Showing posts with label Crime. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Crime. Show all posts

Friday, April 27, 2018

We need to talk about Barry...


I want to get this first part out of the way so everyone who loves Bill Hader and loves Barry can read the rest of this blog with an open mind: I love Bill Hader, and I love HBO's new dark comedy, Barry. When I saw the first preview, I knew I was going to love it. Listless hitmen in dark comedies are my jam. Grosse Point Blank remains one of my favorite movies - and Bill Hader? Bill Hader is BILL HADER, he's fucking hilarious.

(spoilers galore -through episode 5)



So why do I feel so conflicted at the end of every episode?

The premise is that Barry is a Marine turned professional killer who has suddenly tired of all the killing and wants to become an actor. Hader explains this in a post show talk as "killing was the only thing he was good at." This trope fucking pisses me off. I'm not going to bother trying to be eloquent about it. Every video game, every movie, every thought someone has about a contract killer has to start with some veteran who discovered that "killing was the one thing I was good at" or "I was really good at killing."

Killing isn't a skill. You can kill yourself by accident. You can kill another person by hitting them with a car. Life is actually fairly fragile. Throughout the episodes that have aired so far, we only see Barry in one situation that looks anything like combat, and both he and the other veteran handle it like shit. He gets knocked out, and his Marine buddy runs in and puts both of them in insane danger. The rest of the time he's killing people in ways that are either fairly easy (with a gun, at close range) or would have nothing to do with combat at all (strangulation). So what they mean, when they repeat that Barry is good at killing, is that he is good at compartmentalizing the emotions that make it emotionally and morally difficult to kill people.

When we accept the trope that hitmen are veterans because veterans are "good" at killing people, we are accepting the idea that veterans are amoral. There's a fantastic scene where the students in Barry's acting class talk about how people who kill on orders from others are damaged and "psycho" and Barry, in a rare moment of real emotion, snaps back at them. He makes a pretty great point about how we view veterans, and the class seems to take something away from it - but the whole thing is undercut by the fact that in this context - the acting students are the rubes. The acting teacher (played by Henry Winkler) makes a joke at the end that reminds us, actually, Barry isn't talking about combat or attitudes toward veterans. He's talking about murder for hire. The point about respecting veterans, or understanding the moral complexities of war is a joke, not a statement.

Of the four Marine vets we spend time with, one has a relatively normal life. One we don't get to know, one is Barry, the hitman, and one is an abrasive, over the top drunk who lives for the opportunity to kill and be put in harm's way. Even the friend with the normal life is supposed to have found this after the military. At times, it feels like the show thinks people join the military, disappear into a black hole where they "lose part of (their) soul" (actual quote from Hader on his character), and have to fight their way back to humanity when they return.

When I was on active duty I lead a relatively normal life for a woman in her early twenties. I worked, I went home, I socialized with friends, dated, went out on weekends, traveled home for holidays. When I was a reservist married to an active duty Marine, we bought a house, got a dog, had a kid. Now, I'm a veteran battling very real PTSD from my time in service (not combat), married to a combat vet who is still active duty, and my life is about as suburban and "normal" as it can get. It is this way for the vast majority of people serving. It's more likely that an active duty service member would get married and start a family at a younger age than the national average.

And maybe right now you're thinking I sound like pedant. Like the gun nuts who write authors to complain about a firing pin being described incorrectly, I'm just mad at what they got wrong on a topic I know a lot about - but that isn't it.

These tropes hurt veterans. A lot of people are okay with that idea because they believe veterans are put on a pedestal in this country, but what pedestal allows for so many vets to live on the streets? Despite the fact that only 34% of adult men are veterans, 40% of homeless men are veterans. And although, only somewhere between 10 and 20% of vets suffer from some sort of mental illness, Americans overwhelmingly believe we are unstable, and mentally ill. Despite the fact that mentally ill people are more likely to be victims of violence, to live on the street, etc. we're viewed as ticking time bombs, or like, in Barry's Taylor character, loud, violent, and ready for a fight at all times.

Despite having less mental health problems than the general public seems to think we do - a lot of us are killing ourselves. Why? We can't get services.  Women veterans are at particular risk, because even when we can get services, they are catered to male veterans (ask me about the horrors women veterans experience in VA psych wards if you feel like you have a strong stomach). Women veterans are TWO TIMES as likely to complete suicide than civilian women. One in three women in the military are raped. That doesn't include other forms of sexual assault or harassment. Of course, women Marines don't actually exist in Barry. Like most popular culture, Barry assumes that all veterans are men, and all veterans served in infantry jobs. None of the characters we meet had a job specialty in the Marine Corps - they're just "Marines."

One benefit of being a woman, is most people assume I'm not a veteran, so I get to hear all the horrible things people believe about veterans first hand. Not that knowing I'm a veteran has stopped people I thought were close friends from expressing incredibly prejudiced and harmful opinions about who "we" are. I have spent years banging the drum that veterans are all different, we are a group of individuals - and popular culture works directly against it. Politicians want you to believe we're a homogeneous mass, even the ones who claim to "love the troops." Popular culture wants a quick shorthand - so we get the same characters over and over again. Barry is a soulless killer. Taylor is a maniac who lives to kill. Servicemembers don't have lives and families. Women don't serve.

It's easy. And when I see it in a show I otherwise love, it fucking sucks. It sucks to work hard to bust stereotypes and then see them employed freely on a show that is otherwise original and inventive. Listening to Hader and Alec Berg talk about writing the show - it's clear they put thought and care into every aspect of Barry's development. But they didn't put any thought or care into the messages they were sending about veterans.

I want shows with veterans who aren't dead-eyed killers or over the top maniacs. I want shows with veterans who have their own stories separate from being broken or damaged by their service. And jesus, I want the scenes about people like me and my husband to play in Barry as beautifully funny as the scene where Hader gives his outrageously upbeat take on the Glenngarry Glen Ross speech.

Friday, March 16, 2018

Good Girls

When I saw the previews for the new show Good Girls, I thought “Great, a TV series that should have been a movie.” How could anyone get a full season of television out of “hapless criminals rob a grocery store under a protection racket?” For whatever reason, I gave the first episode a shot, and before I knew it, I’d finished all three of the episodes that have aired. In spite of myself, I’m invested - and impressed.

Breaking Bad worked as well as it did because it started with a man who seemed relatable, in a situation so many Americans face. I’d also say it worked well because it was a drama. Good Girls takes a risk with similar subject matter in a comedic setting. What I love about the show is where it differs from Breaking Bad, through.

The show, true to its title, focuses on the issues that a group of three friends are struggling with. A mother living in poverty eleven years after becoming a teen mom, and trying to fight for custody of the gender non-confirming daughter her ex can’t seem to understand, a working class couple with a child suffering from a disease that can only be treated by a medication insurance won’t cover, and the suburban mom who thinks life is great until she discovers that not only is her husband cheating, but he’s blown all their money while she’s played the happy housewife.

