Roman Polanski: Roman Holiday

"Do you and Emmanuelle bicker?" I ask, hoping to lighten things up.

"What is this, 'bicker'?"

"You know, when couples talk to each other in this way, like, 'Oh you said this,' 'No, I said that,' and blah blah blah in a way that's a little cutting..."

"Why would you ask me this?"

"Because there's a tone in Bitter Moon that reminded me of some friends I call the Bickersons, and I was just wondering,"

"Did you like Bitter Moon?" he asks.

"It was flawed," I say delicately, "but it had its moments. My boyfriend, Steve, said it was his favorite kind of movie... you laugh your head off, and then go home and fuck your brains out."

Polanski chuckles. "And Emmanuelle," he says, "she was good, no?"

"You don't need me to tell you if Emmanuelle is good," I say. I'm such a diplomat.

"Did you like her in Frantic?"

"I'll tell you the truth, I was so distracted by Betty Buckley as Harrison Ford's wife in Frantic that everything paled by comparison. I think it was so cruel of you to cast her, because she looked like Harrison's mother. I mean, anybody would have looked bad next to Emmanuelle, but..."

"It was an idea we had," Polanski says, "that Harrison would be one of those doctors who married his college sweetheart and made his life with her. You know this type? But now I'm wondering if it was the right thing, if it brought something to the picture or not, you know? Betty Buckley's a good actress though."

"She's a terrific actress, but..."

"Now when you're telling me this I think probably it was a mistake." Polanski looks glum.

"I'm sorry," I say.

"You should not be sorry if it is the truth. You would not be the first one to tell me when things did not work. Listen, I have to go back to the mixing room."

"Please let me come. I love this part."

"Do you? The technical parts?" His look is leery.

"Yes. There's nothing more boring than when they're shooting a movie, but I love the mixing and the editing."

Polanski grabs my arm and steers me across the street. I think we've made up.

"This is my favorite part, too," he says. "I love making these decisions, where should this be, how loud is this sound, all those little details. You tell me when you're bored and I send someone to take you home."

For the next five hours, I watch as Polanski lays music and sound effects over what seems even at this stage a mesmerizing piece of filmmaking. Whenever he takes a break, we head into the cafeteria and chat.

"Maybe on Saturday I take you to EuroDisney," he says at one point. "I'm a great fan of Disneyland."

"You are?"

"Oh yes, the first time I was there with Fellini and his wife, Giulietta, It was my first time in America, I was nominated for the Academy Award for Knife in the Water, and he was nominated for 8½. And they gave us a trip to Disneyland, and we loved it."

"I'm trying to imagine Fellini in the tea cup..."

"What is this, the tea cup?"

"Forget it," I say.

"Oh, we all loved it. We had great fun. I remember we were in the boat. But we won't have time anyway." He looks genuinely disappointed.

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