If Twitter were to be believed, there are few people on earth more despised than Chris Pratt. Paddle through the sea of disparaging remarks and barbed memes, and you might imagine the 42-year-old actor to be something of a modern-day Frankenstein’s monster. A cinematic pariah, unfit for human company or roles in the latest Jurassic World sequel. Such is the sheer volume of disdain levelled against Pratt that filmmaker James Gunn – who directs him in the Guardians of the Galaxy franchise – felt compelled to directly address calls for his dismissal. Responding to a fan who asked Marvel to “replace” Pratt (with The Conjuring’s Patrick Wilson), Gunn said: “For what? Because of your made-up, utterly false beliefs about him? Chris Pratt would never be replaced as Star-Lord but, if he ever was, we would all be going with him.”
It’s true. The idea that Pratt would be swapped out, five films deep into a mega-franchise like Marvel, is pretty specious. When actors are recast in major features (outside of contract disputes), there’s always some serious reason: abuse; misconduct; criminality. Pratt’s worst offence is his somewhat tenuous association with a church that has been criticised for its LGBT+ views – guilt only by association. As Adam White wrote a while ago in his assessment of the anti-Pratt backlash, the animosity towards the actor “feels less to do with his personal life and more to do with cool”, or Pratt’s lack thereof. And that’s also true: Pratt doesn’t have the critical cachet of an Oscar Isaac or Adam Driver, nor the popular adoration of a Leonardo DiCaprio or Brad Pitt. A man who shoots straight from sitcom supporting-player and rom-com wingman to instant franchise figurehead doesn’t give you much of an underdog to root for. No one wants to champion a steroidal pitbull. But the backlash against him is not only excessive, it’s illusory. Put away the pitchforks and the Most Hated Hunk statuettes – outside the social media bubble, Pratt is not just tolerated by the public at large, but actively embraced.