All three need money fast. Their kids, their lives, everything is at stake. These are all incredibly American problems and, moreso, women’s problems. The show knows, without hitting the viewer over the head, that women are more likely to face poverty after divorce. The show knows that teen moms struggle long term in ways their male counterparts don’t. The show knows - and shows in heart breaking detail, how overburdened our healthcare system is, and how being black and poor means your doctor might not even bother to hear you when you speak.

The women in Good Girls don’t go traipsing into a life of crime because they’re bored housewives and need a thrill, they are desperate. In the second episode we see how insecure men confuse sex with power - through the eyes of the cheating husband facing the loss of his family, and through the eyes of one of the girls, who’s boss decides to use the knowledge of her crime to blackmail her into sex.

Even though the show is a comedy, the two scenes where he attempts to coerce sex from his employee are gut churning. The three friends continue to stand together and go deeper because the things on the line are unfathomable. Who could watch their child waste away waiting for an organ transplant? Who could let their friend be raped? Who could allow a dangerous criminal to show up at their friend’s home and interact with their children?

Some of my favorite crime stories feature hapless criminals, but the women in Good Girls aren’t hapless so much as inexperienced. Rather than counting on their lack of criminal experience for laughs, it pushes the characters further into trouble, backs them into a corner, and then delights in showing us how strong, fierce, and innovative they are.

It’s only three episodes in, and anything could happen, but I’m hopeful. The cast is great, the writing feels honest, and it’s a great crime story unfolding. I like seeing a woman led story dealing with real issues that can sill focus on being entertaining and funny while we contemplate what we would do if the American Dream fell in on is the way it has done to so many of our neighbors.

Wednesday, July 12, 2017

Crime, Punishment, and Poverty

by Holly West

The other day, Ben LeRoy shared this link on Facebook:

My Mother Wasn't Trash

The post resonated with me, not because I have personal experience with the type of extreme poverty the writer describes, but because my recent work has me researching the lives of people who do. All I can think of as I piece together their stories is, christ, they never really had a chance, did they?

Before I continue, I don't mean to imply that anyone's life is hopeless. As an outsider looking in, I can't make assumptions about others' lives based on what I think makes for a satisfying existence. Nor do I think a person's unfortunate circumstances, no matter how bad, excuse bad behavior and/or choices (and murder is about as messed up a choice as you can make). We're all born to disadvantages of one sort or another and we must power through without inflicting too much damage in the process.

But I think we can all agree there are disadvantages and then there are disadvantages. Let us not forget a large percentage of the population has been dealt a tremendously difficult hand and if you're tempted to shout "but, personal responsibility!" in response to this truth, you might be letting your privilege get in the way of compassion. Either that or I've just outed myself as a bleeding heart liberal.

As if you didn't know that already.

I've written before about the case I'm researching. Three teenaged girls were murdered in my hometown in 1984. A year later, a man was convicted of all three killings based on witness testimony alone. Note there was no physical evidence, largely because the victims' remains were reduced to bones by the time they were found. He was sentenced to die for the crimes. It's 2017 and he still sits on California's death row, awaiting execution.

Some people might be outraged to read that thirty-two years have past since his sentencing and he's still alive. I'm not one of those people. I used the word 'compassion' above and while I reserve mine solely for his victims, I've never favored the death penalty. Quite simply, I don't think the government should have the legal power to kill its citizens.

Instead, I'm compelled to take a closer look at the players involved, the victims, the witnesses, and yes, the killer. What brought them together? Why did this happen? What's the story behind the story?

My heart aches for the victims, two of which lived in foster care (they were two of a set of identical triplets). One of my first questions when I learned about the case was, why were they in foster care? I learned that their mother's first husband died unexpectedly when she was pregnant with one of their older siblings and that the man she re-married, their father, was at some point convicted of sexual assault. He's required to register as a sex offender but hasn't done so for a number of years.

I don't know whether their father's violent behavior contributed to their move into a foster home, but according to a post on a message board on Ancestry.com a few years ago, the surviving triplet hadn't seen her father since 1985, the year after her sisters were killed. I don't know what kind of support she had after her sisters' deaths, but a loving father wasn't part of it. I haven't yet interviewed the remaining triplet. I don't know if I ever will.

What about the witnesses who testified at trial? At least two of them also lived in the same foster home as the triplets. Again, I had to ask, why? In both cases, I uncovered generations of drug addiction, broken families, and poverty--cycles that continue to this day. A friend of mine recently told me she'd read a passage claiming violence (or, for our purposes, dysfunction) takes at least three generations to overcome. I'd suggest that in many cases, it takes far longer than that.

Finally, we have the killer. Much of his misfortune in life was laid out by the defense during his sentencing hearing, so I didn't have as much digging to do to find it. None of it excuses what he did. Let me repeat: None of it. But daily beatings and molestation by his stepfather (among other things) contributed to his rage, alcoholism, and drug abuse. And as with the teenagers he murdered and the girls (now women) who testified at his trial, the cycle of dysfunction continues in the family today.

I know far more about these stories than I'm revealing here and as a result, my argument is rather flimsy. I get that. I still don't know what form my telling will ultimately take and I won't go into it more fully until I do. But Ben's link was so reminiscent about the lives I'm reading about lately, I wanted to talk about it today. I firmly believe approaching life with compassion rather judgement can go a long way in helping victims and ourselves break these cycles.

Maybe this is the reason I'm doing this?

Friday, May 6, 2016

Word on the Street with James Queally Pt. 2

Continuing LAST WEEK'S amazing interview with LA Times crime reporter James Queally, here's part two, where we discuss OJ Simpson, true crime television, and "crime porn."

I think the immediacy, when we’re watching television coverage of big news events like this that starts to get a little sticky. Do you think there is an advantage to – you have to go get the information, process it, write it, hopefully it goes through an editor, and then it is published vs. watching CNN when, I think it was the Boston Bombings, and they’ve got three reporters in the same parking lot and you can actually see the bus driving through it – they’re just scrambling to say something, anything, get any relevant sound bit they can get out. That’s their sense of immediacy. But you’re taking your sense of immediacy and filtering it through more of a process. Do you think there’s an advantage to that?
No, I can agree with that. There is an advantage. I don’t have a hot mic. Somebody is going to at least breathe and think about whatever feed I just sent in.  The only immediacy situation I have is, you know, we’re encouraged, especially in a situation like Ferguson, I was essentially using Twitter as a notepad. At that point, I’m taking pictures of clashes, of officers in riot gear and protestors, I’m sending out tweets that I just got hit in the face with tear gas. At that point I am just sending out, just pretty much stream of consciousness. But as far as a full report, and a continuous live stream – yeah, I feel like TV is at something of a disadvantage.

