DarrenBarefoot.com

I’m an idealist when it comes to artists. I stupidly believe that the artists I respect ought to be above selling themselves to whoever writes a cheque. This is especially true if you’re a serious, critically-acclaimed, well-moneyed artist.

So, when I recently saw Robert De Niro starring in an ad for American Express, the string of vitriol that poured out of my mouth wasn’t remotely fit for print. For God’s sake, man, do you really need the money? Surely you’re still making six-figure residuals from the Godfather movies (the top-selling DVDs for months back in late 2001, early 2002), let alone your other 70 films. I know lots of actors like to japander but, to water down a phrase, don’t defecate where you live.

Maybe mine is an antiquated notion (I subscribe to the Neil Young school of corporate endorsement). After all, Warhol and Toulouse-Latrec did plenty of commercial work. Still, I think it lessens De Niro’s body of work when you add “credit card commercial” to the likes of Taxi Driver and Raging Bull.

Of course, then I read that Martin Scorsese directed De Niro in the commercial. I surrender.