Film to explore gay-bashing in friendly, liberal community

Lawrence "Mikey" Partida's injuries

It was a tragic end to his 32nd birthday celebration. As Lawrence “Mikey” Partida left his cousin’s house, a young neighbor confronted him, hurling antigay epithets before beating Partida unconscious. The slightly built long-distance runner and grocery clerk was left with a fractured skull and a piece of wooden fence post embedded behind his eye. He underwent months of surgery and rehabilitation.

The event shocked the idyllic university community of Davis, California. Nestled between San Francisco and the state’s capital city of Sacramento, the town of 65,000 is ranked among the best places to live in America, with a reputation as safe, welcoming, liberal, educated and bicycle-friendly.

Perhaps more surprising than the assault itself was the identity of the perpetrator, and his kid-gloves treatment by the criminal justice system.

Clay Garzon

Clayton “Clay” Garzon, then 19, is the son of two well respected physicians, one of them a prominent humanitarian. Yet notwithstanding his privileged and progressive upbringing, this was not his first violent attack; he was awaiting trial on charges stemming from a drunken brawl the year before in which four young men were stabbed. Despite the fact that he was out on bail already when he mercilessly beat Partida, he was approved for bail of only $75,000, allowing his immediate release yet again. He ultimately pled guilty to assault, battery and hate crime charges in exchange for a sentence of five years in the local county jail, under a prison realignment law (AB 109) intended only for non-violent offenses.

Despite having used antigay slurs before, during and after the assault, Garzon and his attorney insisted that the attack was not motivated by antigay animus.

Forensic linguistics

Of potential interest to this blog's audience, the defense called an expert in the new field of forensic linguistics, who opined that Garzon's use of the term faggot was "more consistent with challenging [Partida's] masculinity" than with hatred. William Eggington, a linguistics professor from Brigham Young University, testified at Garzon's preliminary hearing that a tolerant family upbringing in a liberal community "would lower the possibility that this would be a gender- related crime." 

This testimony highlights a vexing problem with so-called “hate crime laws.” Their very name fosters a misimpression that bias crimes are necessarily motivated by hatred. As I found in my research with antigay assailants, this is far from the case. Such crimes are often driven more by instrumental goals such as fitting in with a peer group or demonstrating visible proof of masculinity than by outright animus. As the prosecutor, Jonathan Raven of the Yolo County District Attorney's Office, pointed out, hatred is not a requisite element of a hate crime: “One simply has to be motivated by a bias, in whole or in part.” The idea behind the enhanced penalty is that by attacking a person based even in part on his or her group membership, one is causing fear in the targeted class. As Raven noted in a statement, “certainly the crime in this case caused those in the LGBT community to be fearful.”

Further complicating Garzon's motivations is the fact that he lashed out at Partida when the gay man told him to stop pestering Partida’s female cousin, whom Garzon had been aggressively pursuing all night long.

Unpacking violence

Disentangling the complex and multifaceted roots of violence is the goal of anthropologist and filmmaker Daniel Bruun, who is producing a film, “Davisville 2013,” on the case.

Bruun, a Davis native, closely followed the case for a year as it wended its way through the legal system, recording more than 50 hours of courtroom proceedings and interviews. He even tracked down the victims in Garzon’s other case.

Ironically, while Partida experienced an outpouring of support from the Davis community, including an appeal from Sikh leaders for higher bail, Garzon’s other victims, young working-class white men who were not a member of a protected minority, were not feeling the love. As candlelight vigils were held in Davis for Partida, police in nearby Dixon couldn’t even be bothered to investigate, according to Bruun’s investigation.

“If [Garzon] never would’ve done that [hate crime], he probably never

Candlelight vigil for Partida

would’ve gone to jail -- ever,” lamented one of the forgotten stabbing victims. “It hurts that they didn’t really care for us.” 

In a front-page interview in the Davis Enterprise last week, Bruun said he first started contemplating the causes of seemingly senseless and random violence when he was in junior high school, and a 14-year-old Davis boy was beaten, robbed of two dollars and pushed into a moving train by three local teens. “I was affected by it, but I felt like the story was never told in a complete way,” Bruun told reporter Lauren Keene.

He seized upon the Davis case as a chance to tell a bigger story, about the causes of male youth violence as well as its impact on victims, communities, and even the assailants themselves.

“It seemed like an opportunity to tell a story like that in the best way possible -- to be involved in it as the story is unfolding.”

Filmmaker (right) with Partida

Bruun’s prior documentaries included anthropologically informed explorations of underground cultures in Manchester, England and The Bronx; his short film Temporary Sanity is on the Royal Anthropological Institute's recommended curriculum for anthropology undergraduates in Great Britain.

