THE TENANT
Roman Polanski directed, wrote and/or starred in some of the most enjoyable films of the last sixty years, including Repulsion, Rosemary's Baby, Chinatown, Tess, Frantic, The Ninth Gate, The Pianist, and The Ghost Writer. Apartment life, demonology and stress are among his recurring themes. Often his films stand out for their playfulness, in the sense that a big toe on a small foot is playful. In his 1976 movie The Tenant, his playfulness doubles back on itself and ends up kicking the audience into mesmerizing terror.
Polanksi remains uncredited in the starring role of Trelkovsky, a Polish work-visa emigre living in Paris. While we never quite learn Trelkovsky's job, we see that it attracts a boorish bunch, including one lout who takes pleasure in playing bad music at all hours simply to annoy the sick woman who lives upstairs. And speaking of noise, the Egyptologist Simone Choule, the previous tenant in Trelkovsky's digs, must have made quite the crescendo as she fell from the apartment window and crashed through glass onto the sidewalk below. Even as Trelkovsky moves in, he begins a strange consumption with the story of Simone, despite not knowing her. He visits her in the hospital primarily to make sure that she will in fact die from her injuries in order that he may secure her apartment for himself. At the hospital he meets Stella, a friend of Simone. He tells her he knows Simone because that feels more proper than admitting he is ghoulishly waiting out her demise. He and Stella experience a quick and recurring fling, through which we learn that Simone was either a lesbian or, more likely, a man who dressed and lived as a woman.
Immediately the people the new tenant meets begin trying to fit him into the mold already established by Simone, including bringing him the same drink in the cafe, converting him to her brand of cigarettes, and even giving him a kiss from an intoxicated admirer who shows up to court Simone the day after she has died.
To reveal more of the story would be to risk spoiling it and this movie has some serious surprises, including an ending that will make a point of messing you up.
Although many people consider The Tenant to be a grand artistic success, there is nothing about the direction or cinematography in this film that jumps up and grabs or slithers out and gnaws at us. The best reason to watch the film again after all this time is because Polanski proves himself possessed of considerable theatrical charm, as well as being an actor capable of tremendous understated humor and thoroughly convincing nervousness. In one memorable scene in his freshly-rented apartment, Polanksi discovers a neighbor from upstairs complaining to him about the noise his boorish guests are making. The actor's character responds by blending magnanimous charm and paranoia into his reaction. He wants to maintain the good will of his coworkers and yet is desperate to avoid annoying the landlord. About a million screwed up ways exist to poorly communicate this unease. Polanksi selects the one appropriate style.
Another acting phenomenon in The Tenant is Shelley Winters, a woman who by this time had already won and earned two Academy Awards for Acting, the first in 1960 for The Diary of Anne Frank and the second in 1966 for A Patch of Blue, a woman who made significant contributions to Lolita, The Night of the Hunter, A Place in the Sun, and I Am a Camera, a woman who had, over the years, been reduced to playing a villain in the TV show "Batman," to starring in the Roger Corman film Bloody Mama --in the former she played Ma Parker and in the latter Ma Barker--to a great performance in a shit movie called The Poseidon Adventure. Shelley Winters takes the role of the concierge and makes it into the ambiguously sinister role of a lifetime. Is she a scheming, plotting, ambitious bitch or simply a tired, unfeeling crone with a fondness for the gruesome elements of life? This was her last truly great performance and she played it as if every second counted, which of course it does.
The film is not perfect. For instance, the title character's paranoia comes from an unexamined place, one which some clues materialize to inform, but none of which hang all that well together. To an extent, the motivation for the paranoia doesn't matter because we are all so caught up in the behavior of the actors on the screen. But again, it is the ambiguity that helps propel us ass over teakettle right alongside Polanski as he causes us to wonder if he might be the man the people in his office speak about from a newspaper article, if he might indeed have a connection to Simone that spills over into one of lifestyle (which might well explain his paranoia, given the crowd he attracts), or if people actually are messing with him about the noises coming from his apartment or if instead he is making those noises and he just doesn't remember doing it. Even the presumed flaws in the film project a strong sense of suspense that lingers beyond the swinging doors of the theatre.
And besides, Bruce Lee makes an appearance.