Especially when - San Bernardino is a perfect example. I’d written a story about this months later. The initial couple  of press conferences, the information that came from some witnesses at the scene was that there were three shooters. There was no evidence that there were three shooters. The FBI said only two weapons were used. This was never true, but because they were dealing with such a chaotic scenario the initial press conferences with Jarrod Burguan, the San Bernardino Police Department’s chief, he said there were three shooters and that got carried live by CNN, ABC, NBC, everybody who was there. 

And it’s, through no fault of the TV station, but they have to carry the live feed of the press conference. And they put out - everybody put out – that false information, just because it’s that immediate chaos following a scenario like that. And yeah, when they’ve got to constantly have live feeds, sometimes stuff gets misappropriated. You know this is a story I was telling out of Ferguson, too. The third night I was there was the night before Thanksgiving and everyone had kind of calmed down. You were talking about, there were hundreds of protestors out every night, but standing in front of the Ferguson police department I was like coin flip you were going to get arrested if you were anywhere near the protestors or God forbid you stepped into the street toward the cops. So it was a madhouse the first two days, and then day three – not really anybody there.

It was like half media, half protestors/demonstrators. At one point, a bunch of us came back from eating somewhere and I heard the CNN guy mutter something to the effect of “the crowd is doubling” into a live camera. The crowd of protestors isn’t doubling! It’s me, the guy from Buzzfeed and whoever else just walked back into the parking area. But they are running continuous coverage so they don’t … what’s his fact check on that? He’s going to turn over his shoulder? He’s going to run over and ask all forty of us if we’re demonstrators or not? It’s not the highest of journalistic sins that they’re committing, but it’s just the reality of, yeah, if you’re constantly live broadcasting – like you said – there’s no filter, there’s no check. You might have a producer yelling in the anchor’s ear to get away from something if something truly onerous goes on. You know, this happens during police pursuits– this has happened during police pursuits in LA before. I think there have been one or two cases where they actually shot and killed the fleeing driver on television. This happened a long time ago, before I was here. But that is the danger of covering anything constantly. You don’t know what’s going to happen. You can’t edit out what’s actually occurring on a livestream.
If I could lead you a little bit, away from actual TV news, which I think TV news is becoming more entertainment than news - I know that you said you’re not actually a big true crime entertainment fan. Is there a reason why you, personally, are not catching this wave that a lot of people are into right now, watching all these shows, listening to the podcasts – all of that. Or is it just that you’re too busy?
 
Part of it is overload, quite frankly. As you know, how you met me, I also write crime fiction. So I’m spending the day reporting on crime, I come home and I’m working on a short story or a novel. A lot of what I read is a lot of genre fiction and a lot of the TV I watch, in general – Better Call Saul is at the top of my list right now – that’s kind of a sad sack noir story. I need something different after awhile. Sometimes I just need to watch a basketball game.

Moreseo, from a critical standpoint, I guess I’m touch and go. I got into Serial for a few episodes and kind of faded away from it. On the one hand, I think stuff like Serial and Making A Murderer can be good because one of the main headaches of crime reporting, especially as I said at my old job, I was covering Newark Police Department, which is the largest department in New Jersey, a hundred murders a year in that city. And then I was doing Enterprise investigative pieces throughout the state. Any major disaster that happened I got sent on it, Hurricane Sandy, I was living on a cot for ten days in my photographer’s apartment – we don’t have time to do these kind of projects. It’s very rare if you’re a police beat reporter, we can’t do what Serial did. [Note: James did originally slip and call “Serial”, “Scandal” and he would like it on record that he does not watch Scandal].
I guess there is something of a danger in re-litigating a case, and it’s also, the other side of it – Serial did uncover some interesting things about the Adnan Syed case, especially the stuff regarding the defense attorney, I remember she had died before they did the podcast, but she had some serious misconduct allegations, I think. It kind of called into question whether or not he received adequate counsel. To some extent, I think something like that is very interesting. It does open up this kind of logical sinkhole, can the media re-litigate cases and what are you really doing it for? Are you doing it for journalistic integrity, are you doing it because you saw what a smash hit Serial was and now you’re going to profit from that as well? I haven’t watched Making A Murderer, so I can’t really comment on that, I don’t know the first thing about it.

I just started Making A Murderer, and to be honest with you I’m almost let down by it because people were so INTO it. But I read all of the stuff debating Making A Murderer before viewing it, so I kind of have a different view than watching it when it first came out. But what I thought was interesting about Making A Murderer vs. other cases we see get “re-litigated” (I’m going to use your term), is that it seemed that a lot of people debating the points of the documentary missed the point of the documentary, which was that there were obvious instances of misconduct. But people got so into the idea of “is this guy guilty or innocent?” that it took over the conversation people were having.

Right, and I feel like that can be a problem in and of itself because you can never – all of the things we’re talking about, whether it’s the motive as to why a sixteen year old got killed on a street corner in Newark or it’s what lead to one of these officer involved shootings that ends up on the national stage, or it’s something as complicated as a criminal trial – if you want to look at it for the quick fix of was somebody guilty or was somebody innocent – like you said - you’re missing the point of: was there prosecutorial misconduct? Was there inadequate counsel on side? What were the societal factors that lead to this? You know, these documentaries can answer a ton of important questions, but really only if their audience is willing to actually look for those from the show. If they’re not, if it’s just crime porn for them, it’s Court TV, you may not be accomplishing anything.

The OJ phenomenon, which I guess is the most recent example of this – I had a bit of a skewed take on this because I was like six years old when this happened. For me it was just really interesting to learn all of this stuff about the case –

Wait, how old are you?
I’m 28.

Okay. So you were older than six.
When the chase happened… no, when the chase happened I was seven.

Oh, okay. Right, because there was a gap. I was just thrown off because I’m thirty-two and I remember in sixth grade math class, the teacher putting on the verdict.
Yeah, they didn’t do that for us. I guess I would have been in fourth grade and they decided nine was too young for that.

And your teacher hated you everyday for it.
Yes.

The only thing I remember about the OJ trial, from being that young was, this is going to sound stupid, it was a sports reason. I was living in New York at the time, I was a huge Knicks fan and it interrupted game six of the Knicks – Rockets NBA finals. That’s the only thing I really knew about OJ growing up until I started reading about it later. I had not read Tupin’s book, so like this was really a kind of dive in for me for all of the – I never knew about people cheering for him on the freeway in South L.A., about Marcia Clarke and what she went through during the trial, really just the insanity of the 24/7 media cycle. Really, to some extent that case and really Rodney King, kind of gave birth to the endless coverage of something you see on virtually any news story now. None of that was known to me then. I’d read articles about it here and there, looked up things about it. You know, obviously OJ is constantly in our news cycle, especially with that psychotic incident with the knife being found that we were covering about a month or two ago, but I really never had it in one sitting. One condensed – “This is what happened.” I think OJ was different because it was kind of a retrospective, for the most part it didn’t really try to pass judgment on anybody. I mean, there were a few characters that the show runners really couldn’t seem to hide their contempt for, OJ chief among them. For the most part it just kind of blends into history. It wasn’t some kind of alternate reality, it wasn’t some attempt to suggest that this, that, or the other thing happened. I think it was just a lens for, at least for me as somebody who really missed it while it was happening, to kind of relearn about this kind of dramatic shift.

