One can garner soft information from the carefully staged and propted baby picture of RP. Roman's tiny left hand is indifferent to the Teddy Bear on the Bauhaus white box (extraordinarily modern and avant garde for 1935). The look on young boychik's face, glitch, ready to nose dive, precociousness intact. Standing like a little man, spatially, a czar and Hollywood Caesar.

Writing about Roman Polanski is tough. He is not an average person, he will be remembered with the same revere as Beethoven or Tolstoy. He is a person who has risen above horrific conditions, He has suffered harassment from 40's Nazis, and in the present day, morality avengers of the Untied States local and federal government.

Boychik grew up surrounded by coven of yenta witches, in Krakow. His father (Rszyard Liebling) was a Marxist. The Liebling house was full of adoring aunts and extended family. He had a brief moment in the sunlight, until the Nazis marched into town.

Boychik's life changed fast in 1939 when the Nazis invaded Poland. He was like baby eagle, thrown from a loving nest on a magic mountain, into the depths of the Krakow ghetto. Ghetto police, SS, used Roman for target practice once, making him hold up chunks of rotting wood as Luger fodder.  

Roman was never in Auschwitz, but his mother (Bula) died there. His father survived the war in another concentration camp. RP's dad loved Roman like moon rays. One night Rszyard did a quick change act on the SS, smuggling 6 year old Roman out of the Krakow Ghetto into hiding with a  goy family of farmers in the Polish Forest. The spartan goys were freaked out by the glitzy street hustler of the Krakow ghetto. One night, with no regards for poor Roman's safety, the putzes gave him a few stale Kuklas, and threw him into the forest. Over the next few years, while other kids were in grammar school, RP was running from the Nazis, eating roots in an underworld tail spin and black haze of Gestapo and SS terrorism.

Aside: The author sincerely believes and states from his heart, that Roman Polanski running from the Nazis as a boy is enough. He should no longer have to run from Los Angeles County prosecutors. RP in his twilight years, should be allowed to live his life out in peace after what he has gone through. In modern day enlightened Europe at least they have enough sense to leave great artist alone.

At times Roman would hide in rural bush for days, sometimes hooking up with resistance fighters, carrying ammo and supplies for them on his back. Other times RP would go it alone, hiding behind velvet curtains in small theatres. It was in these country-side Polish movie houses, lying alone, hallucinating from hunger and neglect that RP began to put himself into a trance state to escape realty, while taking in Polish film through every nerve and pore. He connected through trance and self hypnotism to his future life and never looked back, knowing with vision and soul that he would survive the Nazis. 

Roman would project the x-ray images he received in the hiding places into screenplays and film. When the war was over RP began to live a more structured life, in a more secure world (gross understatement). Still terrorized by dreams of his past. 

Roman knew right away that he wanted to make films and by 1954, still living in Poland he was accepted in the Lodz Film School.  He began making films with a small hand held camera. Simple, spartan, black and white images of lust, hate and physical torture played out in a circularly plots, at times doled out with paucity. 

Roman's boyhood with the SS made him one tough and mildly sadistic cookie. Visualise the scene in 'Chinatown' where he slits JJ Gillie's nose with a stiletto, very convincingly. There was a weird realty in the bit, and you can see Nicholson was freaked out for real, Roman would always go for real terror if he could get it from his actors. His first film circa 1953 'Rozbijemy Zabawe' (Bust Up the Dance) was part art happening and pre-reality show of sorts. RP paid the local Krakow mafia to come in and bust up a Lodz dance and filmed it. Roman was inventing dark, absurdest cinema and shaking off SS violence. 

By 1958 Roman split Poland for the Left Bank of Paris. He started making independent films. As always walking on the dark side, Rogue Morgue Avenue blue velvet and rusted iron. While in Paris he did allot of  short film work, One stand out  was 'La Gros et el Maigre', a tough love affair. The short film garnered international attention and won awards. Film Noir was prevalent during Roman's period in Paris. But Roman Polanski's dark cinema of the absurd was original, he was no Goddard copy cat.

