I don't think he's coming back:
Harvey Weinstein is boarding a private jet Tuesday night, bound for a rehab center in Europe for sex addiction ... sources connected with the former mogul tell TMZ.
We're told Harvey has decided to take the advice of the people around him and leave immediately. We're told he will enter a live-in facility and will deal both with sex and other behavioral issues.
Extradition may not be one of the behavioral issues in question, but it wouldn't surprise me. If half of the reporting about ol' Harvey is accurate, he really ought to be in jail. But I suspect he'll be hanging with Roman Polanski instead.
Of course, other people see the bigger picture:
Hollywood-style debauchery is a very old story. The sensational trials of Fatty Arbuckle are almost a century in the rearview mirror now. I recently read a book about the still-unsolved murder of William Desmond Taylor, essentially from the same era, which goes into detail about the murder, the various stars and hangers-on around the case, and the studio executives who saw the dangers the moral scolds provided to their nascent industry. What happened in 1922 isn't terribly different than what's been going on in the Weinstein cases.
I don't care about that world; I'm not part of it and never wanted to be. Nor do I have any brief for moral scolds. Watching Weinstein get his comeuppance is pure schadenfreude. And for me, it's less about Weinstein than it is about his dwindling supply of defenders, who were all too ready to give Weinstein a pass on his behavior as long as he made successful movies and kept the political donations coming. All that is over now.