.
Just as all gay men shouldn’t be blamed for what the American serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer did just because he was gay; we shouldn’t blame all Muslims, all people of Middle Eastern origin, or any other large demographic group for the crime of one terrorist. Even if the terrorist had been a refugee and a Muslim, it shouldn’t actually matter, because under the law in any modern non-authoritarian country, an individual shouldn’t be held responsible for the actions of their social group.
After all, when a white, Christian, cisgender, heterosexual, neurotypical person commits a crime, it is almost always seen as an individual’s fault. Why is it different for marginalized groups? The idea of collective responsibility harmed the gay community for decades and is harming the trans community right now, for example after Charlie Kirk’s murder. The best thing we can do is stop this narrative, because it will be used against us.
The only reason I explained about ISIS and the refugee experience in Germany is to show how far from reality the popular accusations are.
4. Witch-hunts and scapegoating serve the far-right agenda and are extremely anti-queer
From my own experience, as an openly trans person speaking against Islamophobia, sexism and queerphobia who was accused of supporting the cult that kills queer people, promotes the sexual exploitation of women and sees the majority of Muslims as legitimate targets, I can say for sure that moral panic can go wild.
People who remember the Satanic Panic of the 1980s, or even the attacks on Muslim communities after Sept. 11, should know this.
Now even queer people are attacking refugees and Muslim communities online while the German government is introducing more draconian measures against those groups.
ILGA-Europe, the biggest LGBTQ organization in Europe, made a statement warning against any attempt to weaponize the attack.
“This tragedy must not be used to fuel hatred against migrants, foreigners or Muslim communities. We reject any attempt by anti-democratic actors to exploit what happened to divide communities, scapegoat minorities or turn one group against another,” Chaber, the group’s executive director, said. “LGBTI people must not be instrumentalized to spread hatred against others, nor should the existence of racism, Islamophobia or anti-migrant hatred be used to minimize the threats faced by LGBTI people. The rights, safety, and dignity of all people must be defended.”
People who live at the intersection of multiple marginalized identities — LGBTQ Muslims, LGBTQ people of color and LGBTQ refugees — will probably suffer the most from this moral panic. Moreover, these are the same political groups that target refugees, Muslim communities and queer people. If this hatred isn’t stopped now, everyone is potentially at risk.
Condemning terrorism is important, but it is no less important to stop creating more victims.
Opinions
Pentagon says hormones make trans troops unfit but gives them to men
A man who needs a screening program to feel like a warrior is telling on himself
Last week, the Secretary of Defense posted a video to announce what he called the “High-T Department of War.” In it, Pete Hegseth ordered annual testosterone screening for every service member over 30 and offered testosterone therapy to those who want it, all in the name of keeping American warriors, in his words, on the “leading edge of lethality.” A hormone, he explained, is part of “the biological foundation required to sustain the fight.”
I have spent years writing about masculinity, so I know a performance when I see one. But this one is different, because at the exact moment Hegseth is prescribing testosterone to the men, his department is throwing other Americans out of uniform for taking it.
Here is the contradiction, and I promise I am not the one straining to find it. Since early 2025, the administration has worked to remove transgender troops from the military. One of its stated reasons, laid out in the executive order and in the government’s own court filings, is that these service members require ongoing medical treatment the military cannot easily sustain. Hormone therapy, the argument goes, means cost, monitoring, lab work, and stretches of non-deployability. A soldier who needs a standing prescription, the logic runs, is a burden the force cannot carry.
Then the same department launched a program to put a standing hormone prescription in the pocket of any man over 30 who wants one.
You do not have to take my word for the hypocrisy. A federal judge has already put it on the record. Last Wednesday, in the case challenging the transgender ban, Judge Ana Reyes took formal notice of the new testosterone program and ordered the government to explain how the very same class of treatment can be readiness-enhancing for one group of troops and disqualifying for another. It is the question at the center of the case now. Reyes has been skeptical of the medical argument from the start. Last year she pointed out that the military spent roughly $41 million on Viagra in a single year, and called transgender care, by comparison, “not even a rounding error.”
That is the tell. It was never really about the medicine. Testosterone is testosterone. The prescriptions, the monitoring, the lab work, the deployability questions are identical whether the person filling the vial is a trans man or a cisgender colonel chasing his youth. The only thing that changes is who is holding it. When the man taking the hormone fits the picture of a warrior, the treatment becomes “lethality.” When the man taking it is transgender, the identical treatment becomes a fatal risk to readiness. The medicine did not change. The identity did.
I want to be fair, because the argument only works if it is honest. The government has other claims in the case that a court has not yet resolved, about surgeries, about facilities, about unit cohesion, and it insists that cisgender men on testosterone and transgender men are simply “not similarly situated.” Those arguments can be debated on their merits. But the medical one, the claim that hormone therapy itself is too much for the military to manage, is the one Hegseth’s own policy just detonated. You cannot brand testosterone a warrior’s birthright on Monday and a disqualifying liability on Tuesday and expect a judge, or the rest of us, not to notice.
And notice what the whole spectacle is actually selling. A “Department of War” rebrand. A hormone reframed as a weapon. A Secretary who mocks “dudes in dresses” while rolling out mandatory bloodwork so the men can optimize their manhood by the milligram. This is not a medical policy. It is a theory of masculinity, the same tired one, that a man is a number on a lab report and a posture for the camera. It arrives, not coincidentally, as the administration moves to loosen testosterone prescribing across the country, turning manhood into a supplement you can top off.
I have known a lot of strong men. My father crossed an ocean as a laborer to build a life; the strongest men I was raised by never once measured themselves in a vial. Real strength was never a hormone level, and the men who most need to announce their lethality are, with remarkable consistency, the ones least sure of it.
The House declined last week to write the transgender ban into law, so it still rests on nothing sturdier than executive will and a medical excuse. That excuse just ran out of testosterone. A man who needs a screening program and a war-department rebrand to feel like a warrior is telling on himself. The rest of us should say so out loud.
Dimitrios Aletras is a queer, first-generation Greek-American writer and survivor-advocate, with work published in Salon, The Advocate, and the Reading Eagle.
Matthew Rosenstein in ‘Make Me French’ a hit at Clear Space Theatre
White House orders warning signs at Smithsonian over gender identity exhibits
Rainbows in Revolt on a mission to make LGBTQ artists’ voices heard
Officials raise troubling concerns about Rehoboth mayoral candidate Suzanne Goode
Blade participates in Dutch university course on international LGBTQ rights law
Pentagon says hormones make trans troops unfit but gives them to men
Winsome Earle-Sears launches campaign against Va. marriage equality amendment
Calendar: July 24-30
1 dead, 29 injured in Berlin Pride attack