Romans first feature length film was released in 1962 "A Knife in The Water" a simple, three act and out psycho- drama about a couple who invite a hitchhiker to go sailing and mentally abuse him for kicks. Roman would do screenplay work as well as direct here, a trend he would follow through his film career. RPs first hand knowledge and experience of sadism at the hands of the SS, drove him to strive for dark realism and true to form terror on the set. At one point during filming "A Knife in the Water" he pulled a Lugar of his pocket and fired it into the air. Roman then picked up a bullwhip and started cracking it, like a circus master, creating a mood of stark reality. He received a "Best Foreign Language Film" nomination at the Oscars for "A Knife in The Water". Evidence of how talented young Roman was. The attention RP garnered began to feed his image as a infant terrible and hellion.

Bored with Paris, RP moved to 'glitz capital' USA, Hollywood in 1965. He experimented in the B movie genre of horror-film schlock, and ganja vision. "Dance of The Vampires", a Polanski experiment stared Sharon Tate. The two opposites met and fell in love. She was gentle, peaceful, self aware and easy going. Qualities that soothed and nurtured Romans dark side and fear driven nature.

Roman Polanski was and is a very hardworking filmmaker, leaving little to chance, but never closing the door on spontaneous psycho drama. RP made two films in the United States of significance, "Rosemary's Baby" and "Chinatown". "Chinatown" is held up as a kind of "filmmakers' film" and "sacred cow" like "Citizen Kane". You can't argue its beatitude in film history, but it always puts FL to sleep. "Rosemary's Baby" is RPs greatest film. A great expression of New York City urban sophistication, stylishness, and the most realistic interpretation of a witches coven imaginable. Roman set the standard for devil films with "Rosemary's Baby". For Christ sack, he lived through true world hell at the hands of the Nazi devils. His choice of Mia Farrow and John Cassevetes (a genius director in his own right), for the lead roles was magnificent.  

By the late 60s, Roman and Sharon Tate were "jet setters" rich artist couriers, harbingers of fashion, beautiful people. These labels and the lifestyle are outdated for the most part today. The couple was part of a very select group of Hollywood A list hippies. People like the hair stylist Jay Sebring (who gave Steve McQueen his great Caesar style cuts), Jack Nicholson, Marlin Brando, Harry Dean Stanton, Michelle Phillips, Dennis Hopper. On the low end of the late 60s LA hippie chain was the bum and pussy, Charlie Manson. Charlie's Drano sucking coven broke into Roman's house while he was away. Susan Atkins, Tex, Linda all dumb fucked, burned out minds bent on hypno voodoo 666, cut up Sharon Tate with a buck knife on an evil lark, high and blind. Appalling, even more so because Sharon was pregnant. Sharon Tate was a nice person who loved everyone, not a snob. FL thinks? If there is God? For fuck sack, there just couldn't be, but? What type of twisted karma? God as the planet fucker lets good people attract evil dope devils and violent unwarranted death. Consider also, that Sharon's baby never saw the light of day. Buddhist monks would say that Roman's unborn baby had good karma not to face what Roman had to face at the hands of the SS and Gestapo. The monks would also say that Sharon and Romans angel baby will be lucky to miss out on the  horrific extremes that we the living will face in the twenty-first century.

Aside: In the deepest part of my silent inner green forest, sometimes I wonder why anyone would bring a child into this out of control planet?  Baby's as gold charms? Selfish emotional needs?. The planet Earth is like a runaway CARBON-BANK TRAIN that is taking the planet down while spewing a few cheap tricks for the rich, schmucks like the Getty family, oil and sultan monsters. I don't hate the rich, there are some green rich, and very good hearted rich. But the modus that perpetuates carbon depedence, just another buck to be made on oil at the Merch, is what will do us all in.

Of course Roman was shattered by the brutal, unfounded and sadistic executions. The murder tragedy broke Roman's "green twig". RP's life without his mother, friend, lover and muse, Sharon Tate would gravitate into a series of "acts of denial". Roman found himself unable to deal with the bile in his heart. Like many, he turned to partying, the escape of excess. Fame, beauty, talent and jet set lifestyle gave him access to the best coca, booze, women, scenes, exotic locations available.

(Circa 1974, after the release of "Chinatown")

One such exotic location, A list fun house of sorts was Jack Nicholson's house on Mulholland Dr.… A modest enough bachelor pad, coca villa and peace palace that shared a circular drive way with a similar style house owned my Marlin Brando. When it came to sexual bravado and overall freakishness, Brando the wing nut gladiator had a most peculiar outlook.

