A Roman offering?

Hubris is as common an accessory for filmmakers as those damned baseball caps. However, neither, ultimately, covers the creators’ flaws whether they be bald spots or deadly sins. I might have forgiven John Landis for the needless slaughter of two child actors, Renee Chen and My-Ca Le, and veteran thesp Vic Morrow, had the director not eulogized the latter offering this half-assed consolation rather than a whole-hearted redress for manslaughter: “Tragedy strikes in an instant, but film is immortal.” Of course, this is a particularly galling parting gift intoned in light of Landis’ alleged eternal contribution to cinema being the lamest segment of TWILIGHT ZONE: THE MOVIE. (Spoiler alert: Racism is bad.)

Roman Polanski, at least, has avoided uttering equally barbaric soundbites since his confession to drugging and sodomizing a minor, though I imagine if he were in the States — and incarcerated — we’d hear more from the diminutive pederast-piggy. (“Her lips said ‘Non,’ but her quaalude-clouded eyes said ‘oui, oui, oui!’ all the way home.”) Nevertheless, his filmic prolificacy speaks volumes and I don’t like what I’m hearing/seeing: PIRATES. FRANTIC. BITTER MOON. THE NINTH GATE. (He gets a pass for THE PIANIST, although making a Holocaust film practically guarantees one will receive Hollywood’s, um, gold star, no?)

Now, you can get a glimpse of Polanski’s latest, THE GHOST WRITER, thanks to the good folks at iTunes (and others, I’m sure). This is the project that allowed the deviant movie-maker to bypass prison time in favor of house arrest and somehow escape extradition once again. I urge you to watch the trailer, then ask yourself if it’s worth it. Worth what? Worth the tens of millions spent upon a genre production in service of the creative ego of a convicted statutory rapist. What price Art? Better yet, what price Justice? Have we bartered one for the other?

Question what you see. Consider what you don’t. Draw your own conclusions.