It’s almost hard to believe that I saw the first Paradise Lost film when I was only thirteen. My family has always had HBO: sometimes legally, sometimes illegally and their late night documentaries were an early obsession of mine. Paradise Lost: The Child Murders at Robin Hood Hills introduced us to a small town murder and a tale more engrossing than a six hour marathon of Law and Order: SVU. On May 6th, 1993 in West Memphis, Arkansas three eight year old boys were brutally murdered, their tiny nude bodies and bicycles left in a ditch. Three teenage outcasts: Damien Echols, Jason Baldwin, and Jessie Misskelley Jr. are quickly rounded up and accused of their murder. The “evidence” consisting of little more than a love of black clothing, Metallica, and possession of some unique haircuts. The tide of whispers against the three and rumors of Satanism silenced the defense and any investigation of additional suspects. Add to that an understaffed police force buckling under the weight of a sophisticated homicide and a poorly processed crime scene. The film ends on a somber note with all three being convicted and beginning their new life behind bars.
Five years later the filmmakers revisit West Memphis for Paradise Lost 2: The Ballad of Mark Byers. The second films focuses of the families, support groups for the accused and their appeals. The incarcerated boys are now men and it’s obvious they did not understand the gravity of their situation at the time. Damien now sits on death row. The film garnered them national attention, the moniker The West Memphis Three, and some friends and supporters in high places. Yet they still have their enemies, mainly in Mark Byers: a stepfather of one of the victims. Byers belongs on a golden era Jerry Springer Show set. His crooked smile, slow draw, and humble bible belt roots giving way to this larger than life persona. You can almost hear that Deliverance banjo playing whenever he enters the frame. But when he invites the cameras to follow him, suspicions of his involvement grow. New evidence is introduced and disputed between experts, each subsequent appeal is rejected and another chapter begins.
And now we arrive at Paradise Lost 3: Purgatory. Eighteen years later so many questions still remain. Why was their no blood at the scene? Who was the man at the Bojangles restaurant? Why wasn’t stepfather Terry Dobbs initially questioned? Are there bite marks on the bodies? Etc. The saddest part of this trilogy is in the sheer number of victims. Not only the men incarcerated but the families and the young murder victims who almost take a back seat to the narrative of the sensational trial of the West Memphis Three. After nearly eighteen years behind bars they are freed in what is called an Alfred Plea: a grim epilogue that only adds more mystery to this story. Truth is truly stranger than fiction. It’s safe to say that Damien, Jason, and Jessie owe their lives to filmmakers Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky. Miscarriages of justice like this happen everyday and not everyone is fortunate enough to have not only cameras rolling but a very captive audience.
