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In 1992 the award-winning documentary maker Nick Broomfield made Aileen: The Selling of a Serial Killer which examined the media exploitation of the death sentences given to Aileen Wournos, dubbed America's first female serial killer. Ten years later, with Wournos still on death row, Broomfield was called to a Florida court to give evidence in the final hearings before her death. This film, which starts where the first left off, serves an effective and understated indictment of the death penalty.
Aileen Wournos' life does not make pleasant reading. Abused at home, pregnant and on drugs by the age of 13, she spent the rest of her life as a hitchhiking prostitute, wandering aimlessly across America. In the late 80s she was arrested and charged with the murder of six men in Floridian backwaters: the media had a field day, the police officers (and even members of her family) spent more time trying to get Hollywood deals for the story than they did ever really investigating the circumstances.
There is little doubt that Wournos killed the men, but the reasons for doing so have varied wildly. While she initially claimed self-defence, by 2002 she was so fed up with being on Death Row that she changes her plea to guilty -candidly admitting to Broomfield that she would rather die that continue her fruitless existence.
Much of the initial action is taken up in the 2002 court case, where Broomfield's own earlier film is used in evidence. Many of the characters from the previous film return and it is sadly clear that most of them are more interested by what they can get out of the case rather than the question of whether or not Wournos deserved to die. Only Broomfield asks these difficult questions, and as he begins to form an unlikely attachment with Aileen (who even Broomfield admits has an increasingly weak grasp on reality) he posits the question of how she can be executed given such circumstances.
This is one of Broomfield's most personal films. Those who accuse him of consistent self-promotion will be disappointed to find an honest individual asking questions that everyone else is ignoring. His deadpan voiceover and adroit humour also give the film entertainment value, and as an essay on why the death penalty is flawed it much more compelling than this year's other film about the subject, Alan Parker's mawkish The Life of David Gale.