October 5, 2009--Culture Rage

Many in the media may have declared the end of the Culture War but the rage lingers on.

Cases in point—the reactions to the reactions among many of the Hollywood elite after Roman Polanski’s detention and possible extradition for his confessed rape of a 13-year-old child and the outrage at the snickering behavior by sophisticates after David Letterman’s jokey admission that he has had sexual relations with members of his staff.

Fellow directors Martin Scorsese, Ethan Coen, Pedro Almodóvor, and that paragon of propriety Woody Allen, who ran off with an eventually married his stepdaughter, leapt to Polanski’s defense, claiming either that the rape occurred so long ago (in 1977) that he had already “suffered enough” or, since he is such a great artist he should be forgiven his transgressions. Great artists, you see, should be allowed to live by their own moral code unlike the rest of us schleppers.

But when the likes of that great jurist Whoopi Goldberg said he should be allowed to run free because, in her words, “I do not believe it was rape-rape,” the outrage at this casual permissiveness was too much for just-plain-folks to handle. There has been such a backlash against these Hollywood and New York City types that even Whoopi, who prides herself on her tell-it-like-it-is integrity, has been backing off. Perhaps ever mindful of who her View viewers are. Concern about ratings and your paycheck have a way of getting people such as Woopi to rethink their strongly held beliefs.

If you want to judge for yourself if it was or wasn’t rape-rape, I encourage you, I urge you to read the transcript of the 13-year-old girl’s 1977 testimony that is linked below. Especially the second part where she offers a graphic and totally believable account of her night with Polanski at Jack Nicholson’s house. Yes, at his house on Mulholland Drive. Though she has since asked that Roman Polanski no longer be prosecuted, her story of Polansk’is creepy seduction and rape, over her protests, is more chilling than any scene from his Rosemary’s Baby.

And on the subject of his films, if there is a case to be made (and there isn’t) that artists should be permitted to follow their own moral compass and be forgiven their felonious behavior because great artists are different than you and I and are essential to the propagation of the culture that every society requires, let us remind ourselves that Polanski is far from a great artist. Yes, his early Knife In the Water is a distinguished film, but Rosemary’s Baby? Repulsion? Even his Academy Award winning Chinatown? Good films they are. Well done pieces of entertainment for certain, but to call any of them art, to want to excuse him from raping a 13 year-old because of this oeuvre, is a sorry state of affairs.


We’re not talking the Sistine Chapel. Or the Jupiter Sympathy. And even if we were, the rage surrounding the Polanski’s sordid affair is not only understandable but also justified.

As is the reaction to Letterman’s very clever monologue the other night when he not only told about the extortion plot he foiled but also acknowledged, to his audience’s laughter and applause, that he had had his way with (many?) female members of his staff. But not to worry, we were assured the next day, his production company, Worldwide Pants (oh, how clever a name), does not have sexual harassment rules that forbid such behavior. It might be that in your or my company or organization we can’t, appropriately, even make an off-color joke in the presence of co-workers, great men such as Dave are allowed to live by a different set of rules. Wouldn’t it be a shame, we are being led to believe, if they had to behave like the rest of us. They are so special, so gifted that all should be forgiven them. Talented boys, after all, will be boys; and we shouldn’t get in the way of their creativity.

Ironically, many progressives who have been in the forefront of insisting on the establishment and strict enforcement of sexual harassment laws and rules are among those most amused by Letterman’s clever management of the situation. “Wouldn’t it be good if our politicians handled their own missteps as openly and cleverly,” I have heard some say. “Just get it out there and it will become a 24-hour story. The news cycle will move on.”

So it is no wonder that folks living between the coasts are in a rage. So much so that it is spilling over into other areas, including into the political arena where there is growing frustration and anger about some of Barack Obama’s alleged behavior. Much of it simply made up by ideologues and bigots—why is he going out for dates with his wife or taking any vacation time when so many are unemployed are among the most benign of the criticisms. They have conveniently forgotten that George Bush spent fully one-third of the days of his presidency clearing brush and riding his trail bike at his ranch in Crawford, Texas. But he at least was pretending to be one of us.

But these Obama-haters got so tangled up in the rage on Friday that they literally cheered when America, sorry, Chicago, did not get to host the 2016 Olympics. These otherwise super-patriots, as they delighted in Obama’s alleged failure, forgot for the moment that they are Americans and that their country lost the games. And they even forgot one of their cherished country’s most venerable verities—that it’s not just about winning and losing but how well you play the game. But in our current Era of Rage anything an Obama touches is by definition vilified and despised.

Sad and dangerous but he Polanskis and Letteremans and their supporters aren’t helping.