Bruun is kicking off a month-long fundraising campaign on Indiegogo, a San Francisco-based fundraising website. He hopes to raise $10,000 to complete the project.

Bruun plans to interview me along with prominent hate crime expert Gregory Herek of the University of California at Davis. I realize that I just put the word out about fundraising for another documentary, on violence against transgender women of color (again involving me as an expert), but if you feel so inclined, here’s a link to donate to Bruun’s worthy Davisville 2013 project as well. 

Documentary targets family courts and custody evaluators

Stuck in the middle of nowhere on a case, I happened to catch the new documentary No Way Out But One, depicting injustices against abused women and children in U.S. family courts. Of potential interest to blog readers, the film critiques the role of child custody evaluators as usurping the authority of fact finders by substituting their own judgments for the facts.

No Way Out highlights the internationally known case of Holly Collins, who fled with her son Zachary and daughter Jennifer in 1994 after her husband was granted sole custody by a court in Minnesota. According to the film, the judge ignored evidence of domestic violence and child abuse, including a skull fracture to the boy. After a circuitous flight through Canada and Guatemala, Collins eventually won asylum in the Netherlands. By the time the FBI caught up with the family, the children were adults. In the film, they convincingly describe chronic abuse at the hands of their father. Holly's dynamic daughter, Jennifer, the inspiration for the film, is executive director of Courageous Kids, which empowers children to go public about family court abuse (her blog is HERE).

The Collins children, grown up

The Collins's long-running custody battle featured allegations of Parental Alienation Syndrome, a controversial syndrome in which one parent (most often the mother) is accused of alienating the children from the other parent. Collins was also labeled with another highly contentious diagnosis, Munchausen by Proxy, after she sought medical treatment for her children, whom she says were being injured by their father’s abuse and neglect.

Due in part to Collins's supposed attempts to alienate the children, the father was granted full custody in 1993, and Collins was initially denied even phone or mail contact. Eventually, she was granted supervised visitation, but neither she nor her children were allowed to talk about the father’s abuse. In the film, Collins describes how she and the children secretly exchanged notes by placing them in the refrigerator; in the notes, the children begged for help and she finally promised to rescue them.

Collins became the first American ever granted asylum by the Netherlands. She ultimately married a Dutch man and had four more children. After the FBI located her, she returned to the United States in an effort to vindicate herself. Ultimately, the kidnapping charge was dismissed; she pled guilty to one count of contempt of court in exchange for a sentence of 40 hours of community service.

According to the film, Collins is just one of thousands of mothers forced to go on the run in order to protect their children from abusive fathers who have been granted custody of their children.

Jennifer (L) and Holly Collins (R) with filmmakers Nolan and Waller

Ironically, the film's debut on the Documentary Channel coincides with the publication of a similar story by another woman who is also named Collins. Frances Collins's book, Seashell Prisoners, chronicles her flight from Texas to the Honduras to protect her 3-year-old granddaughter. Her eight-year odyssey ultimately ended in arrest and incarceration.

The film is stoking up antipathy between the battered women's and father's rights camps, with the latter expending significant effort in to debunk the claims of Collins and her children that they were subjected to family violence.

Award-winning filmmaker Garland Waller told a Huffington Post columnist that she chose the Holly Collins case "because I believed her story would break through the barricade set up by the mainstream press." The film expands on last year’s award-winning short, Small Justice, produced on a shoestring by Waller, a communications professor at Boston University, and her husband Barry Nolan, a TV writer and reporter.

In the Huffington Post interview, Waller went on to say that what most surprised her in her involvement with this project was the dumbfounded reaction of members of the general public:

"They just can't believe that … family courts would give custody -- time and time again -- to abusers. But I suppose I really shouldn't be surprised. In both the tragedy of the Catholic Church sex abuse scandal and the Jerry Sandusky thing, ‘good’ people turned a blind eye to the abuse of children. It's the same thing in family courts. It is just heart-breaking that so often when terrified children summon the courage to speak up and tell what is happening to them, even though the abuser has warned them of the terrible consequences if they ever talk... even though we teach children to speak up and to tell the truth...when they speak up against this one awful thing, we just don't listen."

I don’t see any more upcoming airings on the DocumentaryChannel, but the DVD will be going on sale soon, from Passion River Films.  

For people who are trying to stay positive and collaborative while going through a stressful divorce, a Florida law firm has put together a set of helpful tips from top relationship experts: "Coping with Divorce." 

