All of the dynamics between the characters ring true – the complicated friendship-turned-collaboration between Jasenovec and Yi, the romance developed between Yi and Cera, and all of Yi’s heartfelt interviews about love with people across the nation. By the end, it all just feels so satisfyingly honest.

The main reason? “It was so long ago!” The other reason? Well, let’s let Polanski explain that one to us:

“I can remain silent no longer because the request for my extradition addressed to the Swiss authorities is founded on a lie,” writes Polanski, who blames Marina Zenovich’s HBO documentary Roman Polanski: Wanted and Desired for stirring up career-mongering LA prosecutors into acting on his long dormant case.

Oh, of course. The Wanted and Desired documentary from 2008…Which, as illuminating as it was, didn’t exactly vilify Polanski as much as it should or could have. It was fairly balanced as far as “telling both sides” goes. And it even ended with a close friend of the director’s saying – oh so poetically – how Polanski became “wanted” in the U.S. after he fled his crime, and then “desired” in France/Europe (but particularly France, with their odd glamorization and defensiveness of him). This seemed to me as if the documentary might be ultimately glorifying Polanski as some sort of misunderstood but irresistible legend – which sounds a hell of a lot better than “pervert-turned-fugitive who fled his rape crime.”

You can download Polanski’s full statement here. It’s basically everything you’ve already heard from the “Free Polanski” crowd but with added melodrama – as Polanski highlights the “injustices” of his case with the prefaced statement in bold, “I can remain silent no longer because…”

Best part:

I can remain silent no longer because I have been placed under house
arrest in Gstaad and bailed in very large sum of money which I have
managed to raise only by mortgaging the apartment that has been my
home for over 30 years, and because I am far from my family and unable to
work.

Aside from the fact that I just don’t give a…, this heap of “boo-hoo-poor-me” B.S. completely contradicts Polanski’s opening sentences: “I have had my share of dramas and joys, as we all have, and I am not going to try to ask you to pity my lot in life.” No. That’s exactly what you’re doing. And that’s exactly what everyone in support of you has been doing since September.

And ahhh yes. The media is just “out to get” Polanski. To make an example of him. Yeah. That’s it. Sure, the media loves it. But what really happened is that the U.S. finally ARRESTED him for his RAPE CRIME. I mean, some people agree with me on this, right?!

Oh, and then this happened on indieWIRE:

While I object to people who suggest that Polanski never did anything terribly wrong—he did—I do think that at his advanced age he bears little threat to anyone and has been punished, served time, and should be able to break out of this impasse. Was he a libertine and a reprobate, did he behave criminally and break the law? Yes. I’d like to see him cop to what he did. But this case is old and cold. There must be a way to fix this.

By the way, The Ghost Writer was one of Polanski’s best, sharpest, most personal films in a long while. I want to see him make more films.

Really, Anne Thompson?

And with that, I’ve unfortunately exhausted most words that I can muster up for this argument. All I have left to say is this:

I can remain silent no longer because Roman Polanski is a rapist who never served time for raping a 13-year-old girl; because I don’t care how old he is, or how long ago it was; because as The New Yorker explored, Polanski relished girls who were minors and showed no remorse for raping or engaging in sex with them; because someone needs to put his old, perverted, privileged, “above-statused” ass in jail already; because anyone who still thinks Polanski is either innocent or should be “let go” of the case needs to seriously reevaluate themselves; and because really – what’s not to understand?

'The Cove's' Rick O'Barry holds up his activist sign during their Oscar speech after winning Best Documentary Feature. (Academy Awards 2010)

Just a photo-of-the-day sort of post. I promise, a real post is coming soon. (For anyone who’s waiting for it, that is!)

Let me start off by clarifying one thing: I know this is about Black women’s hair. I also know I will never personally understand the stress and maintenance that many Black women go through with their hair. While I learned some things I didn’t know before the film, I found that – just by being a woman with hair – I was able to relate to a lot of what this doc portrayed. And for everyone else…I think you’ll definitely be entertained and informed.

Rock was inspired to make the documentary after one of his (adorable) young daughters asked him, “Daddy, how come I don’t have good hair?” The doc explores the topic of what it means to have “good” hair, largely through interviews with a diverse range of Black men and women – everyone from Ice-T to dermatologists to music video stars. (Yeah, apparently Ice-T gets his own category.) Oh, and did I mention Maya Angelou? She provides some brief insight on the topic as well.

There are a multitude of topics explored under the umbrella subject of “good hair.” Rock uses the diverse interviews for perspective, a hair convention performance contest for entertainment, and a trip to India for the back story of many African-American weaves.