They’re supposed to be doing Katrina next year, I really don’t know how that’s going to work.

So that leads me onto something else I wanted  to touch on, because I’m really interested in how you as a crime reporter – you have a job to do. You go out, you do that job every day. You see these things with your own eyes a lot of the time. You speak with people who are affected by it. I would assume that gives you a different perspective and maybe a different amount or type of empathy for the people involved in these crimes whereas when you look at something that isn’t necessarily retrospective but happening in the moment, like watching court cases on HLN or any one of a million day-time TV crime shows you can watch where someone is talking about this heinous crime they worked on – that empathy seems to get lost in 1) trying to entertain and 2) a sort of distance that’s harder to reconcile. So I was wondering if there was anything you could say about your experience being there on the street about how you hope that people are interpreting the things that you’re putting out there.

I think some of the day time shows you’re talking about, and I think I mentioned this when we were chatting some other day, some of those like Snapped or that one that focuses on social media, I think that’s like Oxy or HLN. Those are the two I’m familiar with, those are the two my girlfriend is obsessed with. Those two shows irritate me because – like you said, the empathy gets lost in the distance, whether it’s the narrator reading like he’s writing the worst dime store novel ever. You know the kind of awful puns that will come up from time to time, and you do see whenever they talk to a local newspaper or TV reporter who covered the case, they will have felt something. But yeah it just seems like the shows almost have fun with these cases where women died. Sometimes, often, in these situations, they are domestic violence cases. Nothing is funny about that in any way but it’s sometimes a more tragic murder than a random crime because it’s almost always somebody knew something and didn’t speak up and then things got out of hand. This kind of nausea comes over me, even if it’s like two in the morning and I’m like sitting there because I can’t sleep. It’s like why am I… I am part of why it’s okay to use these people’s corpses for a point 2 cable rating in the middle of the night. I feel like I’m not helping the problem.

There’s definitely a kind of empathy that comes with these kind of situations. Frankly, on both sides. I’ve interviewed the parents of people who were arrested for murder 48 hours after their son or daughter got taken into custody and I’ve spoken to way too many families of people who have been killed. And you have to take on an empathy for them. It’s very rare that you’re going to catch the mother, the husband, the wife, the daughter, at the scene and get them talking right then and there. You’re going to catch witnesses, you might catch some relatives and you might talk to them briefly and get their immediate from the gut reaction, but you’re not going to get that longer conversation that’s going to lead to the feature later. When you have that – you’re kind of asking them to tell their entire – the victim’s whole life story. You have to care. You can’t fake it.

There is, I will admit this, and I’m not the only reporter on Earth who does this – the way I begin those conversations is a little bit, almost scripted in my head. I’m hoping that’s not coming across like a manipulative connotation but you have to steel yourself to have this conversation for the five hundredth time in your career. It’s “I know this is a bad time. I understand if you wouldn’t want to talk.” You’re offering your condolences. You do say the same things over and over again early on. But after that, you have to invest yourself in that conversation or you’re not going to be listening, quite frankly. There’s no way you don’t make a connection with somebody sitting in a room in that scenario, and when you watch these more dime-a-dozen versions of these shows, I feel like when they talk to the reporters who were there, they will generally still seem to feel that empathy I remember feeling in those scenarios. I would imagine even the producers, the people who are doing the interviews for these shows generally, you know the people asking the questions on camera, they’re never shown on camera, you never hear their voice. I would imagine they’re having the same empathy toward these people, too, just from the documentary stand point. But it’s what it gets packaged into that kind of gets away from it.

I feel like that is, maybe, the problem with a lot of these shows is they become formulaic because people watch them for a lot of reasons, but one of the reasons someone is going to sit and watch the twelve hour Snapped Marathon is there is a sense of familiarity and knowing what’s going to happen.

There’s also a sense of… it’s simple story telling at the end of the day. We like heroes, but we also like villains. I don’t know if you watched it or not, but one of the big phenomenons from the last year of Netflix was the Killgrave character on Jessica Jones. That guy’s a monster! He’s a sexual predator, he’s terrifying, and he was probably my favorite part of the show. I think that does come across, too, when you’re watching these shows, like the killer is interesting and that is part of the issue, you get lost in that to some extent.

Two things following on that: 1) You mentioned that you did this really in-depth piece on civilian casualties in police chases, but admitted to me that in the news room, you’re still watching them. It still draws you in. And what’s funny is that I’ve sort of made a reputation over the last year of criticizing true crime, but I was watching one of these shows – Dateline something or other. Actually, it was called “Plot Twist”. I was watching it, and I was into it, I was totally invested and texting my husband saying ‘Oh my god, you’re not going to believe what happened now!” So I think we can criticize it all we want but at the same time…

We’re human.

Right, we’re human.
But what struck me was that you said you have that sense of empathy for both sides. Not just for the victims and the victim’s families, but it’s also for the perpetrators of these crimes, or the accused, depending on what the case may be.

Well the empathy is for the families. Usually the families of the accused, usually not the accused themselves.

I had one specific incident I remember in Newark, I wrote about this kid numerous times over the course of a year, thirteen year old kid just went on a killing spree. He robbed about four different people and two of them, after they surrendered and gave him money, he shot them in the back and killed them. He killed multiple people in the span of a month. A couple sources I had in the prosecutor’s office, I managed to get the family’s home address, and I got down there and the family life was not the best.

You know, there was an uncle in there who had a blood tattoo on for a set I recognized. I name-dropped a gang leader who was one of my sources at the time and he knew who he was, and this guy was around the kid all the time. But the older brother and the mom, they were just kind of constantly… they didn’t know what to make of this. They didn’t know that their son and brother was capable of this. She’s sitting there like, you know he loved playing basketball. She’s got the uniform of him in the, whatever the New Jersey equivalent of the CYL basketball league that I grew up playing in New York was. To her it was just her baby boy. You feel terrible for that woman. It’s like you could say bad parenting or whatever, but I don’t know… I feel like there’s very few cases of bad parenting that lead to your son going on a robbery/murder spree in some of the most dangerous neighborhoods in Newark. I’m sure there are abuse cases where that might be, but that was never alleged here, and to my knowledge that’s not what happened. This is just a woman who’s kid is thirteen years old,  and threw his whole life away and ruined the lives of how many other mothers and fathers sitting there having the opposite side of this conversation with a different reporter or a homicide detective?

