The moment I watch the unfortunate clip, Galliano became dead in my eyes. It was a worthy Oscar winning performance if the film had required a bitter, washed up, lonely figure at the end of his career or with little or no belief in his self worth. The characterisation and narrative would have shocked and revealed the most insightful point of the demise of a character.
If this were a film then we would be transported to a Parisian apartment or Ibiza villa, 20 years hence where a 70 year old man left to his own devises would be interviewed by a well meaning student or journalist to give an account of his remarks. We would find no remorse, no recognition and still the same views recanted at leisure.
It is a sad fact that with egos and adulation a rather self centred view of ones importance and ones opinions takes over. Let us not confuse this with madness, as madness manifested as depression or psychosis rarely lends to a bitter sweet revelation of the person's mind. Instead madness is a whirlwind of self abuse, fear and paranoia that lashes out to destroy or protect the individual.
There will be many who offer an explanation, will draw comparisons between their own behaviour/addiction/recovery and attempt to find an aspect of humanity we should show compassion for, but for every excuse or proffered explanation the untold damage to others is brushed aside. Whilst I pity Galliano my revulsion is far greater.
Galliano's performance reminded me of Orson Welles and Welles was a devastatingly good actor so much so the performance seemed real. In this case the performance was real and whilst one can look to make excuses, there are no excuses. Forgiveness is one thing, to forget is another.
Dior is now sullied as a fashion house by their creative director's words and actions. It will be goodbye Galliano and unlike Lee McQueen we cannot shed any tears.