Most interesting, perhaps, are the permeating themes that come up frequently at various points of the doc. One being the understanding or orientation that Black men already have to Black women’s hair. One interviewee commented on how Black men get this because they grew up with their mothers and sisters doing the same things every day. Actor Nia Long talked about how other men, such as white men, don’t understand her hair maintenance at all, and might even be scared of it as something unfamiliar to them.

On the other hand, another theme popped up – the notion that, as KRS-One says outright, ALL women strive to have long, straight “European” (a word frequently used in the film) hair. Ice-T says something to the effect of, “Let’s talk to all those famous white girls and see if THEIR long hair is real”…as a cutaway reveals Paris Hilton and her obvious blonde hair “extensions.”

This all comes to the realization that, no matter your ethnicity, hair is very important for most women. Whether it’s using chemical relaxer on what people offensively call “nappy” locks, or dying your hair bleach blonde regardless of your natural features, or refusing to cut your hair because its length has become a protective shield to you – hair has meaning for us females. As a completely bald woman with alopecia poignantly said in the doc:

I think hair is so important because our self-esteem is wrapped up in it.

From a white woman’s point of view, I know I’ve always been told that my hair looks better curly – in its natural state. I think a lot of white women hear that same thing, actually. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like enough people are telling Black women and girls that their hair is beautiful just the way it is. This is portrayed by the 3-year-olds getting their hair relaxed. Or the scene where one high school girl with a cute short Afro sits awkwardly as relaxed-haired women say they don’t think any woman can be taken seriously as a professional unless her hair is straightened.

One thing that’s brushed over in the film but comes up a lot when people talk about the film is the WHY. Why do Black women want straight hair? Why did people freak out when Solange Knowles cut off her hair? Why doesn’t the rest of the world accept Black hair in its natural state? These questions went largely unanswered, but the assumed answer that Chris Rock and his interviewees seemed to give is simply that Black hair is not understood by non-Black people.

The film offers not only humor, but empathy towards the subject of Black hair. However, I’m struggling to decide what the documentary does more – empathize and explain, or ridicule? I hope that – once more people see the film – the whole point of Chris Rock’s endeavor doesn’t become counterproductive.

What I’m saying is: While this is a movie about Black women’s hair, I think it’s important to remember that we shouldn’t go see this doc and then come out of it saying, “Wow, those women are CRAZY and spend SO much money on all this hair stuff! How ridiculous!” Instead, why don’t we take a step back, get past the laughs, learn a thing or two that we never thought about before, and also recognize that many women – regardless of race – do crap to their hair. Most of us women, let’s face it, abuse our hair for years and years, just to force it to be something that it’s not. And thank you, Chris Rock, for caring enough to take on that issue and portray it in a well-balanced light.

After some overly heavy analogies of the Roman Empire, the doc opens with a gripping home video of a family’s house being foreclosed. Foreclosure is the one subject in the documentary that Moore spends ample time on, and it proves to be effective and heart-wrenching.

It becomes apparent though how many subjects are brought up in such a short amount of time – everything from airline pilots making an astonishingly low annual income to the Republic Windows and Doors workers’ protest in Chicago last year. The result is usually a too-brief coverage of most issues. Oddly enough, the topic choices also felt sporadic and out of place, even though they all fit under the massive umbrella subject that is “the drawbacks of capitalism.” And yet, there were still issues he didn’t bring up at all.

I expected Moore to address the unemployment rates nationwide that happened due to the economic crisis. Instead, he focused here and there on Flint, Michigan (his hometown, a subject he’s been passionate about since the beginning of his career as a documentarian.) I also thought that surely Capitalism would address the issue that college students are facing now because of the crisis.  But aside from asking a few pilots about their massive college loans still to be paid off, Moore didn’t address this at all.

Ultimately, I felt like he left me hanging. Every story that he touched on briefly, I wanted to know more about it within the context of the documentary.

I don’t think it was a bad film, but I think it would’ve benefited from focusing on only a few topics expansively, as opposed to tiny snippets. Something like Hurricane Katrina, for instance, is too painful and socially critical to just brush over of at the very end of the film.

I’m not saying you won’t be interested in Capitalism: A Love Story – because you will be, for the most part. Though at times it might drone on during the least interesting parts (like a section dedicated to FDR), and feel rushed during the most captivating, Moore’s new documentary is worth watching. At least it’ll get you wanting to know more about the subjects he briefly introduces. And whether or not you’re a recent college graduate like I am, it will also piss you off. Really, really piss you off.