The #MeToo movement has exposed a number of men in Hollywood as sexual predators. Starting with Harvey Weinstein and Kevin Spacey, #MeToo’s momentum kept going, with comments sections in scores of articles worrying about the next shoe to drop; many wondered whether one of their favorite actors or directors would be next. By and large, it has been a good, if painful, process, and the worries about “witch hunts” are unfounded. But #MeToo has forced many of us into an uncomfortable position. What do you do with all those movies you like, when they’re made by someone you know to be a monster?

Take the The Usual Suspects, directed by Bryan Singer (who had dubious relationships with younger men) and starring Kevin Spacey in an iconic role. What do we do with The Usual Suspects, knowing what we know now? There are two ways to understand this question, first as a moral question, and second as a practical one. In a moral mode, the question is: what would be the ethical thing to do with movies made by vicious people, knowing what we know now? The practical version asks: what should I do with these movies, in light of what I know now? Many prioritize the moral question (see the post on #MeToo at Daily Nous); once you answer it, an answer to the practical question follows naturally. But I think the practical question could just as well come first, and indeed, I think that it actually does occur to us before the moral question.  An uncomfortable feeling follows from knowing that one has enjoyed the work of a vicious person. I’ll call this the “grossness” phenomenon: it makes us uneasy to enjoy the work of a monster. But why does the grossness phenomenon arise at all?