Another one bites the dust: Hollow SVP prosecution no match for jurors' common sense

15 minutes.

After a five-week trial, that's how long it took a jury in a rural Northern California county to decide that an openly gay man who had served two years in prison for a forcible oral copulation of an acquaintance back in 2003 did not merit civil commitment as a sexually violent predator.

The prosecution's case featured a lone government psychologist whose opinion rested on a hollow combination of homophobia, bogus psychiatric diagnoses and trumped-up risk estimates. The psychologist cited archaic (and discredited) Freudian theory to claim that the ex-offender's crime at age 23 was evidence of an "oral incorporation" fixation caused by a domineering mother and an absent biological father. As a legal basis for civil commitment, he cited the bogus disorder of "paraphilia not otherwise specified-nonconsent,” and he used the Static-99R actuarial tool to present a highly inflated estimate of risk.

Testifying for the defense were four psychologists, including two retained by the defense, a government evaluator who had changed her mind (or "flipped," in the current parlance) and the man's treating psychologist at Coalinga State Hospital, who testified in no uncertain terms that "Mr. Smith," as I will call him, is neither mentally disordered nor likely to reoffend.

The defense team had barely left the courthouse when the court clerk summoned them back, saying the jury had reached a verdict. Their astonishingly fast decision hints that the jurors agreed that this case was an egregious example of overzealous prosecution and a waste of their valuable time.

Prior to being screened for possible civil commitment, Mr. Smith had been on parole in the community for 14 months without getting into any trouble whatsoever. Indeed, he was busy doing good works. His sexually violent predator screening stemmed from an entirely accidental parole violation connected with his charity work for a local gay rights organization. He had a special parole condition forbidding any contact with children. When a fellow member of the executive board brought his child to an awards ceremony, Mr. Smith was exposed to "incidental contact as one might have while shopping at a market," in the words of the parole hearing officer. Unfortunately for Mr. Smith, this was just one month after California voters enacted Jessica's Law, which allows for civil commitment of sex offenders who have only one qualifying victim rather than the previous minimum of two.

The prosecutor's strategy, as is typical in weak cases, was to hurl as many prejudicial, pseudoscientific labels as possible in Mr. Smith's direction, and hope a few might stick and scare jurors into voting for civil commitment: Psychopath, antisocial, homosexual, paraphilic, high risk, etc.

While licensed as a psychologist, the government's expert had not done what clinical psychologists are trained to do: Psychological testing, individualized case formulation, etc. Rather, as he boldly admitted on the witness stand, he relied on an assistant to cull through Mr. Smith's hospital records and pull out negative behavioral reports for him to review. Wow! Can you spell B-I-A-S?

In my testimony, which stretched over the course of three days, I stressed that Mr. Smith was neither sexually deviant nor likely to reoffend. His risk of sexual reoffense, I testified, was no greater than that of any other garden-variety sex offender. (The base rate of sexual recidivism among convicted sex offenders in California -- similar to the rest of the United States -- hovers around 6 percent or less.) I explained how growing up gay in a homophobic family and community causes sexual identity confusion that can lead to sexual acting out and other delinquent behavior in adolescence and early adulthood, and how Mr. Smith had changed as he matured and accepted his sexuality. I further debunked the accuracy of the Static-99R "actuarial" risk estimates assigned in this case, and the pretextually applied diagnoses of "paraphilia not otherwise specified-nonconsent" (which I've blogged about repeatedly) and antisocial personality disorder, a red herring that was invoked despite Mr. Smith's exceptionally good conduct in the community and while in prison.

Stacking the deck

The prosecutor tried to stack the deck by striking from the jury all gay people or those who admitted having relatives or close friends who are gay; he also challenged those with advanced educational degrees. I guess he thought it would be easier to pull the wool over the eyes of an uneducated jury. It just goes to show that times have changed: Even in a rural county, antigay discrimination is no longer considered acceptable, and jurors don't need PhD's to recognize bias and pseudoscience when they hear it.  

The verdict was likely a bitter-sweet moment for Mr. Smith, who had spent more than four years incarcerated at Coalinga awaiting trial. Luckily, he has close friends to stay with while getting on his feet.

This is my third SVP case in a row that evaporated when finally exposed to the light of day. Like Mr. Smith's case, one of the other two also featured prominent antigay bias; the other targeted an immigrant. In neither case were the men either pedophiles or rapists.

