Our world is frightened by ‘evil’ kids. The word ‘juvenile delinquents’ is seen as a ponderous term to describe something dark and distressing. Part of the reason for why we and our media get intrigued by youngster committing soulless act is because it allegedly confirms our inner fears that the young generation is corrupted by the meaningless advances of nature. We the adults could easily embrace the idea that the current generation of teenagers are monsters, dallying with murderous intent. It’s not just us, but it’s what the previous generation (our parents) thought of us too. The 1924 case of Nathan Leopold and Richard Leob made the older generation of the era to think that the good world they have known is beginning to end. The vile social experiment done by 19 year old Leopold & Leob definitely make us cringe and coerces us to blame it all on the corrupt nature of modern teenagers. But, what we fail to contemplate is the inherent flawed layers of our society that perpetually breeds the indifference or twisted sense of superiority over the fellow human beings. By cursing the so-called modernity, the old generation tries to severe evil as an outside entity, having no connection with their society.
The 1924 was the era in America (before Great Depression)
when illicit alcohol and rejoicing prosperity were the talking points. But, the
meaningless crime of Leopold & Leob gave the American public and media to
chew upon an outrageous act in a civilized society. The boy’s homosexuality,
Jazz, booze and Nietzche’s ‘Ubermensch’ were brought under scrutiny to find
concrete reason for the killing of a harmless 14 year old boy Robert Franks
(newspaper called the case ‘crime of the century’). The murdering duo admitted
that the killing was a social experiment to demonstrate their intellectual
superiority, before being caught by carelessness. From Alfred Hitchcock’s
“Rope” to Michael Haneke’s “Funny Games”, the Leopold & Leob case had a
great influence in cinema. In 1956, Meyer Levin wrote a novel based on his personal
knowledge of the case, which was adapted to screen by Richard Murphy and
efficiently directed by Richard Fleischer (“Soylent Green”, “Boston
Strangler”). And, although Fleischer’s “Compulsion” (1959) never proclaims that
it is based on the 1924 murder case (the names of Leopold and Leob are changed
to Judd Steiner and Arthur Strauss respectively), the narrative vividly follows
the real-life events.
Of all Nietzche’s ideas, his concept of ‘Ubermensch’
(‘Superhuman’, explained in his book ‘Thus Spoke Zarathustra’) has received a
lot of criticism as the embodiment of amorality. From the racial twist added by
Nazis to the Superman’s archenemy ‘Lex Luthor’, Nietzche’s thoughts were often
interpreted to call for the enslavement of weak and domination of intellectual
superiors. Judd Steiner (Dean Stockwell) shows similar clumsiness in grasping
the ‘Superhuman’ concept and revels in superior detachment. Judd is a talented
a ornithologist, scion of rich Chicago family and a introvert with repressed
rage. His odd, extroverted, wealthy friend Artie (Bradford Dillman) also
believes in their superiority and he wants to take it further. They both are
pursuing law studies in a reputed university. Despite the homoerotic overtones,
the relationship between Judd and Artie doesn’t divulge the idea of romantic
love. Artie wants to prove the idea of their superiority. And, so the due start
with a petty crime of robbing fraternity houses. When Artie drives Judd’s car,
he sees a gesticulating drunk in the middle of the road, he wants to commit a
murder, just for the fun of doing and getting away from it.
Judd refuses to commit the murder, but Artie’s dominating
mindset provokes Judd to prove his intellectually superiority theories. A
little later, a 14 year old boy is brutally murdered. Judd and Artie’s fellow
classmate (and budding reporter) Sid Brooks (Martin Milner) helps the police
for positive identification of Kessler and Sid finds glasses along the body,
which doesn’t belong to Kessler. It soon becomes clear that it was Judd, who
had lost his glasses while disposing of the young boy’s corpse after kidnapping
and killing him (with the help of Artie). It isn’t long before District Attorney
Mr. Horn’s (E.G. Marshall) scrutinizing eyes falls on the young, rich boys with
a water-tight alibi. Of course, Mr. Horn breaks through their intellect and in
comes the famous lawyer Jonathan Wilk (Orson Welles) as defense attorney. While
Wilk without ignoring the suffering of victim and the grieving family, puts on
trial the furious demands of public, capital punishment and the legal system.
The narration of “Compulsion” is divided into three parts:
the first concentrating on odd, symbiotic as well as envious friendship between
Artie and Judd, while the second is designed as cat-and-mouse game between
Attorney Horn and the two delinquents, and final part belongs to Wilk, who
meditates upon the issue of capital punishment. But, the script handles all
these transitions in a slightly impromptu manner that emotional impact for a
viewer lessens with each part. Richard Brooks’ true crime masterpiece “In Cold
Blood” (the movie’s seamless editing is unforgettable) faced a similar kind of
challenge to portray events before the murder and the societal frenzy, legal
proceedings post-murder. Due to strict production codes, back in the 1950’s,
director Fleischer weren’t able to portray the gruesome reality experienced by
Paul Kessler and there wasn’t also a chance to show the boy’s corpse. Martin
Milner, who plays Sid, effectively enacts the emotional shock of seeing the corpse of brutally murdered boy, but when compared to the visceral impact of
“In Cold Blood”, in relation to the murder of innocent family and the subsequent
hanging of perpetrators, “Compulsion” remains less remarkable. Apparently the engrossing, anti-capital
punishment speech made by Wilks doesn’t disregard the suffering of Kessler and
his family, but I think this film hasn’t made the leap to be the most powerful
film it could have been.
Director Richard Fleischer effectively stages the movie’s
key sequences. Consider the scene, when Mr. Horn explains how the glasses could
only belong to Judd. Mr. Horn places the glasses on a table, waits for Judd’s
response and there Fleischer uses a static shot, where the passage of time is
gracefully defined. Later, we learn in passing that Judd has agreed about
losing the glass. Although, the sole presence of such shots is to save time,
considering the lengthy procedure involved with the murder trial, it is
established effectively. After Wilks delivering his emotional closing speech,
district attorney Horn slowly rises from his seat, and waits until Wilks takes
his seat. It’s a simple gesture of respect or commendation from one attorney to
the other. “Compulsion” isn’t without the hints of melodrama, but director
Fleischer for the most part restraints from loud emotions or childish gestures.
Welles’ final monologue about the capital punishment doesn’t come off
heavy-handed. He makes his points with a grace that’s missing nowadays in
courtroom dramas (shouting and pounding fists have become a regular element).
One of the important reasons to watch this film is to experience the acting
performances of three leads. Stockwell, Dillman and Welles shared ‘Best Actor
Award’ at the 1959 Cannes Film Festival, whose performances smooths out some of
the irregular transitions in the script.
Trailer
“Compulsion” (108 minutes) is an intriguing character study
and social drama that ponders over a purposeless, malevolent crime. It isn’t
extremely powerful like the other classics of ‘True Crime’, but a must watch
for Welles fans and for those meditating upon the nature of evil.
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