Polanksi remains uncredited in the starring role of Trelkovsky, a Polish work-visa emigre living in Paris. While we never quite learn Trelkovsky's job, we see that it attracts a boorish bunch, including one lout who takes pleasure in playing bad music at all hours simply to annoy the sick woman who lives upstairs. And speaking of noise, the Egyptologist Simone Choule, the previous tenant in Trelkovsky's digs, must have made quite the crescendo as she fell from the apartment window and crashed through glass onto the sidewalk below. Even as Trelkovsky moves in, he begins a strange consumption with the story of Simone, despite not knowing her. He visits her in the hospital primarily to make sure that she will in fact die from her injuries in order that he may secure her apartment for himself. At the hospital he meets Stella, a friend of Simone. He tells her he knows Simone because that feels more proper than admitting he is ghoulishly waiting out her demise. He and Stella experience a quick and recurring fling, through which we learn that Simone was either a lesbian or, more likely, a man who dressed and lived as a woman.
Immediately the people the new tenant meets begin trying to fit him into the mold already established by Simone, including bringing him the same drink in the cafe, converting him to her brand of cigarettes, and even giving him a kiss from an intoxicated admirer who shows up to court Simone the day after she has died.
To reveal more of the story would be to risk spoiling it and this movie has some serious surprises, including an ending that will make a point of messing you up.
Although many people consider The Tenant to be a grand artistic success, there is nothing about the direction or cinematography in this film that jumps up and grabs or slithers out and gnaws at us. The best reason to watch the film again after all this time is because Polanski proves himself possessed of considerable theatrical charm, as well as being an actor capable of tremendous understated humor and thoroughly convincing nervousness. In one memorable scene in his freshly-rented apartment, Polanksi discovers a neighbor from upstairs complaining to him about the noise his boorish guests are making. The actor's character responds by blending magnanimous charm and paranoia into his reaction. He wants to maintain the good will of his coworkers and yet is desperate to avoid annoying the landlord. About a million screwed up ways exist to poorly communicate this unease. Polanksi selects the one appropriate style.
Another acting phenomenon in The Tenant is Shelley Winters, a woman who by this time had already won and earned two Academy Awards for Acting, the first in 1960 for The Diary of Anne Frank and the second in 1966 for A Patch of Blue, a woman who made significant contributions to Lolita, The Night of the Hunter, A Place in the Sun, and I Am a Camera, a woman who had, over the years, been reduced to playing a villain in the TV show "Batman," to starring in the Roger Corman film Bloody Mama --in the former she played Ma Parker and in the latter Ma Barker--to a great performance in a shit movie called The Poseidon Adventure. Shelley Winters takes the role of the concierge and makes it into the ambiguously sinister role of a lifetime. Is she a scheming, plotting, ambitious bitch or simply a tired, unfeeling crone with a fondness for the gruesome elements of life? This was her last truly great performance and she played it as if every second counted, which of course it does.
The film is not perfect. For instance, the title character's paranoia comes from an unexamined place, one which some clues materialize to inform, but none of which hang all that well together. To an extent, the motivation for the paranoia doesn't matter because we are all so caught up in the behavior of the actors on the screen. But again, it is the ambiguity that helps propel us ass over teakettle right alongside Polanski as he causes us to wonder if he might be the man the people in his office speak about from a newspaper article, if he might indeed have a connection to Simone that spills over into one of lifestyle (which might well explain his paranoia, given the crowd he attracts), or if people actually are messing with him about the noises coming from his apartment or if instead he is making those noises and he just doesn't remember doing it. Even the presumed flaws in the film project a strong sense of suspense that lingers beyond the swinging doors of the theatre.
And besides, Bruce Lee makes an appearance.
ROMAN POLANSKI: WANTED AND DESIRED
No matter how much you think you know about the case charging unlawful sexual intercourse with a minor brought against Roman Polanski, this amazing film will surprise you.
The film, Roman Polanski: Wanted and Desired (2008) was directed by Marina Zenovich and does not suffer the same torturous exploitation as many HBO documentaries, probably because HBO had almost nothing to do with the movie. The credit for this movie's excellence goes to Zenovich, Antidote Films and the BBC. Credit must also go to former deputy District Attorney Roger Gunson and defense attorney Douglas Dalton, two men who emerged from the manipulated quagmire of Judge Rittenband's proceedings to share their feelings about a miscarriage of justice, not only for Polanski, but for the victim, Samantha Geimer, nee Gailey.