There have definitely been situations where I’ve spent a lot of time with them. I did a magazine profile of Frank Lucas, the guy that American Gangster was based off of, his youngest kid, I felt bad for. The kid was brilliant, he was clerking in a law office for the guy that Russel Crowe played in the movie. The kid was an innocent, nice guy, but he’s living in the shadow of one of the most famous drug lords in history. It’s the people around the suspects that I always really feel for. It’s every reporter’s dream to prove somebody’s innocence but those situations don’t really happen that often so for the most part, the suspect is kind of just the suspect. If they’re cleared later, you know through the Innocence Project, you feel horrible that somebody was locked up forever and a day, but obviously when someone is going through the arrest and prosecution and judication scenario, I don’t really get access to talk to them. So it’s the people around them you empathize with because those are the people you meet.

 Read James's work at the LA Times here, and follow him on Twitter.

Friday, April 29, 2016

Word on the Street - Interview with James Queally

Sometimes when you get to talking to someone with great insight and stories to tell, you lose track of time and forget you're going to have to transcribe the conversation in an interview format for the readers of Do Some Damage - and that's exactly what happened when I sat down with James Queally, a crime reporter for the L.A. Times, just days after his paper won a Pulitzer for their coverage of the San Bernardino shooting.

James shared some great stories and gave me a lot of his time, so rather than trying to butcher the wonderful thing we created, I've decided to split his interview into two entries. In this entry, we discuss the importance of crime reporting, the tensions during the Ferguson protests, and how small details tell more than one might imagine when reporting on crime.

Photo by Dan Buczynski

You’ve been doing crime reporting for a while now, how many years?
I’ve been on and off for about seven years. I did breaking crime at night, so like, graveyard shift homicides all across New Jersey for about two years at the Star Ledger, then I started covering the Newark Police Department and statewide crime there.

When I came out here the first year, I was doing… working on this like digital breaking news desk so it was kind of a diversion. Then, for about the last year I’ve been kind of like a general assignment crime reporter for the Times, mostly crime around L.A. County, so that could be anything from an investigative project to getting sent to South L.A. because a body got found in a refrigerator.

That actually happened, I’m not that imaginative.

Wow! So, I mean what I want to know, from your perspective is (and it may seem obvious to you): Why do you think it’s important to have people like you out there covering crime as it’s happening?
It’s a variety of different things. It keeps an open dialogue, especially in the past two years with every officer use of force, pretty much, that happens in the U.S. under scrutiny. It allows the other side of any argument to come out. It’s the same as the importance of covering politics, of covering you know, court system. It gets human voices, it gets dissenting voices into a conversation that would otherwise be dominated by the press release or the sentencing transcript, or the court transcripts. I guess court’s a bad example ‘cause that is pretty open dialogue.

But you know, it’s let’s us be there, in the moment getting witnesses, doing as much of our own investigation as we can. A lot of what drove Ferguson, aside from social media was simply the “Hands up, don’t shoot” narrative kind of coming out of witness statements, coming out of Twitter, coming out of the St. Louis Post Dispatch’s early reporting down there. It kind of, depending on what side of that argument you’re on, you could say it’s for better or worse, but it kept it from just being the original police department narrative. And that’s kind of what I’ve always found, and it also just gives you more avenues to a more human story.

I’ve found plenty of good features, good other interesting characters to write about. Moreso when I was in Newark when I was really plugged into the city, just by going to homicide scenes. You know, you may go there and it might be what on it’s face looks like a typical murder. Your average police department press release is not terribly illuminating. It will generally be this is the age, the hometown, gender of the dead person or people. There are survivors, they are in this condition. They’ll generally say they don’t have a motive or suspect, or if they do release a motive it’s because it’s something basic or obvious like a domestic violence call or a known gang thing. And that’s usually it.
Photo by Neil Cooper

That’s all there is – and at the end of the day, somebody died. You know, there’s still a story to tell there. It’s not going to be every murder case, but you need to go down there. It’s probably your best crack at finding witnesses – obviously at finding witnesses, but also finding family members who will show up before everyone kind of just kind of scatters away. It’s a lost opportunity to not armchair cover.  When drowning in Newark, in nearly a hundred murders per year, there were days I would occasionally not run on the scene, but more often than not, I tried to get to every one I possibly could.

Do you feel that, in the time that you’ve been covering these kind of things that people seem to be more interested in the more human details than maybe they have been in the past – with things like the Freddie Gray incident in Baltimore and realizing that there are competing narratives?
Yeah, I mean, people have always been obsessed with crime and true crime narratives, but I definitely think everyone – you know, you have a facebook account – everyone is armchair quarterbacking the way police handle everything, especially use of force these days.

So I think it is more important than ever to have the other side of the argument – even if the police are right – it’s just like any conversation you need both sides. I do think there is more interest in it now, it’s also more important, I think, just to get factual information to have traction. Because you know “millenials are evil’, it’s my generation that’s doing this, but they kind of live and thrive off social media


But you know, Ferguson was both a good and terrible example of this because while on the one side of things, Twitter definitely made that issue front and center – I really think that, more than Eric Garner, is what pushed us into the scrutiny and the climate we’re in now. But like I said, it brought all that attention the day of, and the week of when the shooting first happened. But also, when I was down there you could see people yelling and screaming things that were happening, that just weren’t. They would say the buildings were on fire that I was standing in front of, or that looters were in a certain building that they weren’t. You can just say anything. So I think now more than ever it’s important for those initial accounts to get out there and to get them from reporters on the ground, people you can trust. Get them online quicker.

If we’re not physically there in the moment and you’re waiting. It might sound like it’s a police sanitized narrative – but like I said before, the press releases are so limited that even while I was down there and I got to Ferguson – I landed about an hour after the grand jury decision, so things had already gotten bad. I could see the smoke coming up while I was landing at the airport in St. Louis. Anyway, there was a press conference about 2 am with the St. Louis County Police Chief, and he told you everything he could. But I mean, at the end of the day the official account of hundreds of people obliterating the main road through a city, he can’t cover everything that happened.

There was one thing I saw that got picked up by a few media accounts, but not a ton – there was a near catastrophe down there that I think I was one of the only reporters standing around for.
Things were insane. There was a gas station that had already been looted earlier in the night and – some of this is just illumantive to the tension, it’s not really a major story on it’s own – this caris just trying to get out of the street, from these rioters and peels off into the gas lot to get out of the way. And two officers arrived there, pull their rifles and advance on them. These were like sixteen year old kids, just trying to get the hell out of Dodge. That was like five seconds away from something absolutely mortifying happening. And in a vacuum, it’s chaos, no one is wrong to some extent. The officers are defending themselves, these people are trying to get the hell out of Dodge, but it’s just… you get examples like that, that really highlight the tension, almost more than any quote, anything a police officer is going to tell you, anything a city official is going to tell you. THAT image stayed with me and it was something I kept harkening back to writing about it later. You get those little pockets of action that you just might not see otherwise.
Photo by Intangible Arts

One of the worst murders I remember covering in Newark. There was some street dispute, I don’t remember exactly what lead to this. I think it was 2011. But a thirteen year old kid was murdered by this twenty-four year old. They were apparently fighting over the same woman. But when we got down to the scene it was less than an hour after it happened. A reporter who I was working with on it, found that the kid’s mother was outside, powerwashing the blood off the street. That’s kind of always been a hallmark of urban centers, the street Mylar balloons and candles, its always the one repeat image of homicides there, and she was cleaning the spot that was eventually going to turn into that. If that’s not indicative of the hellacious urban violence that happened in that city the whole time I was covering it, I don’t know what is. I just feel like finding those pieces can sometimes highlight what’s going on better than any comment.