I suppose I should feel pleased to see such gross miscarriages of justice thwarted. Instead, I find myself horrified by the unfettered power wielded by rogue psychologists, assigned to a case by luck of the draw. Whereas many government evaluators reserve "positive" findings for the rare sex offenders who are truly deviant and at high risk to reoffend, others are just hacks who are raking in obscene amounts of public funds while making little effort to truly understand these men, their motivations, their circumstances, or their pathways to desistance.

Especially frightening is the unconscious bias that creeps into SVP prosecutions. The constructs of "mental disorder" and "risk for reoffense" are malleable, lending themselves to use as pretextual weapons of prejudice wielded against gay men, racial minorities (especially African American men) and immigrants.

Clearly, people shouldn't get away with sexual misconduct. But none of these men had. All had pleaded guilty and served their time, only to be ambushed at the end of their prison terms with misguided efforts to indefinitely detain them based on purported future risk.

As it turned out, each case was about as solid as a house of cards. It didn't take gale-force winds like Hurricane Sandy's to flatten them.

Evaluators flipping like pancakes

The "flipping" of government evaluators illustrated this weak foundation. In two of the three cases, after reading the more thorough and individualized reports of the defense-retained experts, government psychologists abruptly changed their minds and decided that their previously proffered diagnoses of "paraphilia not otherwise-nonconsent" were invalid.

On the one hand, I applaud the openness and ethical backbone such a change of heart signals. But these "flips" also demonstrate the whimsical, nonscientific nature of the commitment process. The longer I work in these trenches, the more I realize that the random assignment of evaluators and attorneys (on both sides) exerts as much influence on the outcome as does the true level of future risk to the community that an ex-offender poses.

Indeed, the real reason Mr. Smith -- clearly not a sexual predator to anyone with a whit of commons sense -- was taken to trial, at a total cost to the citizenry of hundreds of thousands of dollars, was not because of his high risk, but because of a rigid prosecutor who was blind to the writing on the wall.

In contrast, the government dismissed the other two cases (one in the Midwest and one in the South) on the eve of trial. One case involved a gay man who had a brief sexual interlude with a teenage male relative; the other involved an immigrant who had gone on two dates with an underage teen girl he met on an online dating site (his misconduct never went beyond petting). Both had served substantial prison terms. But, again, garden-variety sex offenders, not the depraved, sex-crazed monsters likely envisioned by jurors when they are told they will be deciding a "sexually violent predator" case.

Bottom line: Should a random clinical psychologist, earning hundreds of thousands of dollars a year churning out boilerplate pseudoscientific garbage, be allowed to decide the fates of others?

At least in this one case, 12 discerning and conscientious jurors answered that question with a resounding "NO."


ON OTHER,TOTALLY UNRELATED NOTES: If you're looking for an intelligent movie in theaters now (always a challenging search), ARGO earns a qualified thumbs-up from me; my review is HERE. (If you find the review helpful, please click on "yes" at the bottom.) I've also just finished reading a thoroughly researched and well-written cultural biography of John Brown, Midnight Rising, that positions his raid on Harper's Ferry as a seminal moment in the lead-up to the Civil War. Tony Horwitz previously wrote Conservatives in the Attic, which -- as the descendant of Southerners -- I found spot-on.

Happy Halloween!

For the past four years on this date, I have posted a column on Halloween and the sex offender bogeyman. I'm going to skip it this year, but you can check out my previous offerings by clicking on these links:

• 2007: Beware the Halloween bogeyman!
• 2008: Pendulum swing on Halloween hype? (an erroneous prediction)
• 2009: Halloween "security theater" endures
• 2010: Yet another year of (yawn) Halloween security theater

View from my walking path of San Francisco Bay and Golden Gate Bridge

By the way, there is an actual crime spike on Halloween; it's just not of a sexual variety. You may also be interested in an article at The Psychologist on "The Lure of Horror."

Collating these Halloween posts reminds me that I’ve been blogging for almost five years now. It's hard for me to believe this will be my 735th post! My increasingly large and diverse international subscriber base makes quitting unthinkable. But occasionally blogging must take a back seat to other things, including my forensic work, academic writing, non-professional activities, and even simply enjoying our glorious October weather (so much nicer than the record-breaking snow storm that just struck the East Coast!).

