West of Memphis

Image courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics

 

In May of 1993, 2^nd graders Steven Branch, Michael Moore, and Christopher Byers were brutally murdered in West Memphis, Arkansas.  Outrage, fear, a loud cry for justice from the community, and a botched police investigation led to the arrest of teenagers Damien Echols, Jessie Misskelley, Jr., and Jason Baldwin, under the belief they had committed the murders as part of a Satanic ritual.  One year later, the defendants, collectively known as the West Memphis 3, were charged, tried, and convicted for the crime.  Misskelley and Baldwin were sentenced to life in prison.  Echols was sent to death row.

The case of the West Memphis 3 garnered national attention thanks to the three documentary films made for HBO by Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky about the trial and its aftermath.  When the first film, Paradise Lost: The Child Murders at Robin Hood Hills, hit the airwaves in 1996, people were aghast at the injustice dealt by the Arkansas legal system to Echols, Baldwin, and Misskelley. Various support groups across the country were formed to help the WM3.  With the 2000 release of their second film, Paradise Lost 2: Revelations, came even more public awareness along with celebrity backing of the WM3, including a New Zeland filmmaker by the name of Peter Jackson. 

Jackson and his wife Fran Walsh contacted Echols via his wife, Lorri Davis, whom Echols married in a 1996 Buddhist ceremony at the Arkansas correctional facility where he was being held, offering support and anonymous financial assistance for Echols and his newly assembled, top notch defense team.  When the results of the new investigation revealed nothing short of a gross miscarriage of justice, Echols’ attorneys submitted their findings to the WM3’s original trial judge, David Burnett, who immediately dismissed it.

At that point, Jackson & Walsh decided it was time to make their own documentary film and brought in director Amy Berg, whose last documentary, Deliver Us From Evil, got inside the mind of a pedophile while exposing the blatant cover up of sex crimes within the Catholic diocese.  In West of Memphis, Berg exposes coerced confessions, jury misconduct, recanted witness testimony, new witness testimony, and exculpatory DNA evidence in the now infamous case against the West Memphis 3.

In September of 2011, Sinofsky and Berlinger released their third and final installment in the Paradise Lost series, which contains most of the same information that Berg’s film offers.  However, where the two films differ is in the presentation of the new evidence.  Paradise Lost 3: Purgatory takes a journalistic approach to pointing the finger at Terry Hobbs, the stepfather of Steven Branch, after DNA links him to the rope used to tie the three victims.  West of Memphis comes across as more of an advocacy film as it goes straight for the jugular of Terry Hobbs.  Not only does Berg catch him lying multiple times to authorities on camera, she digs through his violent past, shows just how much of a sonofabitch he really is, then turns around and drops one hell of a bombshell via witness testimony from Hobbs’ own nephews. 

Berg was also able to gain interviews with the original trial prosecutor, Scott Ellington, whom would not appear in the Paradise Lost films.  When asked why, Ellington replied, “I need to reach my voters.”  Unfortunately, Ellington’s selfish needs weren’t the only political concerns addressed in the film, which also mentions how keeping the West Memphis 3 in jail is to the career advantage of state officials, primarily Judge Burnett.  None of the new evidence, including exculpatory evidence, was never accepted by the courts until the case went before a new judge.  

Going along with the state of Arkansas refusing to admit that they made a horrendous mistake in convicting Echols, Baldwin, and Misskelley, is their confusing Alford plea, which has them pleading guilty while maintaining their innocence.  In essence, the Alford plea is the state’s way of saying, “Oops.  We screwed up, but we’re not going to admit it.  So, we’re going to let you out of jail, but make you plead guilty so you can’t sue the state for wrongful incarceration.” 

It’s enough to make you scream when Berg all but offers up Terry Hobbs on a platter to the courts and law enforcement officials via the new DNA evidence and witness testimony in the film, knowing that the state considers the case closed and will not be pursuing any other suspects for the murders of Steven Branch, Michael Myers, and Christopher Byers.  Eventually, you find yourself wondering which you should fear most – a cold blooded killer on the loose or the seeming unlimited corruption of our judicial system.

Ironically, my own introduction to the West Memphis 3 case happened in the most unlikely of places, a law enforcement agency.  In the spring of 1997, the police department for which I was working at the time screened the first Paradise Lost film to their current class of cadets.  The lawyer who showed the film used it as a teaching tool on how NOT to run an investigation.  After one viewing, the entire academy class seriously doubted the involvement of the suspects, instead wanting to know why no one ever looked at any of the victim’s family members before focusing on Echols, Misskelley, and Baldwin.  Excellent question. 

Yet, in light of all the damning new evidence exposed by Berg’s film, nagging thoughts still remain.  A segment of the documentary is spent interviewing witnesses from the original trial who are now recanting their statements.  Later, new “bombshell” witness testimony is presented.  How do we know the new bombshell testimony won’t also be recanted for whatever reason later on down the road?  We don’t.  Granted, Berg pretty much proves otherwise, but the doubt is still there whether we like it or not.

The film also addresses the issue of reductive vilification.  Echols, Baldwin, and Misskelley were originally convicted because people mistakenly accused them of being Satanists.  A few years later, before the introduction of DNA evidence, Paradise Lost 2 mistakenly accused Mark Byers of being the murderer.  Now, everyone’s pointing the finger at Terry Hobbs.  Does he round out the trifecta portion in this case’s history of reductive vilification?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  However, proving that someone is a sonofabitch, doesn’t prove that they’re a murderer. Unfortunately, with the Alford Plea officially closing the case in the eyes of the law, we’ll probably never find out. 

 

© LeftFromHollywood 1/2013
Running Time:	2 hours 30 minutes
Release Date:	January 25, 2013
MPAA Rating:	N/A (documentary)
Distributor:	Sony Pictures Classics