Already seen on HBO (and in Washington Heights for one week last March), Zenovich’s gripping play-by-play of Polanski’s 1977 sex-offense trial deserves a wider viewership; this theatrical run is significant. The temptation to view the director’s plight as Kafkaesque is indulged, and fairly so. An egomaniacal trial judge created a legal quagmire better suited to the last act of Chinatown. But Zenovich’s film goes even deeper, portraying a clash of cultures between antihedonist Americans and, it must be said, a rather naive European who saw nothing wrong in what he was doing in that hot tub. Fascinating.