I did manage to find time to view and review three indie films, a diversion from the increasingly mindless Hollywood fare that is so hard to stomach. You can click on any of these links to read the full review. In order from most to least recommended, they are:

• Salt of This Sea (a Palestinian film I highly recommend)
• Incendies (a critically acclaimed film about the Lebanese conflict, which is worth seeing if you are into horror)
• Ballast (a film set in the Mississippi Delta that doesn’t live up to the hype)

When I don't get around to blogging, I often still find time to tweet forensic news, a much shorter and simpler task. Click on any of the below links to go to some of the interesting news articles I've tweeted about in the past couple of weeks (you can view my tweets in real-time at any time, on the upper-right side of my blog site):

• Juvenile curfews as prejudice: Great editorial on why we need more kids on the streets, not fewer (San Francisco Chronicle)
• Teenage brains: Nice feature in this month's National Geographic
• Obesity playing increasingly common role in child custody battles, as ex-spouses hurl accusations in court about their kids' nutrition and exercise (Wall Street Journal)
• Boy Scouts' "perversion files" of 5,000+ pedophiles; like Catholic Church, Scouts kept abuse secret (USA Today)
• Man who borrowed a cell phone to tell his family he was paroling gets extra 5 years in prison (Los Angeles Times)
• Gizmodo series: Life and technology in San Quentin (Be grateful for the things you take for granted!)
• The Invisible Man: How the sex offender registry results in social death (online article)
• Turning conventional wisdom on its head: A successful executive's struggles with severe mental disorder (New York Times)
• Food rationing in Texas prisons; weekend lunches eliminated (Grits for Breakfast blog)
• Book review: "A Plague of Prisons" – why U.S. incarceration boom is social catastrophe on scale of worst global epidemics
• Sybil Exposed: The extraordinary story behind the famous multiple personality case (New York Times book review)
• Topeka Kansas repeals local domestic violence law due to budget cuts; agencies won't accept new cases
• California governor approves bill speeding involuntary medication of incompetent defendants held in state hospitals (Los Angeles Times)

In closing, whatever you are up to today, I wish you a very happy Halloween. No tricks, just treats.

Crime after crime: Battered woman’s struggle for justice

Debbie Peagler was 15 when she met and fell in love with a charming young man named Oliver Wilson. Unfortunately for her, Wilson was a pimp and drug dealer who ferociously abused her over the next six years. He beat her with a bullwhip, prostituted her, forced her to perform oral sex in front of his friends, put hot ashes on her hands and made her eat his feces, according to witnesses. When she said she would leave, he threatened to kill her.

On May 27, 1982, she asked him to drive her to a park. Waiting in ambush were two friends of her mother, neighborhood gang members who killed him. The prosecution maintained that Peagler hired the men. Peagler claimed she never discussed killing Wilson.

Threatened with the death penalty, Peagler pled guilty to first-degree murder and went to prison. And there she would have remained for the rest of her life, if not for a little serendipity.

After California enacted a law in 2000 to ensure fair trials for battered women who killed their abusers, the California Habeas Project selected Peagler as someone who might be eligible for relief. A local law firm, Bingham McCutchen, agreed to take the case pro bono. Two rookie land-use attorneys, Joshua Safran and Nadia Costa, began collecting new evidence to substantiate Peagler’s abuse.

Peagler’s story had deep personal meaning for Safran. As a 9-year-old boy, he helplessly cried through the night as an abusive boyfriend pummeled his mother. Eventually, he and his mother escaped, and he learned to channel his simmering rage into legal advocacy.

Over the course of several years, the attorneys found long-lost witnesses, learned of allegedly perjured evidence, and got new statements from the men who had killed Wilson.

For her part, Peagley was a model prisoner. She had spent her decades behind bars tutoring illiterate women, leading a gospel choir, earning two college degrees, and participating in a battered women’s support group.

Eventually, the Los Angeles County district attorney’s office agreed that Peagley should have been convicted of voluntary manslaughter, which at the time carried a sentence of only two to six years. Prosecutors signed a statement agreeing to Peagley’s immediate release from prison.

But that happy ending was not to be. After a political backlash in his office, the district attorney reneged on the deal, and Peagley’s petition for release was denied. Meanwhile, the case took on a new urgency when Peagley was diagnosed with advanced lung cancer.

Costa and Safran continued to petition for Peagley’s release on numerous grounds: Her guilty plea was coerced, false evidence was introduced against her, and the original prosecution would have differed had there been expert testimony on battering.

Although the courts failed her, she was finally paroled from prison in August 2009, thanks in part to an international grassroots campaign. She currently lives in Carson, CA.

Sadly, Bay Area private investigator Bobby Buechler, who gathered exculpatory evidence and was involved in the crusade to free Peagley (and whom I happened to know), died unexpectedly shortly before her release.

Filmmaker Yoav Potash spent five years filming the story as it unfolded, both in and out of prison. CRIME AFTER CRIME is the award-winning documentary of this dramatic saga. The film is currently playing around the United States; check HERE for more information and to find a venue near you.

