Ghosts

The film Ghost Writer caught my attention for the following reasons, and in this order: Pierce Brosnan, Ewan McGregor, and Roman Polanski. The first two are obvious; I've been gushing over the two like a teenage girl on and off in this little space. And the third? Let's just say it's me rediscovering Polanski again, after falling in love with The Pianist in 2002.

Polanski, a Polish director, had been in the news on and off recently, after he was arrested in September 2009 as he was traveling to get a lifetime achievement award given him by the Zurich Film Festival. He was under house arrest in Switzerland for months; allowed to return to his home in France only recently, when Switzerland ultimately refused to extradite him to the United States.

The story of this arrest goes as far back as 1977when Polanski was charged for having sex with a minor. The girl, obviously now a woman, has since forgiven him and has advocated for the charges against him to be dropped. The warrant of arrest is still standing and Polanski still refuses to return to the United States. He famously didn't attend the Oscar Awards in 2002, when he won as Best Director for The Pianist.

Of course, the story of this particular arrest may go back a little further, to 1969, when his pregnant wife, actress Sharon Tate, was murdered in his home. Later, he would write in his autobiography that her murder changed his outlook to one of “ingrained pessimism” and “eternal dissatisfaction with life.”

I devoted a significant amount of space to Polanski's life story because I see much of it reflected in The Ghost Writer.

Adam Lang (Brosnan), former British prime minister, seemingly lives in exile in the United States as a political storm starts brewing back at home, at the other side of the pond. He is a disgraced public figure, now accused of being possible involvement in war crimes.

Lang is in the thick of writing his autobiography, at first with the help of a ghostwriter, whose body had just washed up on the shore of Martha's Vineyard. McGregor's character, who is never named, is hired as the replacement. It could be surmised that an autobiography would help him with the media maelstrom and clean up his PR. But The Ghost—never mind if he'd been making a living by ghostwriting for celebrities and was, thus, not a “proper writer,” and never mind if his apparent emotional uninvolvement is only overpowered by curiosity—does his job as the job should be done. He does his research and, like his predecessor, eventually discovers a secret that could cost him his life.

The mess that Lang has to deal with echoes much of the tussle Polanski has been involved in since he fled to France in the late 1970s. The clear and present gloom that hangs all throughout the film—the dark clouds; the rain; the palpable inescapability of each and everyone's doomed fate, despite their attempts to escape through murder, legal maneuvering, seduction, practiced charm, even wit—reveals a director's hand that has seen it all and can weave it into one compelling story.

And even as much of the film appears to be infused with the director's real life, there is even more of real life politics that flavors it: The Ghost Writer also mirrors the life of former British prime minister Tony Blair and his alleged involvement in war crimes. But that's another story within a story within a story.

Dead men tell no tales, they say. Well, ghosts make for some saucy ones.

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