But let's get back to the Jack man's pad. Brando preferred to fuck and dope up alone, but Jack man enjoyed having  pals around. With a mind like a squirrel, the Jack man would always keep separate stashes of booze, coca and weed. The B and D grade stashes were for women, screenwriters, critics, Mexican gardeners and cops. A grade stash was for women he wanted to fuck and close pals like Art Garfunkel, Roman Polanski and Lou Adler.

Jack man's house was an ongoing party house for the select that were allowed past security at the front gate. Roman had open invitation to Jack man's house and was welcome at any of the "hip" Hollywood party houses of the Aquarius era. Roman was using on a daily basis, still trying to lock out his pain. RP got a call from Jack man one afternoon, Roman was sitting in the bar of the Beverly Wilshire Hotel. Jack told him that an aspiring actress wanted to audition for him and would like to meet Roman at Jack man's house that night. Roman was half in the bag by the afternoon already. Jack man was going to New York that evening so Polanski could have the fuck nest on Mulholland Dr. to himself for the budding stars audition.

Aside: The Jack man had no ideal what was going on and was duped by (Vickys) mother as was Roman. In no way  does  FL's story allude to any guilt or wrong doing on the part of Jack man Nicholson.

Roman went straight from the Beverly Wilshire Hotel to Jack man's coca lounge. Roman was on a bender and wasn't eating. Once comfortably settled into the palace RP garnered all the A grade  stash and opened a bottle of Hennessy Cognac. RP was laying on the living room floor, strung out, when the guest bell rang at the front gate. Roman looked out the window and noticed an older women in a Cadillac dropping off a young women at the gate. She was allowed into the yard by security, Roman met her at the front door. 

Let's call her Vicky. Vicky was a very mature 14 year old who looked 20 years old. Her mother, the beard, was a grifter and set the hook using Vicky as squid. Vicky was no virgin, she had been pimped since she was 12 to feed mamas heroin habit. Vicky and Roman smoked some weed and drank cognac. Roman was in a blue haze, after very little conversation he invited her to the hot tub in Jack man's back yard. There was no talk of audition or future film projects. More over, there was a jaded romp, coca on the genitals, oral sex and a fuck in the tub. Roman was so loaded he didn't know if Vicky was 60 or 14. After a hot shower and a couple of shots of Russian Vodka, Vicky called her mom to pick her up. Roman gave her $1500 for the romp. 

This is not a case of pedophilia, Vicky's  mother was a fucking vulture and Roman was duped. Later Vicky's mother received a further settlement from Roman which went up her arm. Vicky has exonerated Roman years ago and just wants to live a normal life, after being raised by a demon.

When word got out that Vicky was only 14, the LA County prosecutor indicted Roman for having sex with a minor. 

During the years of the Reagan Governorship, there was a movement by Orange County conservatives, Walt Disney  Gene Audry and John Birch to bust Hollywood's A list hippies. The heat was put on LA Vice and Narco squads to bust the "hippy" movie stars. Roman knowing the right wing Reagan and John Birch squares would throw the book at him as example, skipped bail and split for Europe. Roman is a unique personality in that his time spent in the Krakow Ghetto, sadistically persecuted by the SS and Gestapo left him with a phobic mania and deep fear of being locked up. 

Once settled in France, a country that has more understanding about the nature of sex and love as it is, not as is written in law books. Roman continued to direct. 

Aside: Two films which are standouts "Tess" a adaption of a Thomas Hardy novel, staring Roman's new girl friend,  Natasha "Hot Lips" Kinski, was a lovely romp with the feel of "love in the potato patch on the Tolstoy commune". The second film worth mentioning is "The Pianist" autobiographical, a Jew running from the Nazis in World War II. This was Adrian Brody's break out film and Roman captures the freakishness and fear of being on the run from the Gestapo immaculately. 

In closing, a breif defence of Roman Polanski by Marshal Dillon and Chester. Let's make two lists, split a page in half and on the first slice write the names of all who have enjoyed and benefited from the art of this gifted human being Roman Polanski. And on the second slice, list the names of those two or three who might have suffered from Roman's misguided lust, which is iffy at best. Now, list the names of all those who want to put Roman Polanski in the Puritan's Pit. 

Do the addition or subtraction and take the liberty to judge for yourself and ask yourself the question "Does Roman really deserve to be judged by a rat fink, like Michael Douglas, whose jack ass self preceeds him? Or other Putitans?

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