So they’ve finally brought that criminal mastermind, Roman Polanski, to justice. Well sort of. I’m sure that justice will totally happen once they go through a lengthy extradition appeals process in Switzerland followed by motions to dismiss back in the States. He’s like the Hannibal Lecter of horny French-Poles who shagged some jailbait back in the ’70s. For decades he’s brilliantly evaded police by hiding in plain sight in Europe and cleverly not returning to America, even when they tried to bait him with an Oscar. They only managed to nab him after more than thirty years by baiting him with a lifetime-achievment award in Switzerland. This will, no doubt, go down in history as the greatest law enforcement take-down since Frank Hamer and his men pumped 130 rounds into Bonnie and Clyde by employing subtle Machiavellian techniques such as not offering a fair warning before opening fire.
The fact that Polanski, a holocaust survivor, got busted in Switzerland, the favourite bank for the Nazis and long-time repository for heaping piles of loot stolen from Jews on their way to the gas chambers, shows exactly where the Swiss priorities for justice lie. Murder six million civilians and they’ll happily hold your cash for you and pay interest, no questions asked. Dope up an underage model and fuck her at Jack Nicholson’s house and they will cut your throat the first chance they get.
Of course, it never mattered that Polanski’s victim was paid a cash settlement years ago and has begged, on numerous occasions, for the authorities to drop the issue. Nor has it mattered that the only reason Polanski skipped town was to avoid a hefty sentence after judge Rittenband renegged on the plea bargain agreed upon by the prosecution and defence because he thought it might tarnish his carefully crafted image. And, of course, no one particularly cares that the prosecutor himself still thinks Polanski did the right thing by leaving the country rather than stay and get screwed over by an incompetent and corrupt media-whore judge.
Personally, I’m all for letting some of the genius-level artists among us get away with shit from time to time. Their petty, self-indulgent crimes are eventually lost to history, but the work remains. I know I, for one, can forgive Polanski for something he did so long ago, because hey, it’s not like he raped MY daughter.
For a better perspective on the Polanski rape trial and aftermath, I highly recommend ignoring the commentator hyperbole polluting the airwaves and internet and watching the documentary Roman Polanski: Wanted and Desired instead.