And obviously, going back to what you said before, yeah what we’re talking about, especially increased scrutiny of police now – it’s not just getting the witnesses right there and not letting misinformation get traction, it’s also you wanna get to people before, you know like anything – like anybody, like a police officer would, too – you don’t want to talk to them after they’ve told their story three and four and five times and refined it. And they’ve talked to TV or have been coached, or they’ve been deposed by a lawyer. You don’t want to talk to somebody who was there three days later. You want to talk to them right there, right then, right now. So you’re gonna get the clean story.
You’ve just got to be there. It’s not a good way to do business otherwise

Look for part two where we discuss True Crime TV, OJ Simpson, and more. Read James's work at the LA Times here, and follow him on Twitter.

Friday, March 11, 2016

Unconventional Weapons

As writers, particularly crime writers, we get caught in some weird thought experiments. That's how I know I'd rather murder someone with a knife than a gun, and exactly how I'd personally dispose of a body (no, I'm not telling). One thing crime and horror seem to have in common is that creating new and interesting ways to murder people is a big concern. You don't want to go so over the top that it takes away from the story, but how many times can you read "BANG! BANG!" before you're bored? And though I favor the knife idea, knives get plenty of play in crime fiction, too.

The new anthology Unloaded: Crime Writers Writing Without Guns is due out in April, and it's got me thinking - if I were going to go whole hog, and leave behind the conventional weapons I rely on in my fiction, how exactly would I kill motherfuckers?

I present a short (and not wholly serious) list of options:

Boa Constrictor



This has probably been done, but if we can use guns and knives all the time, surely there is room for more stories where a character finds himself stuck in a small space with no one to keep him company but a hungry boa. When it begins to wrap around him, he fights back, of course, but as the air is slowly squeezed from his lungs, arms pinned to his sides, he begs for the sweet release of death. He prays he won't simply fall into unconsciousness and awake with the bottom half of his body bulging out of the snake's guts. If the boa above can eat a kangaroo - it can definitely fuck you up. Plenty of drama, and, why limit it to boas? There are anacondas, pythons, and all manner of big snakes with big appetites.

Smileys

A cheap, brutal, and efficient weapon of convenience, the smiley is a hell of a weapon. The simple padlock on a chain design has been favored by everyone from cyclists (who actually have an excuse to carry them) to dirty punk rockers looking to cause a ruckus. Anyone could have one - even someone who didn't plan to use it as a weapon when they left the house. Your killer could be a real estate agent on her way to lock up a lot of land, a drug dealer with limited means for self defense, an angry cyclist, or even some dumbfuck kid who thought carrying a smiley sounded cool but never actually thought he'd pull it out in a fight. It's a dirty weapon - no clean hands or clear conscience after using one of these. Other pieces of hardware guaranteed to hurt: collapsible spade, Maglite, rototiller.


Piano

Piano wire has made it's way into many a murder scene, but outside of Looney Tunes I haven't seen a lot of pianos used to murder people. This is a really versatile weapon, it can be defenestrated (oh, what a word!), pushed down a flight of stairs, or even, if on wheels, used to smash into someone again and again. It comes with it's own discordant soundtrack, and the added benefit of having your character accomplish something cartoon characters only dream of. Other stuff to drop on people: anvils (obviously), old cars, oversized refrigerators.

Fun fact: A strip club bouncer was actually killed while having sex on a piano rigged to rise and lower for performances. They hit the switch and it rose until it crushed him to death, leaving his partner trapped underneath him. I'm telling you - pianos don't fuck around.

Grenades
I can't understand why we don't see more grenades in crime fiction. They're small, easy to use, and cause a hell of a lot of damage. Everybody likes a good explosion and you can have fun with the fact that most people don't have any idea how far you should be when one goes off, or what kind of damage it can do in a small space. Hitmen tossing grenades into cop cars while they're on stake out - KABOOM! Not to mention the element of surprise in a face to face fight when someone drops a live grenade at your feet. It would get ugly fast, but man would it be a ride. Other explosives: dynamite!


The Illustrated Moby Dick

I guess this one is cheating, as plenty of people get bludgeoned with bricks. I prefer to experience the "crazy old man obsessed with fish" story as written by Hemingway - shorter, mostly - but if a hardcover edition of Moby Dick has to exist, and it has to be even thicker with the addition of illustrations, we may as well use it to smash someone's face in. There's room for all sorts of great one liners about getting "schooled" or "acting like a real dick." Perhaps the darkest facet of this particular murder weapon is that nobody wants this big ass book to be the last thing they lay eyes on in this realm. Other books to kill with include: War & Peace, hardcover family Bible, the unabridged version of The Stand.





Friday, December 18, 2015

Alabama Worley, You're So Cool


By Renee Asher Pickup 

I never got into romantic comedies. I can't suspend my disbelief, and half the time the woman "finding love" would be the bitch in a story told to you by your friends: "So then, she LEAVES HIM AT THE ALTAR and runs off with her high school boyfriend! Can you fucking believe that?"

But I do love a good love story.

Not many love stories are written with people like me in mind. Maybe my father over-romanticized Bonnie & Clyde when I was a kid, or maybe there is just something fundamentally wrong with the part of my brain that processes traditional love stories, but when I say "a good love story" I mean a story like True Romance.

There are a hundred different ways to approach explaining my love for this film, and how heavily it influenced what I consider "a good love story" and "a good crime movie" and "a good performance by Christopher Walken", but I want to focus on the real badass in this film:

Alabama Worley.


Look, Clarence is a sweet guy. Bama didn't choose poorly, even if marrying a guy on the first date is ABSOLUTELY INSANE. But the facts are the facts - without Bama, Clarence would have been dead three to five times in the course of the film. This movie could have been about a hooker with a heart of gold, but Tarantino and Tony Scott didn't take the easy way with any of the characters.

Arquette plays Alabama with a sweet sort of naivety that tricks the viewer into thinking she needs saving, but when push comes to shove - don't fuck with Bama. I don't know if Arquette going head to head with Gandolfini is the best fight scene I've ever seen - but I know that if you didn't fall in love with Alabama Worley the moment she starts laughing at him and flips him off you don't have a soul.