 
Hat tip: Martin

The Social Network debunks Facebook origin myth

With the box-office success of The Social Network, the whole world will know that Facebook emerged not from an attempt by a college kid to connect with his friends, as the origin myth has it, but from a misogynist online prank.

The title speaks to the profound irony underlying this almost accidental invention: The man who invented the world's largest and most successful social network is devoid of social intelligence.

The central plot device is flash-forwards to founder Mark Zuckerberg's testimony at a legal deposition. Despite the obvious distortion of how a deposition works, the device works to remind us of the movie's essential accuracy. And, indeed, it had better be accurate. As unflattering a portrayal as it gives, and as wealthy as Zuckerberg is, the filmmakers certainly ran a risk of being sued for slander if they made a misstep. This legal risk alone makes the producers heroic.

Movie review continues HERE.

Winter's Bone: Crank's ravages revealed

Doing any doing forensic work in rural communities these days? I just got back from a trip to some distal towns of Northern California, where gaunt, straggly haired, gap-toothed phantoms glide through the Walmart aisles and trailer parks. As crack cocaine is to inner cities and alcohol is to Indian reservations, so methamphetamine is devastating rural white communities across the United States.

Winter's Bone, set in the remote Ozark Mountains, hauntingly depicts this plague. The story focuses on 17-year-old Ree Dolly, whose father has disappeared after putting up the family home as bail collateral. Unless she can find him, Ree and her younger brother and sister will be without a roof over their heads.

Ree's father is a "cooker" and her mother has been driven into a catatonic state. Ree is on her own in the hostile, clannish, and male-dominated community where she stumbles from trailer to trailer in her frantic search. Crank's ravages are everywhere, in the gaunt and grim faces, the harsh and sudden violence, the cruelty and hopelessness. Her father's only brother, Teardrop (flawlessly played by John Hawkes), holds a spoonful of the white powder out to her and asks, "Gotten the taste for it yet?" "Not yet," she recoils.

Aside from the down-home soundtrack, Winter's Bone is not easy to watch. Its gritty realism never lets up. The characters look like they climbed from Dorothea Lange’s Depression and Dust Bowl images, only with a touch of meth-induced paranoia added to the hunger and despair. The dialogue is sparse, and not once in 100 minutes do we hear laughter or feel much hope for Ree's future. What makes it all bearable is the strength and determination of Ree, movingly played by 19-year-old Jennifer Lawrence.

Winter's Bone is winning awards and earning rave reviews. The acclaim is well deserved. To achieve authenticity, director and co-writer Debra Granik and her team spent two years immersing themselves in the local community. Ree's younger sister is even played by a child who lives in the main house in which the movie is set. The film's power makes me want to see Granik's 2005 debut film, "Down to the Bone," another award winner focused on drug addiction and featuring a strong female lead.

Highly recommended.

NOTE: If you enjoyed this review, I encourage you to visit my Amazon review (HERE) and click on the "YES" button to leave me positive feedback that boosts my reviewer ranking.
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Sin Nombre: Of gangs and immigrants

This masterpiece of potential interest to forensic folks has it all -- great acting, beautiful cinematography, powerful themes, and amazing realism. The realism is no accident. Young filmmaker Cary Fukunaga spent months in Mexico, interviewing both immigrants and gang members about their experiences. He shot on location, and many cast members are nonprofessionals. For example, Edgar Flores, in the lead role as a member of the Chiapas chapter of the brutal Mara Salvatrucha (MS-13) gang, is straight off the streets of Tegucigalpa, Honduras.

Despite the specific setting of the tumultuous U.S.-Mexico border, Sin Nombre addresses powerful and universal themes of damnation and redemption. At least, that's how I saw it. In an interview, Fukunaga himself said he sees it as being about family -- "the disintegration and recreation of the family unit in its unique and varying forms."

The plot centers around a chance and fateful encounter between Willy and a 15-year-old Honduran girl, Sayra (Paulina Gaitan), who is riding north atop a train. Through Sayra's journey, viewers get an appreciation for the intense dangers faced by Central Americans trekking toward the promised land.

Without giving away anything, I can give you a bit of background. Fukunaga, raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, was in film school in New York when he saw a New York Times story about a group of Mexican and Central American immigrants who died of asphyxiation and heat exhaustion while trapped and abandoned inside a refrigerated trailer. (Remember that incident? It was front-page news a few years ago.) His short 2004 documentary about that case, Victoria Para Chino, won multiple film awards.

