The Woody Allen Letter From Dylan Farrow – A Piece of Writing That Could Make a Movie

The Woody Allen Letter From Dylan Farrow - A Piece of Writing That Could Make a Movie

It’s awards season and Woody Allen has received something he would never have dreamt of – an open letter to the New York Times alleging sexual molestation by the director against his adopted daughter, Dylan Farrow.

Posted on the blog of a friend, Nicholas Kristof, the letter explains details of the experience she recalls.

Allen, who just received a Golden Globe lifetime achievement award and stands to receive an oscar for his Blue Jasmine movie (original screenplay) next month.

But right now, he has some writing to deal with that he would rather never have seen.

What’s your favorite Woody Allen movie? Before you answer, you should know: when I was seven years old, Woody Allen took me by the hand and led me into a dim, closet-like attic on the second floor of our house. He told me to lay on my stomach and play with my brother’s electric train set. Then he sexually assaulted me. He talked to me while he did it, whispering that I was a good girl, that this was our secret, promising that we’d go to Paris and I’d be a star in his movies. I remember staring at that toy train, focusing on it as it traveled in its circle around the attic. To this day, I find it difficult to look at toy trains.

For as long as I could remember, my father had been doing things to me that I didn’t like. I didn’t like how often he would take me away from my mom, siblings and friends to be alone with him. I didn’t like it when he would stick his thumb in my mouth. I didn’t like it when I had to get in bed with him under the sheets when he was in his underwear. I didn’t like it when he would place his head in my naked lap and breathe in and breathe out. I would hide under beds or lock myself in the bathroom to avoid these encounters, but he always found me. These things happened so often, so routinely, so skillfully hidden from a mother that would have protected me had she known, that I thought it was normal. I thought this was how fathers doted on their daughters. But what he did to me in the attic felt different. I couldn’t keep the secret anymore.

Scroll to Top