Editor's Note: The following was originally published yesterday at Andrew Breitbart's Big Hollywood blog.
After news broke of fugitive child rapist Roman Polanski’s second accuser, the L.A. Times’ Patrick Goldstein wrote the following:
As an admirer of his work, I’ve tried to see things from Polanski’s point of view in the past, but if these charges turn out to be true, it would be harder than ever to defend him. Once burned is twice shy.
What a relief to know Goldstein draws the line somewhere. But he’s not alone. Here’s Jeff Wells:
Well, I guess things don’t look so hot right now for the “let it go because Roman Polanski is an art god” argument, do they? Yes, I’ll admit it — the indications are damning.
I’m confused. Are you confused?
What about “Rosemary’s Baby?”
Polanski drugs, rapes and sodomizes a thirteen year-old girl and then flees justice. Then these two — and many others like them — give Polanski a pass because he’s such a OhMyGawdHesSoAwesome filmmaker. I assumed this was due to Polanski helming “Chinatown.”
However, both Wells and Goldstein seem to have forgotten ”Rosemary’s Baby,” which is also a classic. Doesn’t that make this second charge okay? It’s certainly no “Chinatown,” but if you throw in “Repulsion” with a side order of ”The Pianist,” I would think you could cobble together a second It’s Okay To Sexually Abuse A Child Card.
Before I hit sarcasm overload, this is yet another revealing and disturbing look at those trusted with covering and reporting on an industry in charge of the most powerful propaganda machine ever devised. Co-opted doesn’t begin to describe it. They are Brothers-In-Arms. Even after Polanski put his defenders in a box with his guilty plea, this didn’t stop them. Obviously no one could say Polanski was innocent. So what’s left? Incredibly…
Goldstein: “As an admirer of his work.”
Wells: “Art god.”
And this really isn’t victim #2, is it? Two words you’re not hearing in all the new hub-bub are Natassia and Kinski. Polanski’s own words from his memoir:
Nastassia introduced me to her mother, who discussed her career with me [...]. That was when I first learned Nastassia’s age. She was only fifteen.
We made love more than once during my three months in Munich. [...] On the night we met I’d thought her a couple of years older than her friend, who was, in fact, seventeen.
As recently as last month, Polanski has never shown a hint of remorse for what he did to that thirteen year-old girl, or anyone else. For his Hollywoodist apologists to think they can leap over to the correct side of this argument now, it’s a little too late.
If one admitted child rape isn’t enough then nothing is. This so-called moral line in the sand they’re hoping to now draw is a transparent attempt to save face. Because they live in a protective bubble populated only with those who think as they do, what Polanski’s defenders didn’t expect was such a fierce backlash to their strident defense of a child rapist; and if they think for a second that they can exploit this latest accusation as a way out — a kind of absolution — they are sadly mistaken.
On the contrary, they only reveal themselves all the more.