Nature of the Crime (now streaming on Max) tackles the kind of topic that HBO documentaries rarely shy away from: a divisive one. Directors Ricki Stern and Jesse Sweet (Netflix’s Surviving Death) probe the parole system, specifically honing in on two New York men who committed reprehensible crimes, and their attempts to regain their freedom after decades in prison. In fully contextualizing these cases, the film stirs up ideas about punishment and rehabilitation, and ponders whether parole systems – which are different in every U.S. state – might need some rehabbing too.
The Gist: “I’m not the same 19-year-old,” Todd Scott insists. He’s 54 now, and has spent more than 30 years in prison for his involvement in the murder of 22-year-old NYPD Officer Edward Byrne in 1988. Scott belonged to a gang lorded over by a drug dealer. Byrne, assigned to guard a witness in a criminal case against said dealer, was sitting in his patrol car when Scott distracted Byrne, setting up the cop to be killed by Scott’s co-conspirators. He got 25-to-life. He meets with his attorney, Rhiya Trivedi, who’s taking the case pro bono, helping Scott prepare for parole hearings. Together, they hope to convince the parole board that Scott is remorseful and rehabilitated, which isn’t an easy task. Not at all. It was an infamous crime spurring public outrage. Families were destroyed. Scott’s actions resulted in the assassination of a rookie cop whose badge ended up in the possession of President George H.W. Bush as an emblem of war-on-drugs and tough-on-crime narratives.
“Do I forgive my 14-year-old self? No,” says Chad Campbell. He was that age in 1990 when he killed his classmate, 15-year-old Cindy Lewis, and the 17-month-old boy she was babysitting, Curtis Rizzo. He stabbed them multiple times and Campbell isn’t sure why. He was young and in a fit of rage. He got 18-to-life, a sentence that would’ve been much harsher had he been an adult. Now, every two years or so since 2008, he sits in front of a parole board and tries to convince them that that 14-year-old kid doesn’t exist anymore, and has been replaced with a new man. Lawyer Rochelle Swartz assists him, insisting, “He’s grown and changed in an environment that doesn’t foster growth and change.” But can he, or anyone, ever account for the fact that he murdered a toddler?
Nature of the Crime spends significant time with these men and their attorneys, propping them up as an exemplification of Sweet and Stern’s core argument: The parole system in New York state functions unforgivingly. Scott and Campbell are met with what seems to be the default parole-board response: The nature of the crime is too heinous, and they show insufficient remorse to justify their release. The film works to contextualize these two cases, exploring how Scott and Campbell have identified the issues that put them in the situation to commit crimes – childhood trauma stemming from abuse, abandonment, homelessness and other factors – and are working to make themselves better people through therapy, education, vocational training and the like. Swartz chats with a psychologist who makes a positive case for Campbell’s mental health; talking heads illustrate flaws in the state parole system; a man in Connecticut is subject to a parole hearing in a state that seems to be more forgiving and thorough in its analysis of prisoners. This is all highly subjective stuff – and sometimes coming up with definitive answers about what’s right and wrong aren’t just difficult, but seemingly impossible.
What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: Werner Herzog’s documentary and subsequent TV series Into the Abyss gave us a more existential examination of the prison system, specifically via interviews with prisoners on death row.
Performance Worth Watching: Gentle pass on this one. Doesn’t feel right in a documentary where there are no clear “winners” or “losers” — or the troublesome insinuation that anyone is “performing” here.
Memorable Dialogue: Kim Rogers, Campbell’s stepsister: “I was raised to believe that it’s an eye for an eye… and I don’t agree with it. Society just doesn’t accept that people change.”
Sex and Skin: None.
Our Take: Nature of the Crime is a thought-provoking slice of responsible journalism that prompts viewers to really wrestle with this issue – and by extension, their sense of absolutism. Does everyone deserve a second chance? Are some actions unforgivable? Is it too difficult to believe that people who do bad things are no longer bad people (or, even thornier, weren’t even bad people in the first place)? There’s an eye for an eye; there’s also hate the sin, love the sinner. Where do you stand?
In a gray area. That’s where. Notably, Sweet and Stern don’t interview families of Campbell and Scott’s victims, whether they’re concerned about undermining their core argument, or about simply staying focused on the stories of these two men – the latter results in a tighter documentary, although the argument that those stories aren’t complete without considering the point-of-view of survivors does carry some weight. There’s no sense that they’re trying to humanize monsters, instead suggesting that these men weren’t monsters to begin with. (Nor does the film infer that monsters don’t exist at all; it remains remarkably on task.)
The filmmakers operate on the underlying liberal notion that rehabilitation should be the ultimate goal of incarceration (and possibly a more partisan view that punishment precedes rehab). More than once, the film posits the question, do you want to be forever judged by your worst mistake? Follow that thread: Are you the same person you were when you were a teenager? How would you do things differently now that you have greater wisdom and experience? Have you explored all the dark and bright corners of yourself, and what did you learn from it? The “nature of the crime” is never going to change – but what about the perpetrator of the crime?
The majority of us will more easily contemplate these cogent and relevant questions than anyone who’s dealt with the loss of a loved one due to violent crime. I don’t believe Sweet and Stern are discounting that point of view, nor are they aiming to persuade survivors to forgive the unforgivable – that perspective could be a follow-up documentary, possibly a responsibility. The tone here is less confrontational, a softly matter-of-fact presentation of a well-heeled and thoroughly researched argument for leniency that implicates everything from politics to morals and age-old progressive-vs.-conservative ideals. It offers substantive food for thought at every turn.
Our Call: Nature of the Crime is a strong op-ed-style doc exploring one side of a murky, difficult-to-navigate gray area. STREAM IT.
John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.