On one side stand some of our era’s most accomplished movie directors: Woody Allen, Martin Scorsese, John Landis, David Lynch, Wim Wenders, Terry Gilliam, Pedro Almodóvar, Jonathan Demme, Costa-Gavras, Jean-Jacques Annaud . . .
On the other side, a much shorter list: justice and common sense.
The recent arrest of Roman Polanski, the celebrated Polish-born movie director who pleaded guilty in 1978 to having illegal sex with a 13-year old girl, and has been a fugitive ever since, has become a strangely polarizing event.
The artistic elite, as well as many high-profile European politicians and members of the media, appear to believe a lifetime of admired work can be a mitigating factor in the application of justice.
French Culture Minister Frédéric Mitterrand denounced the arrest in Zurich as “absolutely horrifying” and claimed it showed “a side of America which is frightening.” Radoslaw Sikorski, the Polish foreign minister, demanded immediate clemency for his country’s famous son.
In one of the more bizarre defences of Polanski, comedian Whoopi Goldberg appeared on the daytime television show The View to argue the moviemaker’s action fell into a grey area of legality. “I know it wasn’t rape-rape. It was something else but I don’t believe it was rape-rape.”
Finally a legion of famous directors and artists, just a few of whom are listed above, signed a petition organized by a French writers’ union. The petition reads in part: “Roman Polanski is a French citizen, a renown[ed] and international artist, now facing extradition. This extradition, if it takes place, will be heavy in consequence and will take away his freedom.” Which is, of course, precisely the reason why everyone else thinks it ought to occur.
Polanski committed a crime in 1977. He admitted committing this crime. And it was certainly not an inconsequential act. On the eve of his sentencing, he fled the country and has lived as a fugitive from justice ever since. That he has continued to make movies, win awards (including an Oscar for best director in 2002) and live a life of conspicuous luxury in Europe should not be misinterpreted as an exculpation of his original deed, regardless of how many of his peers sign a petition.
The quality of an artist’s oeuvre can never be considered an excuse for criminal behaviour. And Goldberg’s grotesque gradient of sexual assault, in which a 44-year-old man having sex with a 13-year-old girl despite her repeated protestations does not meet her criteria for “rape-rape,” is insulting to both women and men.
To its credit, the French government has lately come to its senses. “Roman Polanski is neither above nor beneath the law,” said Luc Chatel, the minister of national education who serves as the official spokesman for the French government. “We have a judicial procedure underway for a serious affair, the rape of a minor, on which the American and Swiss legal systems are doing their job.”
As for the culture minister’s initial remarks? “Frédéric Mitterrand was speaking from the heart,” Chatel added. The Polish prime minister has similarly qualified his foreign minister’s position on convicted rapists.
But the artistic community remains unbowed in its defence of Polanski. Because the case is not in dispute, it must be that Hollywood doesn’t consider itself bound by the same rules as other folk. Justice and common sense would disagree.
In 1977 Polanski arranged to take pictures of 13-year-old Samantha Gailey, an aspiring model and actress, for Vogue. During their second photo session, they ended up at Jack Nicholson’s house.
In grand jury testimony provided two weeks after the incident and released to the public in 2003, Gailey explained in excruciating detail—and in the unmistakable cadence of a 13-year-old girl—how Polanski plied her with champagne and Quaaludes to get her naked, drunk and drugged. When she resisted his advances in a hot tub by faking an asthma attack, Polanski manoeuvred her onto a couch in one of Nicholson’s bedrooms.
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