It's easy to forget that Alabama was already in a bad situation when she met Clarence. Whatever lead her to Drexl didn't take the childlike innocence out of her, but it definitely hardened her in ways we don't immediately see. She sees a pile of coke and her brand new husband and thinks "sure, let's do this!" You might even believe she just drifts into whatever life throws at her, hoping for the best, until you realize this woman actually laughed her way through a brutal beatdown and came out on top. Then, she doesn't run scared or go running to Clarence with second thoughts - she puts on her Elvis shades and gets down to business.

I have a real hard time with happy endings, I really do. The darker and ending, the better I like it. If this film had ended the way Tarantino originally wrote it, I wouldn't have minded one bit. But you can't help but be happy that Tony Scott changed it at the last minute (he really didn't decide to let Clarence live until midway through shooting the movie). I will go as far as to say, if it had ended with Alabama alone, driving away with the money, it would have been a killer movie, but it would have lost it's ranking as a "love story."

Regardless, Bama earned that ride into the sunset. She was hot on her feet and, as usual, took care of business.

Bullets are flying, Clarence is shot, no one is getting out alive. She doesn't run. She doesn't go somewhere to hide and cry. She gets the money, gets her man, and gets the hell out of Dodge. Nothing stops Alabama. Nothing throws her off her game.

She's so cool.



Friday, November 20, 2015

Ramblers, Let's Get Ramblin'

The first scene in From Dusk Till Dawn is a Ranger and a cashier talking the absolute worst shit you can imagine about a disabled kid. It's cringeworthy and terrible - and quite fucking perfect because when George Clooney pops out of the background and puts a gun to the cashier's head, the viewer doesn't mind one bit. Within seconds the liquor store explodes in an intense gunfight, and you don't even realize you're not rooting for the victims until the Gecko Brothers walk out of the burning building arguing like an old married couple.

I tell people all the time "From Dusk Till Dawn changed my life,"and they think I'm joking. I saw this movie for the first time with my parents, and none of us knew what was coming. I vividly remember both of them cursing my uncle's name for recommending "this stupid fucking movie."



I was exhilarated.

I was thirteen and had never seen anything like any of it. Forget the twist - the raw, unadulterated violence of it, the so-cool-it's-fucking-cold characterization of Seth Gecko, and the terrible unease I felt every time Richie had a scene - it was an awakening. I'd been writing for years at this point, something that had been encouraged by family and teachers, a lauded nascent talent, but I didn't even realize anti-heroes were a thing. To be honest, I didn't realize it when I watched the movie the first time or the fiftieth time. I was along for the ride and the only thinking I had time for was making a list of every Tarantino and Rodriguez film ever made so I could walk down to the video store and rent them (on VHS for 99 cents).

As I've grown up, watching the film over and over again, it's struck me that the real strength in this film is how it makes you love The Gecko Brothers despite them being two of the worst, despicable criminals to grace the screen. Is it controversial to say that no one sympathizes with a rapist? Probably not. But somehow you don't mind rooting for Richie, because the film manages to make you view him through his brother's eyes - is he fucked up? Sick? Wrong? Yeah, but Seth loves him. How much does the viewer have to love Seth to give a fuck about that?

It comes drips and drops. Of course, Seth is fucking cool. Everybody likes a cool criminal. He appeals to the part of all of us that wants to take whatever we want and ignore the needs of anyone but ourselves. Most works of fiction can get a long way on that alone, but if you're going to love him enough to love his brother, there's more work to be done. Seth doesn't want to kill you, but he will - even so, when he opens the door in the hotel room and sees what Richie has done to their hostage his horror is palpable. Seconds later, when he's shaking Richie, hitting his head against the wall, the horror is replaced by true helplessness. As we travel through Texas with the brothers we get to know Seth better. He won't kill unless he has to, he lives by his word, he loves his brother.


The genius part of this characterization, though, is how the film quietly shows everyone around Seth to be much, much worse than he is. The Texas Ranger and cashier come first, but then there is the news reporter grinning like an idiot as she reports on the body count they've racked up. At the Titty Twister, he reflexively knocks out the bouncer who comments on his young hostage's body. Seth may be a real mean motor-scooter, but he's a product of his fucked up world. When it comes time to lay it down and fight for survival, he doesn't let Jacob and his family down - he gladly joins up.

What makes Seth so relatable, so easy to root for, is the idea that he might not be that much worse than anyone else - he's just better at being bad. I mean, what's the big loss if he has to take out a couple assholes just as bad as he is?

A friend (Tony McMillen) once pointed out that From Dusk Till Dawn was just a new (and incredibly fucked) way of telling the story told in Of Mice and Men - El Rey is "the fat of the land", Seth and Richie the George and Lenny - cursed to be tied to one another on their ill-fated journey. Everybody's retelling an old story - Tarantino just added vampires.

There is something truly special about making people who are easy to hate easy to root for. FDTD makes it happen in the first seven minutes.

So yeah, I tell people the movie changed my life because instead of writing poorly realized love stories or Hardy Boys style adventures I was writing alternate endings to the Geckos story, hiding them behind passwords on my DOS word processor. Somewhere along the line I started writing my own characters, and while they may not be as cool as Seth Gecko, I hope they're at least half as tortured, one tenth as sympathetic in light of how terrible my characters tend to be.

Psychos don't explode when they're hit by sunlight, I don't give a fuck how crazy they are.

Friday, August 2, 2013

Watching the Detectives (and the crooks)

By Russel D McLean

Rewatching The Sopranos of late has got me thinking about crime fiction and television. Crime is a great source of drama, and crime shows are among some of the most popular scripted shows that people watch on the box. At their most basic, they are crime of the week shows, at their most complex they become  stories as much about their time and place as they do about providing that vicarious thrill of watching bad things happen without the consequences affecting our lives. Here are my top 10 crime shows and the reasons they work.

10 - Crime Story

This was the show that really introduced the world to ex Chicago cop Dennis Farina. Made in the 80s, it was set in the 60s and faced off Farina's cop against an up and coming mobster first in Chicago and later in Vegas. The first season was stunning, with memorable guest stars (including a young David Caruso, Pam Grier and Miles Davis) and an ending that left the viewer slack jawed. The second season stumbled, but perhaps this was because no one thought they'd be back. Yes, its a little disjointed in an 80's way, but it was one of the first shows to really try and create an arc for its characters and for the most part that first season stands out as a trailblazing template for modern crime dramas.

9 -Life on Mars (UK)


John Simm was the lead, but the star of the show was Philip Glenister as DCI Gene Hunt. A TV show about a modern cop travelling back to the un-PC seventies sounded daft, but somehow everything about this series came together in exactly the right way. It only lasted for two seasons, and that ending resulted in a number of debates about what actually happened, and if the producers had been smart that's the way things would have stayed. Sadly they made a sequel set in the 80s which made Gene the lead and provided a few dissapointingly definitive answers that really negated the power of the original show. But LoM was one of the finest British dramas of its time, and the crime drama aspects of its scripts were rarely less than compelling, drawing great paralells between what Britain was and what it had become.

