Judging the man and his movies

As part of the Roman Polanski film series being hosted by the Varsity, “The Pianist” will begin screening this Friday. Polanski, an acclaimed filmmaker, was convicted of statutory rape of a 13-year-old girl in 1977. He then fled abroad, and because of his fugitive status, debate has erupted regarding whether he should receive critical praise as a filmmaker. This column serves as a response to last week’s piece by Rocco Giamatteo, which defended Polanski’s films.

Let me be clear: I like watching Roman Polanski’s films, but I’d much rather like to know that the bastard were rotting in jail.

For despite admiring his movies, I am unwilling to separate Polanski the immensely talented director from Polanski the unforgivable miscreant. I am also unwilling to separate the cinematic art from the rapist that made it.

No amount of talent or critical recognition can override the fact that Polanski is guilty, by his own admission, of a heinous crime. Luckily, this point is not really in question.

What is in question is how movie critics and concerned cinephiles should regard his films until he is finally brought to justice. As we wait for him to atone for his misdeeds, it’s perfectly reasonable to say that they will sully every film he directs.

The argument that art can exist in a realm apart from the artist is the one most often trotted out in Polanski’s defense. It also just happens to be as problematic as the director’s legal history. For all the people who regurgitate it, very few take it seriously.

If we were serious about judging art based solely on its abstracted merits without thinking about who made it, we wouldn’t shower awards on artists — we would just award the art.

But we don’t let paintings or film reels accept prizes on their own behalf.

Instead, we call upon men and women to represent their art, at least in part because we know deep down that art doesn’t come out of the ether. It is a material thing made by real people who exist in a world governed, however imperfectly, by their morals.

It also won’t do to say that Polanski can be a good artist but a bad man, as if “artist” were some spiritual category morally disconnected from its human vessel.

We can’t help but leave our moral stamp on the art that we make; that art is then a reflection of us and impresses us right back.

Trying to separate the art from the artist ignores the first of those facts; trying to separate the artist from the person ignores the second.

Each movie that Polanski makes today is informed by his life experiences. And each award that Polanski receives is, at least in part, an award not just for his cinematic work, but for his life’s work as well. These are just two reasons that the man and his movies cannot be divorced from his crime.

I’m not saying that we shouldn’t watch Polanski’s films or appreciate them when appreciation is due.

What I am saying is simply this: Even the most talented artist is a man first and an artist second, and until he pays society the debt that he owes, Polanski should be known only secondarily as a talented director.

Primarily, he should be known as a fugitive and an unpunished rapist.

I’m also saying that no positive review or discussion of a Polanski film should end without a simple caveat — stop giving the man Oscars and give him something he deserves much more instead: some well-earned jail time.

Contact the Diversions Editor at dive@unc.edu.