dx “All Show, No Substance”: Greg Gutfeld and Megyn Kelly Call Out AOC’s ‘Staged Performance’

In the high-stakes arena of modern politics, few figures have harnessed the power of narrative and new media quite like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. She is, to her millions of followers, a progressive icon, an authentic voice for the working class, and a social media powerhouse. But a new, scathing critique from two of media’s most outspoken voices, Greg Gutfeld and Megyn Kelly, seeks to dismantle that entire persona, piece by piece. This isn’t a simple policy disagreement; it’s a full-frontal assault on her authenticity, her intelligence, and her entire life story, framing her as a “performer” who is all “drama” and no “depth”.

The most personal and potent criticism revolves around the very narrative AOC has famously built—that of a working-class girl from the Bronx who “struggled to put food on the table”. Gutfeld and Kelly flatly reject this as a fabrication. Megyn Kelly, in particular, delves into a “fact-check” of this origin story. The video highlights Kelly’s point that Ocasio-Cortez “only lived in the Bronx until she was age 5”. From first through twelfth grade, she was reportedly raised in “Yorktown Heights, which is Westchester”, an area characterized by the commentators as “richer, nicer, and more white collar than the Bronx”. This critique is designed to reframe her “everyman narrative” as a “calculated act”, suggesting her entire political identity is built on a foundation that is “not entirely reflective of her real background”. Gutfeld even mocks her attempts to connect with this persona, accusing her of adopting a “preacher accent” and a “fake Latina accent” to appear authentic.
Beyond the personal story, the critique turns to her intellect and policy. Greg Gutfeld, in his signature fiery style, dismisses her as a vessel for ancient, failed ideas. “People have to realize new faces doesn’t mean new ideas,” he states, adding, “AOC has never introduced a fresh idea or issue in her life.” He delivers a blistering comparison: “She’s like an 80-year-old leftist in a used bookstore… she may look fresh, but she’s as stale as an abandoned futon on the street.” He claims her entire platform is recycled from ideas he “heard at Berkeley in 1983”. This isn’t just a political jab; it’s a fundamental accusation of intellectual emptiness, painting her as a charismatic front for an ideology that has long since proven unworkable.
Both Kelly and Gutfeld attack the perceived substance—or lack thereof—in her proposals. Gutfeld uses a condescending but vivid analogy: “She’s like your daughter when she comes back from her first year at Brown, full of half-baked half opinions… in need of some gentle patient deprogramming.” He argues that her ideas are not just old, but dangerously incomplete. He lists concepts she supports—like sanctuary cities or trans rights—and immediately links them to disastrous outcomes: “you have repeat criminals wreaking havoc,” “you just ruined women’s sports,” “you make kids’ lives hell”.
Megyn Kelly echoes this in a more “surgical” manner. She argues that AOC’s “speeches are heavy on emotion and light on structure”, resembling “motivational speeches designed to inspire rather than inform”. Kelly concludes that her arguments are “filled with half-baked ideas and slogans that rouse applause but lack the detailed blueprint for meaningful change”. They argue that she is propped up by a “gushy media” that focuses on her “expression” rather than the fact that her ideas, like a 60-70% tax rate on the “tippy tops”, are “very old ideas”.
The Green New Deal, arguably Ocasio-Cortez’s most famous proposal, is singled out for particular ridicule. Gutfeld doesn’t debate its merits; he dismisses it entirely as a “youthful fantasy”. He compares it to a “last-minute school project” that is completely “missing key details like economic feasibility”. This critique aligns with the broader theme: that her policies are not serious, real-world solutions but “wish lists” designed for social media applause rather than practical implementation.
The central and unifying theme of the entire critique is that AOC is, first and foremost, a performer. Gutfeld claims she “treats her social media platforms like a stage for a personal reality show”. Her Instagram Lives are not legislative updates, but “a performance carefully crafted to boost her image without substantively impacting policy change”. This “theatrical flair” allegedly extends to the halls of Congress, where Gutfeld claims she approaches debates with “more drama than depth”.
The most-cited example of this “political performance art” is the incident where she was “arrested” at a protest. Both Gutfeld and Kelly fixate on this moment. Gutfeld mocks her mercilessly: “She truly is an American hero. It was brutal. Taken out in cuffs. Well technically her shirt had cuffs… as she did surrender without fighting.” He adds, “that didn’t stop her from pretending”. Kelly uses the same incident to make a more analytical point. “Megan doesn’t buy it,” the video states, “pointing out that the cuffs were performative… part of a broader pattern where AOC leans heavily into symbolism over practicality”. For Kelly, this act is the perfect example of a politician for whom “the narrative matters more than the facts and the consequences”.

In the eyes of Gutfeld and Kelly, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez is not a legislator but an actress. They present her as an intellectually shallow creation, propped up by a fawning media and a mastery of “calculated optics”. The exposure they claim to offer is one of a politician who has perfected the art of “rhetorical flair” to hide a complete lack of substance. They are prompting their audiences to think critically about the balance between charisma and substance, and to ask a damning question: in the age of social media, what is the difference between a politician and a performer? And, they imply, is AOC even aware of the distinction?