Harry Styles Finally Addresses Spitgate

"I just popped very quickly to Venice to spit on Chris Pine,” Styles joked (?) to the crowd during his latest show at Madison Square Garden.

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Harry Styles Finally Addresses Spitgate
Photo:Rocco Spaziani/Archivio Spaziani/Mondadori Portfolio (Getty Images)

Just when you thought there was no conceivable way that anything else could be written about the nine-second interaction between Genovian royalty and, according to Rolling Stone, pop royalty, prepare for yet another day of arguably exhaustive discourse.

Last night, during his tenth consecutive show at Madison Square Garden, Harry Styles finally addressed what the internet has proclaimed, “Spitgate.” If that only sounds like a title on PornHub, earlier this week at the Venice premiere of Don’t Worry Darling, Styles appeared to spit on co-star Chris Pine—effectively inducing a collective spiral that social scientists will one day study. Pine’s people already attempted to set the record straight, but that didn’t stop Styles from speaking his piece.

“This is our tenth show at Madison Square Garden. It’s wonderful, wonderful, wonderful to be back in New York. I just popped very quickly to Venice to spit on Chris Pine,” Styles jests in video footage posted by fans. “But fret not, we’re back!”

Well, there you have it! Fortunately for the freaks who hope the fodder surrounding Don’t Worry Darling is fed for the rest of their natural-born lives, this isn’t exactly an admission of guilt, but unlike Pine’s statement, it’s certainly no denial either.

“This is a ridiculous story—a complete fabrication and the result of an odd online illusion that is clearly deceiving and allows for foolish speculation,” Pine’s rep insisted via a statement to Variety on Wednesday. “Just to be clear, Harry Styles did not spit on Chris Pine. There is nothing but respect between these two men and any suggestion otherwise is a blatant attempt to create drama that simply does not exist.”

In semi-related news, Florence Pugh won’t attend the New York City premiere of the film. And the very lukewarm reviews continue to roll in. While I enjoy entertaining the notion of equal-opportunity drama, I fear Don’t Worry Darling’s mutation—from a movie that purports to be a feminist statement to a talisman of the tabloid’s stranglehold on humanity—has become something akin to that of “The Standing Ovation Problem,” wherein the masses fall prey to the “disease” of infectious applause and can’t seem to stop.

Are we all doomed to circulate the salacious and saliva-ridden lore of this godforsaken film for all of eternity? I’m worrying, darling!


 
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