Why do people kill each other? It’s a question that I think
about, perhaps too often. Greed, jealousy, revenge? To solve a sticky relationship problem — such
as unwanted spouses who won’t go away on their own. Or maybe to end a loved one’s suffering? For the greater good? The crowded lifeboat
debate. But the other question is why
are so many others so curious about the subject? It’s not really a pleasant
subject.
I know that eating too many Pepperidge Farms Chesapeake
cookies is unhealthy and that to outsmart myself I must never buy more than one
bag at a time. I feel similarly about my
diet of crime fiction, especially on Saturday when, because I’m an anti-social
curmudgeon, I binge on true crime as served by “48 Hours,” “Dateline,” and “20/20.”
The long, drawn-out dramas chronicling human sadness cannot be that healthful
for the brain. But just as carrots and kale
cannot satisfy certain hungers, neither can mind-improving or soul-lifting
drama cure the apparent need for the seamy side of life.
For the most part, I’m not talking about wars or terrorism,
or even the collateral damage of an armed robbery, though understanding the
murderous psyche might help us there, but murders of a personal nature, where,
in some fashion, victim and perpetrator know each other or in instances when
the driving force behind the murder is mysterious in and of itself.
Murder. Movies are made of this. True-life murders are a
staple of small-screen, low-budget, but often riveting productions. They show
how dilemmas in the ordinary lives of ordinary people ratchet into
irretrievable acts of violence. The big-screen nonfiction dramas are usually
about people we all know because the media was obsessed with the crime or the
people involved, or because it reflects a larger theme.
 |
| From the film, Swoon |
The court proceedings for two young men, Leopold and Loeb,
for the murder of a young student Bobby Franks in 1924, was billed as the
“trial of the century.” The kidnappers and victim were children of exceedingly
wealthy parents.
Loeb, obsessed with the
philosopher Friedrich Nietzche, had latched onto an interpretation of the “superman
principle,” that if you are smart enough, you are not bound by the laws
designed for ordinary humans.
Loeb thought
of himself smart enough and convinced Leopold, follower and lover, to commit
the perfect crime. It wasn’t perfect, apparently. The boys were on their way to
an almost certain death penalty. The most famous American attorney of this or
any time, Clarence Darrow represented the defense. Scandalous for its
homosexual overtones, the trial of he century was also one of the nation’s mot
important trials because of the capital punishment implications as well as its
philosophical “superman” backdrop. The Leopold & Loeb trial was made for
the cinema. The story inspired
three major films — Alfred Hitchcock’s
Rope,
Compulsion with Orson Welles, and
Swoon, which had spelled out the story’s gay component,
intentionally downplayed in previous versions.
 |
| From the film, Reversal of Fortune |
Later, actor Jeremy Irons portrayed the social climbing
Claus Von Bulow in another torrid trial concerning the death of Von Bulow’s
wealthy, high-society wife, Sunny. Von Bulow was successfully defended by celebrity
lawyer Alan Dershowitz and was made into the movie,
Reversal of Fortune. The film was was a hit and Irons earned an
Academy Award for his portrayal of the ice-cold Von Bulow, who had well more
than his 15 minutes of fame.
In the 1950s, the murder of
Dr. Sam Sheppard’s pregnant wife
dominated the media. The surgeon claimed he was struck and knocked unconscious,
but that he saw the murderer in a long coat leaving the scene of the crime. The
story was splashed all over the tabloids and the mainstream media followed.
Sheppard was eventually acquitted with help
of media favorite attorney, F. Lee Bailey.
Though no one claimed it was Sheppard’s story there is little doubt the
crime and the mystery surrounding it inspired the incredibly popular film,
The Fugitive, and the successful TV series
also bearing that name.
 |
| From the TV series, The Fugiive |
There are other films based on real-life murders. The lesser
known
Prick Up Your Ears —
a film based on the book of the same name—
tells the story of naughty British playwright
Joe Orton and Kenneth Halliwell,
his lover and sometimes writing partner, who hammered Orton to death before
killing himself in their claustrophobically tiny apartment, a room almost too
small for one.
Why has always been the most important question of the
journalistic “w’s” for me. I’m told I drove my elementary school teachers crazy
with that question. I continue. Again, I’m not talking about wars, revolutions
or drive-bys. That’s a good question as well. But mine is: Why do people kill people one-on-one? Is there
any unified theory explaining why people do this? They seem to rarely get away with it. Perhaps
there is no simple answer. However, I’d like to propose one.
