Running time: 150 minutes
Starring: Damian Wayne Echols, Jason Baldwin, Jessie Miskelly,
Rating 9 out of 10
Directors Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky could have had little idea of the impact their 1994 film Paradise Lost was going to have. What began as a study of a murder trial in the rural location of West Memphis continues twelve years later as a highly-organised campaign to release three men from prison. Celebrity support, hotshot lawyers and a groundswell of public opinion have, nonetheless, failed to move the justice system one inch. The film, which began as a project for HBO, had the happy coincidence of many great documentaries to stumble on something quite extraordinary that went beyond the surroundings of the courtroom and put the cherished American legal system under the microscope. After the horrific torture and murder of three young boys in the woods of Memphis in 1993, three teenagers were arrested and formally charged with the murders. The cameras are ever-present in court during the subsequent trial and reveal an astonishing example of the law being an ass: in the end the boys are convicted on no solid evidence and simply because they wore black, listened to Metallica and acted a little oddly. The eldest of the trio, Damien Echols, was sentenced to death.
In 2000, Berlinger and Sinofsky returned to find out what had happened and discovered that Echols was still on death row, with the other two facing little chance of parole. While the directors are now prevented from filming any appeals, they manage to unearth a rich seam of new information: by examining in more detail the scene of the crime, and by focusing on the bizarre behaviour of one of the victim's fathers, as well as illuminating interviews with the judge and the chief police officer in the case. Yet, as the official website for the three prisoners (www.wm3.org) displays, the resolution has yet to please its supporters.
The film pulls no punches and shows extremely upsetting images of the murders, but it becomes essential to see them realise the incredible magnitude of the crime and all of its implications. Underscored by Metallica's music (it's no surprise that the band chose them to film the superlative documentary Some Kind of Monster), the film has an edgy, haunting feel, but always retains a sense of impartiality, even when the film-makers themselves become involved in events. Warp Film's excellent two-disc release is a must for any collector.
Paul Hurley
