No, not all right. It’s wrong. But this is Hollywood. All that matters is whether the movie makes money. Daryl was a villain in the “Kill Bill” movies, so apparently making her the fly in John-John’s metaphorical romantic soup was a natural.

“Storytelling requires tension. It often requires an obstacle. But a real, living person is not a narrative device,” writes the actress, channeling Kant. The trouble is that Hollywood has been using real people as narrative devices for about a century. I don’t recall Hannah objecting to her industry’s habits when she was a star and might have had some influence. “Isn’t it textbook misogyny to tear down one woman in order to build up another?” she laments now.

It’s art, kid. In fact, it’s your art. Suck it up.

Hannah begins by saying that JFK Jr.’s celebrity mother, Jackie Onassis, once told her that although tabloids, magazines and newspapers “often sold ridiculous lies, they were nothing more than bird cage liner by the next day.” But in the digital age, Hannah says now, “stories do not disappear, yesterday’s news isn’t tossed out with the morning paper, and lies live online forever. They are archived, streamed, clipped, memed and resurfaced endlessly. A dramatized portrayal can become, for millions of viewers, the definitive version of a real person’s life.”

If you think that’s bad, Daryl, just wait until you’re dead. Look what they did to Chester A. Arthur.

Somebody should have told Hannah about the Streisand Effect, where a celebrity complaining about a smear just makes more people aware of it. My sock drawer couldn’t possible be well-organized enough to take me away from it to watch a show about JFK Jr., who when he was alive struck me as yet another President’s kid whose life consisted of futilely trying to exploit his fame. If possible, I care even less about Daryl Hannah than I do about John-John. Hollywood, meanwhile, is a lost cause in the ethics wars.