ROMAN POLANSKI
'For as far back as I can remember, the line between fantasy and reality has been hopelessly blurred'
Surviving a war is no mean feat. Especially if it's in German occupied Poland, as a Jew. A life of fear, wondering where the next meal is coming from, where you will sleep from night to night and the deep sense of foreboding when your parents disappear from your life, perhaps never to return. Spending formative years in this arena would create a MAC10 survival intensity. Roman Polanski's early years were spent doing just this.
Born in Paris in 1933 to Polish parents, and returning to Poland at the age of three, he would be outrunning Hitler's anti-Jew campaign by the age of eight. He was placed with other families outside of the Krakow ghetto erected by Hitler to confine the Jews. Still an outcast, he was unable to attend school and would be dealt with differently to other children in the home. Psychologically, the whole experience could be nothing but traumatic; leaving scars that would become evident later in adult life; his fierce perfectionist traits a symptom of such a beginning.
It is these factors that have given us Roman Polanski. A force to be reckoned with both professionally and personally; a marvel in the director's chair; a man without limits or boundaries.
Drawn to the cinema and film from an early age, with a great aptitude for art at school (other subjects didn't appeal, or in one particular case did appeal because it was taught by a not too bad looking female tutor) set the foundations for his ability to visualise and create an artful aspect to a film as well as his penchant for women!
Polanski had the drive and desire which was lacking in others. In an 'any which way you can' style he would get himself in the right place at the right time, gaining experience and, with an insurmountable degree of confidence and a sharp tongue, became involved in as many areas as possible including radio. He struggled for a place in film school because of his poor academic record, but managed to get in to the Lodz Film School. Polanski, by no means stood physically apart from the crowd, he was of small stature and gained a notorious reputation for his outspokenness and caustic tongue which cost him a friend or two.
The restrictions of the communist regime understandably frustrated Polanski and his growing outspokenness no doubt frustrated those in positions of power. He had worked on shorts, provoking controversy with his ideas and content, which haunted much of his chosen genre, including voyeurism and violence. Following this was a collaboration with Gerard Brach (a mainstay in his life to come) on an idea for a full length film Knife in the Water (1962). Directing this picture put Polanski on the European cinematic map, not least for its eventual Oscar nomination for best foreign film category in 1963 once it had crossed the water to the US. This would lead to a first-hand taste of America and its film market.
Having escaped the stifling air of Poland, Polanski lived between Paris and London, working and playing hard, struggling like only a professional survivor could. He was, however, never one to sit still and there would always be a project simmering in the background. The next to come was Repulsion (1965), again collaborating with Brach. This established him more firmly in the dark, psychological realms of film, with the obligatory voyeuristic view of a beautiful female, for which he became renowned, in the shape of Catherine Deneuve. Repulsion shows Polanski's style of cutting lines in favour of action and a different camera view, enhancing the dark and haunting feeling of the film. He liked to work in close up, from an artistic angle, and included interesting symmetrical shots which were extremely innovative given the restrictions on technology at the time.
His pursuit of excellence and perfection became a notable characteristic, often taken to the extreme - to the horror or even bemusement of those involved. Almost without exception Polanski would be overbudget and overrun.
Cul-de-sac (1966) and Fearless Vampire Killers (1967) were very much in the same vein, involving countless takes, a maximum of 70 for one scene has been reported. If his films didn't hit the spot, he would come back with a vengeance. It is this that gave him his reputation as a 'maverick' director, and stands him apart from many others.
"Every failure made me more confident. Because I wanted even more to achieve as revenge. To show that I could."
The evidence for this quote is in Rosemary's Baby (1968). Polanski's obsession with the darker side of life, a representation of his own psyche perhaps, is shown as its best here - not least because of the cast (which included Mia Farrow who was then dating Frank Sinatra), its dark and horrifying depiction of possession, and Polanski's usual exasperating quest for perfection. We will never know if these specifics possibly played a hand in future unfortunate events; his desire for perfection perhaps leading him into murkier waters than he had intended. As part of his research he enlisted the help of a member of the Church of Satan, Anthony LeVay, to bring a real sense of the sacrificial process featured in the film's storyline. The result was his best film yet. However, his own idiosyncratic approach to perfection may have bought on dire consequences when his pregnant wife, Sharon Tate, was killed in their home by followers of cult leader Charles Manson. This would have a profound affect on Polanski's work.