That project evolved into Sin Nombre, as Fukunaga explained in an IndieWire interview. Doing the research, he said, "I learned about the awful journey Central American immigrants went through in order to get to the United States -- crossing the infinitely more dangerous badlands of Mexico on top of (not in) freight trains bound for the US Border. It was like a world that belonged to the old Wild West."

Against the advice of friends, Fukunaga gained intimacy with his topic by taking the same harrowing train-top ride that he would film. (Folks cling to the top of the train rather than riding inside the box cars, because the cars are even more dangerous due to rapists and other criminals.) On his first ride, with 700 Central American immigrants, the train was attacked within three hours:

"We were somewhere in the pitch black regions of the Chiapan countryside. In the alcove of the next train car I heard the distinct pops of gunshots, always louder than they seem in the movies, then the screams of immigrants passing the word: 'Pandillas! Pandillas!' (gangsters). Everyone scattered, I could hear them running past our tanker car. Not having anywhere to run to, I stayed on…. The next day I talked to two Hondurans who were next to the attack. They told me a Guatemalan immigrant didn't want to give two bandits his money so they shot him and threw him under the train. [Later] I learned the police had found the body of a Guatemalan immigrant, shot and abandoned…. Nothing could have driven home the sensation of fear and impotence more than what I had felt firsthand with those immigrants."

Fukunaga's willingness and ability to see through the eyes of others probably owes much to his upbringing. (As Supreme Court nominee Sonia Sotomayor put it in her controversial speech, this DOES influence one's perspective!) Fukunaga is described in a Los Angeles Times article as "a wandering spirit with a Japanese father, a Swedish mother, a Chicano stepdad and an Argentine stepmom [who] can't be reduced to the sum of his parts, ethnic or otherwise. Growing up, he shuffled from the suburbs to the country to the barrio ('Crips and Bloods, people getting shot') to the East Bay's hillside bourgeois enclaves. His family, he says, always has been a 'conglomeration of individual, sort of displaced people,' recombinations of relatives and step-relatives, blood kin and surrogate kin, parents and what he calls "pseudo-parents" who treated him like a son."

With this background, Fukunaga was able to capture not only the immigrant experience, but the pathos of gang life in Central America and Mexico, with brutality and hopelessness transmitted from generation to generation. Sin Nombre doesn't give the history or context for the Mara Salvatrucha (MS-13), which at 100,000-strong is widely considered one of the most fastest-growing and dangerous gangs in the world.

In brief, the MS-13 is an outgrowth of the 1980s war in El Salvador, which led to a massive migration of up to two million refugees into the United States. Many settled in the Ramparts area of Los Angeles, where the gang was founded. Strict U.S. immigration policies in more recent years have paradoxically worsened the gang problem, allowing the MS-13 to gain footholds in Central America and Mexico. The MS-13 is known for its vivid tattoos, but some say members are moving away from tattoos because they so brilliantly illuminate gang membership for authorities. A documentary on the MS-13, Hijos de la Guerra (Children of the War), can be previewed HERE. A marvelous Los Angeles Times photojournalism project on the gang is HERE.

Sin Nombre is getting widespread acclaim, and richly deserves the directing and cinematography awards it garnered at the 2009 Sundance Film Festival. It's in Spanish with English subtitles, but don't let that stop you.

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Profiling the Drug Wars

Wouldn't it be a drag to get arrested for something you did not do based solely on the word of a lying, mentally ill drug addict?

That's what happened to Regina Kelly in rural Hearne, Texas in 2000. Ensnared in a mass arrest of suspected drug dealers at her housing project, the young single mother was charged with selling drugs in a school zone. Despite her insistence that she was innocent, her court-appointed attorney pressured her to accept a plea bargain to avoid many years in prison and the loss of her children. With no criminal record and no drugs found on or near her, she refused.

Instead, with the help of the American Civil Liberties Union she filed a class action suit, Regina Kelly v. John Paschall. Since the case settled four years ago, the local drug task force has been disbanded.

As it turns out, bogus statements by "snitches" trying to curry favor with police are a leading cause of wrongful convictions (along with faulty eyewitness evidence and wrongful confessions). In the U.S. Drug Wars, this especially affects those who, like Kelly, are poor and Black. Texas seems like an unlikely leader in the campaign to reform such practices. But, prompted by the Hearne case and another mass drug arrest the year before in Tulia, the Lone Star State became the first in the United States to enact legislation requiring that the statements of confidential informants be corroborated by other evidence.