Obviously, if I tell you everything here, your interest in seeing the documentary may be diminished and that would be a shame because this fascinating film won for editing at Sundance, won at the National Board of Review, won twice at the Emmys, and was nominated several other times. Certainly it deserved every honor it has received. However, I think it is fair to admit that Zenovich weaves extremely rare file footage with interviews from most of the participants, including an extraordinarily pissed-off Philip Vannatter, whom you may recall from the witness stand in the televised trial of O. J. Simpson. This tapestry becomes more and more fascinating the longer we examine it.
Here are some points that are not in dispute:
Roman Polanski did have sexual intercourse with a thirteen year old girl at the home of actor Jack Nicholson in 1977. That was a crime. It was also wrong.
The prosecutor, Roger Gunson, was selected, the joke around town went, because he was the only man in the D.A.'s office at that time who had not had sex with an under-age girl. Today Gunson gives every appearance of being a thoughtful man who does not much cherish his time in the D.A.'s office.
The defense attorney, Doug Dalton, at all times put the interests of his client in the forefront of his efforts.
The trial judge, Laurence Rittenband, was experienced in high-profile Hollywood litigation and intended from the outset to control the media presentation of the proceedings.
The probation department recommended Polanski be given straight probation. This was one of several options available to the judge as part of the director's plea bargain arrangements. Instead, the judge sentenced him to ninety days observation at Chino State, where he would be evaluated by staff to determine a judicious outcome.
A court-appointed psychiatrist had already determined that Polanski was not a mentally ill sex offender.
Polanski was released by Chino after forty-two days. Their recommendation was probation.
Concerned that whichever way he ruled the press would skewer him, Judge Rittenband instructed the defense attorney to appear in court to argue for probation, while he also ordered the prosecutor to demand a harsher sentence.
Roman Polanski left the United States for France prior to sentencing because he was unwilling to accept the possibility that a crazy judge might sentence him to as much as fifty years in prison.
To tell more about the legal proceedings would be to give away too much.
Outside the courtroom, however, Zenovich hits on some interesting details, not least of which being the art of Mr. Polanski. And that is where one expects her to get into trouble. And yet she does not. At no point does Zenovich attempt to mitigate her subject's behavior. Polanski escaped the Nazis at the age of five, attended film school, made his first feature at a young age, was introduced to the actress Sharon Tate, and was putting the finishing touches on a film in Europe when he got the phone call of the murder of his wife and four others at the hands of the Charles Manson family.
She also quite wisely casts attention on the way Europe has chosen to experience the director of such films as Rosemary's Baby, Repulsion, Macbeth, Chinatown, The Tenant, Tess, The Ninth Gate, The Pianist, The Ghost Writer, and others.
But the real thrust of this exciting documentary is in the legal proceedings themselves. Zenovich, on the website for the film, makes this statement: "Samantha Geimer and her attorney appeared on Larry King Live [in 2003] where she publicly forgave Polanski. Her lawyer said something that night, which started my five-year odyssey. He said, ‘What happened that day, both to Polanski and to some extent the American judicial system, I really think it was a shameful day.’ What was he talking about? I knew that Polanski fled the country but I couldn’t imagine how or why Geimer’s lawyer thought that Polanski had been wronged. I was intrigued. I realized that the only way I was going to get to the truth was to talk to the people who were there. I soon discovered that 30 years on, this long misunderstood case still stirred extremely strong feelings. Having spoken to most of those involved, I discovered that Polanski fleeing the country has totally eclipsed what happened during the judicial proceedings. I also realized the case was tragic for everyone involved. Polanski remains in France, unable to return to the U.S. or countries that have an extradition treaty with the U.S. for unlawful sexual intercourse. Samantha Geimer will forever be known as ‘the girl who had sex with Roman Polanski.’ Both the prosecution and defense have expressed remorse regarding the way the case unfolded."