Sharon Tate's murder was shocking, and it managed to seep through Polanski's iron webbing, not least because of the guilt he felt over his absence at the scene of the crime (he was busy working on a script in London). Sharon had always encouraged him to be himself (including his infidelities); she gave him a long leash and he, of course, made the most of it.
Given that he had made a film a year for four years, the three year gap gives some credence to the fact that he did stop for a while at least to reassess. He came back with Macbeth (1971). Though after the bloody murder that had just imprinted itself on Polanski's life, it could be said that the choice of Macbeth was perhaps a little insensitive. However, others would say that there is some truth in Polanski's use of films as a cathartic outlet. This would be a prime example.
"I don't really know what is shocking. When you tell the story of a man who is beheaded, you have to show how they cut off his head. If you don't, it's like telling a dirty joke and leaving out the punch line. "
The biggest and the last film Polanski made in America was to be the quintessential film noir, Chinatown (1974). It is a monumental film that Polanski will always be remembered for, bringing in six Oscar nominations and starring the exceptional actor Jack Nicholson as Jake Gittes, it was destined to be a success from the start. All this was good stuff and Polanski was positively revelling in the glory and attention. Once again, this was to be blighted by the somewhat shady rape allegations which Polanski dealt with in a style only he knew. Playing with a somewhat corrupt judicial system was no mean feat but he was not phased, showing his fearlessness by hanging around to see it through. After a while, it became obvious that he was not to be treated fairly and his arrogant style was not being viewed too just ly by those deciding his fate. He didn't hang around and has never returned to the US, preferring to remain in exile in France. Once again, in his inimitable style he stood up to an organisation that most would wilt at the sight of. He had used the negative in his favour, causing uproar and fodder for the media which could only enhance his fame and notoriety.
Whilst Macbeth and Chinatown showed a more grown-up and channelled style the fact that he was restricted to working in France, though still obtaining American backing, did cause frustrations much the same as those suffered at the start of his career. He came back with Tess (1979), yet again a truly cathartic piece, about a raped and wronged young girl.
Polanski had appeared to be on a sure ride to success but after these two major events in his life, he still got out there and made films but to little avail. Maybe his own overwhelming doggedness, whatever the consequences, had finally come round full circle to greet him. He had burnt many bridges by this point, his travel was limited, and settings had to suit the budget and the latest film he was toiling over. He did, however, manage to obtain American backing for Frantic (1988), either because of or in spite of his notoriety, and employed a young Harrison Ford to take the lead. It provided little headway in his career.
After Bitter Moon (1992), which starred his young wife Emmanuelle Seigner and which seemed to be a return to his old style of voyeurism and violence, he took a long break and did some soul searching. Being a father may have been prompted thoughts of his own childhood and its devastation, the violence, hunger, hatred and anger (he had lost his mother to the gas chambers of Auschwitz). Was there something he needed to be letting go of? The Pianist (2002) without doubt holds an element of Polanski's early life, but it also harnesses emotion, in the relationship between a Jewish pianist and a German captain in a war torn Poland. It showed that we are capable of humane acts even when we are surrounded by barbarism. A connection forced in the starkness of war, and the reality that we cannot all hold up an iron mask eternally, and marked Polanski's maturation professionally and personally.
Still unable to return to the US and not wishing to, 71-year-old Polanski continues to woo us with his talent, this time with his version of Oliver Twist - an unforgettable fable from Charles Dickens of a young orphan boy's survival. Again, not too far a cry from his own experiences, which could also signify another masterpiece and Oscar nomination in the offing.
"I can only say that whatever my life and work have been, I'm not envious of anyone--and this is my biggest satisfaction."