8 - OZ

 This prison drama was frequently unsettling, massively melodramatic and never less than utterly compelling (although frequently, one would feel the need for a long shower after watching: this was one disturbing show, not for the easily offended). There were no good guys - the best you could find was amorality - and the violence was frequently shocking and unexpected. Adibissi ranks as one of the most memorably terrifying characters of all time, even if his little hat defied the laws of physics. Brave, bold, a show that tried to ask tough questions about the penal system and even if it all got a little surreal (the musical episode was both brilliant and head scratching), and occasionally too focussed on the horrific violence inside a max security pen, there's no denying that it was hugely powerful and often debate provoking television.

7 -Braquo

I love french crime dramas. The ones they make for the movies, anyway. Their TV has been more hit and miss until a little show called Spiral (Engrenages) came along and paved the way for a new way of looking at cop shows. Written by an ex cop, Braquo took the baton offered by Spiral and ran with it. Its a show about corrupt cops, about good people doing bad things, about how power can corrupt. Its a show with a spiky edge to it. And its utterly compelling. If you haven't seen it, seek it out, now. I'm just about to hit season 2 and I can't wait...

6- Homicide



Homicide at number 6? Oh someone's going to lynch me for this. Homicide was a brilliant, brilliant show. But it was interesting how its early grittiness (the first season was based quite closely on David Simon's brilliant Baltimore reportage) gave way to a cleaner cop drama that nevertheless retained its bite with some great central performances. I still think killing John Polito was a mistake, but luckily the show continued to impress with a career defining role for Richard Belzer (his character, John Munch, has now appeared on around a dozen other shows including, bizarrely, Sesame Street) and the constant presence of the brilliant Yahpett Koto as the squad commander. And of course, there was always  A brilliant show, even 

5 - Justified

Based on my favourite Elmore Leonard creations - US Marshall Raylan Givens - Justified had a strong first season that really grabbed me. Mostly it was the cool moments cribbed from Leonard's own writing, but it was also something in Timothy Oliphant's turn as Givens that grabbed me. Then Season 2 came along, turned everything on its head, ensured that this was a drama that was about more than just solving a crime. It became a show about families, about what they mean to us. And it quickly became one of the best goddamn shows I'd seen in a long time. Effortlessly cool, and unexpectedly smart, Justified is absolutely brilliant television.

4 - Spiral

The show that changed French TV for the better is a labarynthe, complex series that owes a huge debt to America's THE WIRE in the way that it mixes procedural machinations with a cynical examination of the justice system in modern Paris. The cops are flawed human beings, the judges are subject to their own failings and the criminals are often far more complex than we might at first assume. Every season works in its own story arc, but threads that you thought long gone soon re-emerge when you least expect them. This is appointment TV at its finest, and crime drama with a brilliant coating of true French cool.

3 - NYPD Blue

This is the one that might get me in trouble as a lot of people do prefer Homicide to Blue. But frankly Blue is the show that really got gritty first. Those first few seasons, where Andy Sipowicz was at his drop down drunk worst were compelling television as Blue presented cops who were every bit as human as the people on the mean streets they patrolled. And while, like Homicide, Blue got more comfortable in its later years, the creators acknowledged this by refocussing the show on Andy Sipowcz's evolution. And any show that can take the lead from early 90s sitcom Saved By The Bell and make him into a credible and - more importantly - a foil for Dennis Franz's powerhouse performance as Sipowicz deserves to be hailed as a classic.

2 - The Sopranos

The two and one slots are interchangeable in my book. The Sopranos is simply one of the greatest character studies ever committed to television. Tony Soprano is more than just a mob boss; he's a barometer of the times. He's all our worst instincts in one empathetic package, and even when he tries to do the right thing, its often in the wrong way. That any show can make us care for not only Tony but his wholly sociopathic crew is a minor miracle. But care we do, so much so that when that final shot aired, you could hear the collective gasps of nations of TV viewers who all took something different and personal from the meaning of those final moments.

1 - The Wire

After the dry run of Homicide and the HBO adaptation of The Corner, David Simons produced this incredible examination of the modern world wrapped up in the guise of a crime show. More than cops and robbers, The Wire was all about the evolution of a city, a microcosm of humanity on a larger scale. It was a show about injustices on small and grand scales. It was about how all our lives are determined by larger forces. It was about how we must recognise injustice to make any kind of chance. And it was about some of the most complex and most completely human cops ever put on television. The Wire was television as novel, and frankly, it reinvigorated the television cop show to remind us of the power of visual storytelling and how it can be as subtle and thought provoking as any straight prose.

For those wondering, there are shows I have missed. The Shield, for example, never really quite worked for me. Mostly down to Vic Mackey, a character who never really evolved over the show (although that may have been the point) and the fact that the show reveled a bit too much in its own over the top approach. I'm not denying its fans, but it never quite held together for me. Law and Order and CSI were all huge shows, but again they never worked for me in the same way that many of these shows did. And yes, I have a US bias, but its the same as in my reading that there's something about the US way with dialogue that always seems to work for me. Its a personal list, so feel free to disagree in the comments or remind me about the great goddamn TV crime shows I may have missed...

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Have you been the victim of a crime?

by: Joelle Charbonneau

No, I’m not talking about feeling mugged after filing your taxes or knowing you were ripped off after paying full price to see the newest, and lamest, blockbuster movie. During jury duty (yeah, I’m back to talking about jury duty again), the judge questioned all of us potential jurors. One of the questions was “Have you or someone you know been the victim of a crime?”

My answer was yes. My cousin was shot and killed years ago by an angry boyfriend who went to the wrong apartment. Also, a friend of mine was shot in the head while walking home at night. Thankfully, he survived.

For some reason I was shocked to hear everyone answer yes. Wow…was crime that rampant? More interesting still was the crimes that people listed. Almost half the people said their car window had been broken. Well, when we lived in the city our car window was broken a number of times. It never occurred to me to claim that under the heading of “being a victim of a crime”. One woman said she forgot her purse on a bench, realized it hours later and went back to get it only to find it had been stolen. Another guy said his cousin’s house was robbed about twenty years before.

Maybe sitting in a jury box for an impending murder trial made me automatically think about big crimes – capital C Crimes. Murder, kidnapping, assault, armed robbery. I never really thought about the small things like a broken window or a misplaced and subsequently stolen purse.

But aren’t those what some of the best crime stories are about? Yeah, we all love a great murder mystery – at least I do – but the story that revolves around a misplaced wallet can be just as compelling. The lost/stolen purse really got me thinking. What if someone who took that purse got something he or she wasn’t expecting? What if that small act of theft turned into something much bigger? What if that person ended up running for his or her life simply because they didn’t turn the purse into lost and found? What if?

As writers, it's our job to ask “What if?” about everything. You never know which “What if” might inspire the next great story. I have to admit that the book I just started was inspired by me asking “What if” about that jury case… What kind of events or “What if” moments have inspired you?

And for all you moms out there - Happy Mother's Day!