Self-preservation.
Not necessarily self-defense as we understand it; but self-preservation
in the broadest sense. Preserving the self can include doing what’s necessary
to preserve one’s perception of self or pursuing the self as one wants to
perceive it or be perceived by others. In the case of Von Bulow, we have a
fellow who grew up in the shadow of wealth and privilege, yet always dependent
upon another for his station in life. His family served the wealthy. He served Jean Paul Getty as an assistant. He married into wealth and privilege, but was
always privilege’s husband. He was acquitted of attempted murder by insulin injection,
(his wife lived on in a coma). The
young, handsome, respected Dr. Sheppard was about to have a child, which would
have inhibited any choice to live a more adventurous life perhaps an alternate
fantasy during a mid-life crisis to that of a quiet, reserved family man, bound
by the conventions of that status. After
acquittal, the good doctor became a professional wrestler.
Did Leopold and Loeb have to prove to themselves that they
were smarter than anyone else to justify their belief they occupied a rarefied
space superior to that of ordinary mortals? It wasn’t a matter of preservation
of the body, the physical self, but that special place they thought they
occupied. They failed miserably. The irony is that if they had achieved or were
deserving of the “superman,” or “overman” label as Nietzsche defined it, they
would never have sought it or felt the need to prove it. The death of Bobby Franks was completely
senseless. The trial itself wasn’t one of guilt or innocence. The evidence was
clear. The boys confessed. No perfect crime for them. Darrow’s job wasn’t easy
but the goal was simple: to prevent the two self-proclaimed geniuses from being
sentenced to death. He did, though Loeb was stabbed to death in prison. Leopold
was eventually paroled and surprisingly made serious contributions to humanity
in ways Nietzsche might have actually recognized as the work of the Overman he
described.
 |
| From the film, Prick Up Your Ears |
Why did Halliwell kill Orton? They were partners/lovers,
co-conspirators in life. Because their
identities were intertwined and for Halliwell interdependent. Orton’s success pulled his friend into the
spotlight. Soon it was not Orton and
Halliwell, but Orton and his increasingly nameless friend, and then Orton. Only
Orton. Orton further threatened their
shared identity by going his own way not only as a writer, but by eventually
finding another lover. What did that
leave Halliwell? They died together,
within moments of each other. Was Halliwell not trying to protect himself
despite the fact he was the man with the hammer and the overdose? For
Halliwell, perhaps it wasn’t murder-suicide, but only suicide. Hadn’t he, in his
perception, only killed himself for his failure to achieve a self?
Certainly self-preservation is built in. We will do
everything we can to save our own lives.
Most would do all they can to save the lives of loved ones. One can make
the case that we could not live with ourselves
if we didn’t. I think that instinct, at
least for us humans who are self-conscious and who try to create meaning for
why we live, is basic to understanding why we kill. On the surface, it may be that someone
disrespected us, stole from us, had something (money, position, love) that we
felt was necessary for our survival that provides motive. But the base need
always relates to survival of the self as we define it or understand it to be. At least that’s the theory.
Instead of going for Indiana Jones, Hans Solo, or Jack Ryan,
characters he helped make icons, there are several films that are especially
well done thrillers: Frantic, Witness, and Presumed Innocent. They are well worth your time. Then there are
those in which Ford adds just enough to standard fare, making what might
otherwise be a mere modest evening’s entertainment an enjoyable adventure. Here are two:
The Fugitive — This is a story thrice told. It is based,
however loosely, on real life story in which a physician is accused of killing
his wife. The reporting of of the crime and trials were sensationalized and
formed the basis for the wildly popular TV series starring David Janssen and making the “one-armed man” a regularly used
phrase to create doubt in an excuse or alibi. In film as in the TV series, to
prove his innocence he must be free to find the actual murderer. But the main
pursuer is no idiot and he has resources the lonely runner does not. It is cat
and mouse all the way. Who knows why anyone would try to top the TV show? But
producer Roy Huggins and his crew
did so in a remarkably successful way.
The 1993 movie, with Harrison as fugitive Dr. Kimble accused of the
crime, goes on the run and the rest is cinematic history. This was a huge box
office triumph and whatever negative criticism surfaced was buried in the
film’s success. In the end The Fugitive not
only made tons of money, but was also nominated for seven Academy Awards, with Tommy Lee Jones winning Best Supporting
Actor for his role as the chaser in this thrilling chase movie. Andrew Davis directed.
