By We are now in post-#MeToo world, one in which those facing accusations of assault and harassment are creeping back into the picture to stage a comeback or ask for forgiveness after a few months of speedy soul searching.
The outrage that propelled the movement has in part been replaced by the vast and complicated question of what we should do about the men disgraced by these scandals, a conundrum which offers fresh outrage in itself.
The #MeToo movement has killed off a number of film projects, including Channing Tatum's directorial debut and a David O'Russell project with Julianne Moore and Robert De Niro - both under The Weinstein Company umbrella. Just last week Amazon announced it was shelving Woody Allen's A Rainy Day in New York, taking the punt that the controversial director releasing a film about a relationship between a 44-year-old man and a 15-year-old girl might not be a winning formula in 2018.
The decision to cut loose disgraced actors or to end projects is difficult in films, but even more complicated for ongoing television shows which have been forced to detangle themselves from a character who needs to disappear, or justify their decision to keep them.
This week Netflix released concrete proof that Kevin Spacey's character is dead in the next season of House Of Cards with the terminal image of Frank Underwood's gravestone. The streaming service was quick to distance itself from Spacey last November after the actor faced multiple accusations of sexual harassment and assault and decided coming out as gay was a suitable apology.
After axing Spacey Netflix announced House of Cards would continue for one more season which will return this November with Robin Wright taking centre stage as the series lead.
However despite Wright replacing him, and the female empowerment heavy teaser trailer which command you to "Hail to the chief", it remains to be seen whether the show can outrun the scandal.
The question of whether we can separate the art from the artist has been circled in the wake of #MeToo movement, but how should we proceed when punishing one artist means everyone else involved suffers the repercussions?
House of Cards not ending after Spacey's exit is in some ways a victory, proving a television show is bigger than the big name male lead actor and that it doesn't have to crumble without him. If the final season proves too closely tied to the toxicity of Spacey it is a sad consequence and unfair punishment for the rest of the talented cast and crew.
A similar scandal has dogged Amazon series Transparent, which fired lead character and former Arrested Development actor Jeffrey Tambor in February after two sexual harassment allegations were made against him.
That Tambor's role as a man finally revealing to his family that he identifies as a woman was so sensitively portrayed only sharpened the sting of the revelations. What had been a progressive milestone in trans representation in television was crafted around the work of a possible abuser, and it was difficult pill for many to swallow.
However the real revolutionary force behind the show is, and always has been, creator Jill Soloway, whose father came out as transgender in 2011 at age 75. Soloway's show is raw and revelatory and Transparent has deservedly been Amazon's first series to win a major award as well as the first show produced by a streaming service to win a Golden Globe for 'Best Series'.
These things considered, Transparent adapting to life after Tambor and pushing on to make this important series work without him feels aligned with the tenacity and bravery of #MeToo.
The fates of House of Cards and Transparent pose the question of whether an uninvolved and unwitting group should pay for the mistakes of one. Just because one actor is #cancelled according to Twitter, should the show and everyone else be cancelled too?
It is a less straight forward issue to navigate than for someone like comedian Louis C.K who is a solo performer not taking anyone else down with him and in whose work, the art is the artist.
Next week HBO series The Deuce will tread a different post-#MeToo path, returning to the small screen with leading actor James Franco still part of the cast.
After the actor wore a Time's Up pin while accepting a Golden Globe in January this year, five women from his past came forward to accuse Franco of sexually inappropriate or exploitative behaviour.
However only the following month, The Deuce writer Megan Abbott told reporters that Franco will return for the second season of the show that he has directed two episodes of, and in which he plays twin brothers Vincent and Frankie Martino.
Their decision to stand by him caused speculation that HBO must know something that audiences do not as network president Casey Bloys confirmed again in July that, “We all felt comfortable with a second season” in reference to Franco.
The actor denied the allegations claiming, “The things that I heard that were on Twitter are not accurate”, but why his refutation of the claims are being taken more seriously than, say, Tambor, who too denies allegations of sexual harassment, is unclear.
Regardless, it is a bold move keeping him in such a prominent role when the series has been at pains to depict the experience of sex work through the eyes of women, even hiring all female directors for the second season.
Franco has been out of the spotlight since the claims, having been photoshopped out of a Vanity Fair cover and not attending the Oscars this year. Will it take him reappearing in a series about sexual exploitation and power for protests to start mounting again? We'll find out next week when it returns.
These shows have all proved there is is no blueprint or uniform solution for navigating the aftermath of an actor's fall from grace. While there is clearly a strong movement to deny giving a platform to potential abusers, how or whether TV shows should carry on after they are erased is less clear.
