Roman Polanski, Hollywood, and the Mystery of the Missing Outrage

Oct 8, 2009
Carson Holloway

The arrest in Switzerland of Roman Polanski, and his possible extradition to the United States to stand trial for the rape of a minor, has stirred a surprising public controversy. While many commentators have expressed satisfaction that he might be called to account for his crime, others, especially those in Hollywood, have come to Polanski's defense. The controversy itself is not so surprising as the character of the defense. After all, it is no shock that many would celebrate the prospect of a long delayed reckoning in the case of a child rapist. At the same time, it is not unheard of that Polanski would have his defenders, given the long time that has elapsed since his misdeed, the distinguished nature of his career as a director, and the fact that he seems to have kept out of serious trouble with the law for the last three decades.What is surprising, however, is to find Polanski's partisans reacting with indignation to his arrest and possible prosecution, as if he were a victim of some great injustice. It is understandable that some would feel pity for him. Here is a prominent and accomplished man, who committed a terrible crime many years ago, and who finds that it has, near the end of his life, finally caught up with him.

Stated in this way, Polanski's story sounds like the outline of a tragedy, and tragedy, as Aristotle observed, tends by its nature to evoke pity in the audience. Such pity need not be rooted in moral complacency, but in an admirable appreciation of the human frailty that we share with the wrongdoer—in our sense that we, too, might have been capable of such things, and might have come to face a similar punishment. Indeed, confronted with the spectacle of Polanski's arrest, we might be moved to pity, and to a profitable self-reflection, by the realization that we all have done things for which a just reckoning is due, and that we will have to face that reckoning here or hereafter. the rest