The film, Roman Polanski: Wanted and Desired (2008) was directed by Marina Zenovich and does not suffer the same torturous exploitation as many HBO documentaries, probably because HBO had almost nothing to do with the movie. The credit for this movie's excellence goes to Zenovich, Antidote Films and the BBC. Credit must also go to former deputy District Attorney Roger Gunson and defense attorney Douglas Dalton, two men who emerged from the manipulated quagmire of Judge Rittenband's proceedings to share their feelings about a miscarriage of justice, not only for Polanski, but for the victim, Samantha Geimer, nee Gailey.
Obviously, if I tell you everything here, your interest in seeing the documentary may be diminished and that would be a shame because this fascinating film won for editing at Sundance, won at the National Board of Review, won twice at the Emmys, and was nominated several other times. Certainly it deserved every honor it has received. However, I think it is fair to admit that Zenovich weaves extremely rare file footage with interviews from most of the participants, including an extraordinarily pissed-off Philip Vannatter, whom you may recall from the witness stand in the televised trial of O. J. Simpson. This tapestry becomes more and more fascinating the longer we examine it.
Here are some points that are not in dispute:
Roman Polanski did have sexual intercourse with a thirteen year old girl at the home of actor Jack Nicholson in 1977. That was a crime. It was also wrong.
The prosecutor, Roger Gunson, was selected, the joke around town went, because he was the only man in the D.A.'s office at that time who had not had sex with an under-age girl. Today Gunson gives every appearance of being a thoughtful man who does not much cherish his time in the D.A.'s office.
The defense attorney, Doug Dalton, at all times put the interests of his client in the forefront of his efforts.
The trial judge, Laurence Rittenband, was experienced in high-profile Hollywood litigation and intended from the outset to control the media presentation of the proceedings.
The probation department recommended Polanski be given straight probation. This was one of several options available to the judge as part of the director's plea bargain arrangements. Instead, the judge sentenced him to ninety days observation at Chino State, where he would be evaluated by staff to determine a judicious outcome.
A court-appointed psychiatrist had already determined that Polanski was not a mentally ill sex offender.
Polanski was released by Chino after forty-two days. Their recommendation was probation.
Concerned that whichever way he ruled the press would skewer him, Judge Rittenband instructed the defense attorney to appear in court to argue for probation, while he also ordered the prosecutor to demand a harsher sentence.
Roman Polanski left the United States for France prior to sentencing because he was unwilling to accept the possibility that a crazy judge might sentence him to as much as fifty years in prison.
To tell more about the legal proceedings would be to give away too much.
Outside the courtroom, however, Zenovich hits on some interesting details, not least of which being the art of Mr. Polanski. And that is where one expects her to get into trouble. And yet she does not. At no point does Zenovich attempt to mitigate her subject's behavior. Polanski escaped the Nazis at the age of five, attended film school, made his first feature at a young age, was introduced to the actress Sharon Tate, and was putting the finishing touches on a film in Europe when he got the phone call of the murder of his wife and four others at the hands of the Charles Manson family.
She also quite wisely casts attention on the way Europe has chosen to experience the director of such films as Rosemary's Baby, Repulsion, Macbeth, Chinatown, The Tenant, Tess, The Ninth Gate, The Pianist, The Ghost Writer, and others.
But the real thrust of this exciting documentary is in the legal proceedings themselves. Zenovich, on the website for the film, makes this statement: "Samantha Geimer and her attorney appeared on Larry King Live [in 2003] where she publicly forgave Polanski. Her lawyer said something that night, which started my five-year odyssey. He said, ‘What happened that day, both to Polanski and to some extent the American judicial system, I really think it was a shameful day.’ What was he talking about? I knew that Polanski fled the country but I couldn’t imagine how or why Geimer’s lawyer thought that Polanski had been wronged. I was intrigued. I realized that the only way I was going to get to the truth was to talk to the people who were there. I soon discovered that 30 years on, this long misunderstood case still stirred extremely strong feelings. Having spoken to most of those involved, I discovered that Polanski fleeing the country has totally eclipsed what happened during the judicial proceedings. I also realized the case was tragic for everyone involved. Polanski remains in France, unable to return to the U.S. or countries that have an extradition treaty with the U.S. for unlawful sexual intercourse. Samantha Geimer will forever be known as ‘the girl who had sex with Roman Polanski.’ Both the prosecution and defense have expressed remorse regarding the way the case unfolded."
