Mel Gibson is furious. The tabloids are having a rollicking time with his surreptitiously taped audio meltdowns. He’s being branded, “Mad Mel” in a weary mocking of his “Mad Max” franchise of films and, frankly, I don’t think the gossip rags will ever give him a chance to get up again and breathe unless something terrible happens to satiate their bloodlust.
There’s certainly no excuse for Mel’s abusive behavior — but most of us behave better when we know we’re being watched — and while it is always better to properly behave at all times and accept that someone, somewhere, is always looking and listening, few of us are capable of living a truly honest and public life every single day without a misstep or two.
I can’t help but feeling a bit sorry for Mel as he screams into the phone. He’s clearly hurt and angry and looking for a way out. He knows he’s been trapped, but he can’t quite figure out how or if there’s a clean way of escape. It’s easy to pick at a wound and harder to let it start the healing process. Mel is a drowning man looking for a rope to pull himself to shore, but all he’s getting in return are anchors lashed to his back.
The base disingenuous of the audio tapes is revealing in who the real culprit was in their relationship. Mel rants unaware as he’s being recorded — while the “mother of his child” is cool and maddeningly collected — simply because she knows quite precisely what he does not: She’s setting him up for the delayed, public, kill; and it’s all in the name of money and property.
Sure, Mel Gibson is crass and mean and he yells a lot — but I’m not sure he deserves this public flaying he’s getting at the hands of a woman who has clearly measured his throat for the butchering.