The case was reported by PBS' cutting-edge Frontline back in June 2004; a similar documentary was made about the more infamous bust in Tulia, Texas. But now, a fictionalized version of Kelly's story is set to reach a broader, mainstream audience. Co-director Bill Haney says that when he heard about Kelly's case on National Public Radio as he was driving along, it so moved him that he pulled his car over to the side of the road and cried.

In American Violet, "Dee Roberts" (Nicole Beharie) is the plaintiff in a class-action case over racial discrimination in drug enforcement. Tim Blake Nelson plays David Cohen, the ACLU lawyer who sues racist district attorney Calvin Beckett (Michael O’Keefe) on her behalf.

Kelly says the film is "90 percent accurate." The depositions, the courtroom scene in which she fights to retain custody of her children, and many other scenes are word-for-word accounts.

"I'm hoping that somehow, this film is going to get the message out there for someone to look in on this town and other towns that go through the same thing that we go through," Kelly told the Chicago Tribune. "Because something has to happen, and this has to stop."

With this film, Kelly may get her wish. Like Clint Eastwood's magnificent The Changeling (see my review HERE), this tale of a defiant woman's struggle against corrupt law enforcement strikes a universal chord. But unlike The Changeling, American Violet also addresses present-day criminal justice themes of racial profiling and coerced plea bargaining.

Get out and catch it.

The L.A. Times has an informative review HERE. Grits for Breakfast has compiled a list of links to other media reviews. For more information on the true case, see Kelly's website. Or, you can watch Kelly on YouTube. My prior posts on confidential informants are HERE.

Movie recommendation: The Changeling

The Changeling is a powerful film. It tells the long-forgotten story of a working-class woman who brought down the corrupt establishment of Los Angeles 80 years ago.

Angelina Jolie gives a strong, Oscar-worthy performance as Christine Collins, a single mother and one of the first female supervisors at the phone company who refuses to bow down to corrupt police when her son vanished without a trace in 1928.

Los Angeles on the brink of the Great Depression was an epitome of corruption. The police chief, James "Two Guns" Davis, had an officially sanctioned "gun squad" that terrorized opponents with impunity. When Collins' son Walter vanished, the L.A. police were embarrassed by their inability to find him. To squelch public criticism, they tried to convince Collins that a young drifter was her son. When Collins protested, police Captain J.J. Jones labeled her as histrionic and delusional and had her locked in a "psychopathic ward."

Luckily for Collins, her plight came to the attention of Gustav A. Briegleb, a Presbyterian minister and community organizer who regularly lambasted police corruption on his radio show. It was through Briegleb's help that Collins was able to get a lawyer and tell her story. Indeed, although it is not mentioned in the movie, Collins' case led to passage of a law that prohibited police from incarcerating people in psychiatric facilities absent due process.

My review continues here (click to the Amazon page and then scroll down to the customer reviews; please click on "yes" if you find the review helpful).

Notorious pedophile dies in prison

Kenneth Parnell, one of California's most infamous child molesters, died Monday night of natural causes, bringing to a close a strange and warped story in the annals of pedophilia.

I recall Parnell's trial vividly, as it was top news back in 1981, when I was a journalism student. I even wrote a term paper analyzing coverage of the case. Parnell was convicted of abducting 7-year-old Steven Stayner and keeping the boy confined for more than 7 years, until his escape in 1980.

Stayner became something of a hero for freeing Parnell’s next would-be victim, 5-year-old Timmy White. But Stayner went on to tragedy, dying in a motorcycle accident in 1989.

Stranger yet, Stayner's brother Cary Stayner went on to become a serial killer of women in Yosemite National Park; he's currently on San Quentin's Death Row.

(A little stream of consciousness here - I was just over at San Quentin this morning, and happened to observe filming of an upcoming Clint Eastwood movie, "The Changeling," about the bizarre events surrounding a man sentenced to hang for the murder-rape-kidnaps of little boys back in the 1920s. Very cool vintage taxi they had driving up and down by the main prison gate; I believe star Angelina Jolie will be riding in it in the movie, although neither she nor Eastwood were in evidence at the prison today.)

Anyway, back to the Parnell case. After serving his time, Parnell was paroled to Berkeley. A sickly and doddering 71-year-old, in 2004 he tried to buy a 4-year-old child from his caretaker for yet another round of child molestation. So much for the hope that old age and infirmity automatically preclude sexual reoffending.

"Kenneth Parnell's death brings to a close his long criminal history of victimizing young children," said Alameda County deputy district attorney Tim Wellman, who prosecuted Parnell in the 2004 case.

He died at the California Medical Facility at Vacaville after a long illness.

The Crime Library has a detailed case history; Wikipedia also has a biography.