Making A Murderer

Normally my bedtime dreams follow the same predictable pattern. I’m at the front of a class and I can’t control my students; they’re shouting, they’re fighting, they’re re-enacting scenes from Lord of The Flies without my permission. Like Piggy and the conch, I bring a whistle to my mouth; the call goes unheard, the rebellion continues. Standing at the front I feel helpless and forlorn, thinking how Michelle Pfeiffer’s inspirational portrayal was just state-sponsored propaganda for teacher recruitment.

This week my dreams have been different. I’ve been playing a case over in my head, over and over again. The case features a man that has been wronged once and may have been wronged again. The man is Steven Avery, an American man from Manitowoc County, Wisconsin; a working class community that believe in its institutions, religious and secular. Steven’s family do not fit the small town stereotype: they are not church attendees, nor are they flavour of the month with the local Sheriff’s department - a young Steven’s charge sheet reads ‘burglary’ twice over. The family do have a deep-seated notion of honesty though, leading Steven to plead guilty for every crime, taking the rap each time without trying to wriggle free.

In 1985 Steven’s small catalogue of crimes would come back to bite him when he is tried with the sexual assault of Penny Beernsten, a popular woman from a respected family. The assault she was subjected to was harrowing in the extreme; the fact law enforcement officers went straight after Avery, despite him having no history of analogous violence against women was curious. (Note: he did once force a cousin off the road, threatening violence, after she claimed he engaged in sexual practice outside his house: a claim he denied as ‘lies.’) Whatever Steven’s past though there was a clear sense that the police had targeted him because they didn’t like the Avery family, seeing this as an opportunity to score one for Conservative America.

Behind Bars: Part One

Avery spent 18 years in jail for a crime he did not commit. Following fresh DNA evidence, he was exonerated and free to live his life. With the Manitowoc County Police Department refusing to take responsibility for his incarceration, Steven led a litigation charge against the officers he believed had behaved unprofessionally towards him. Ordered to attend depositions, the police were now on trial, with Avery this time playing prosecutor. Poacher then had turned gamekeeper; Manitowoc County had been humbled - they did not like it.

With events ongoing in Steven’s million-dollar litigation claim against the County, a missing woman’s car was found near Steven Avery’s trailer. Subsequently, it materialised that she had come to Avery’s property to photo his sister’s minivan for a Sales ad. Following a search of the Avery family’s 40 acre site, the charred remains of her body were found. Everything points to Avery being the killer. But why would a man who'd just won his freedom and sought to gain millions from it turn to killing now? Something doesn't sit right, something doesn't feel right. 

Behind Bars: Part Two

What follows in the 10 part Making A Murderer series is a document of the years that follow. A case that seems stranger than fiction – a wrongly imprisoned man stands trial for another crime that this time he actually committed- is the centre-point for a gripping examination of America’s legal system. For me, the case reminded me of To Kill A Mockingbird with a seemingly innocent man made to stand trial for the prejudices of the town. In Avery’s corner is Dean Strang, an Atticus Finch character, whose voice regularly breaks with emotion at the failings of the justice system. In the other corner is Ken Kratz, the Special Prosecutor, a slick political animal who probably alliterated his name for branding purposes. Caught in-between these brains is the shackled body of Steven Avery.

Over the course of the case evidence comes to light that makes you think Avery did it. Likewise, there is substantial evidence that the police did not handle the case without prejudice. Did his years behind bars make Avery into a murderer? Or did his humbling of the county make them make a murderer out of Avery? What is unquestionable is the unfairness of the legal system.

Dickens was writing about this inequity two hundred years ago. In Great Expectations Pip’s mysterious benefactor, Magwitch recounts his past, explaining to Pip how a man called Compeyson led him into criminality. The two were arrested and stood trial. Magwitch describes how without education the poor don't stand a chance.

Compeyson as had been to the school, and warn't it his schoolfellows as was in this position and in that, and warn't it him as had been know'd by witnesses in such clubs and societies, and nowt to his disadvantage? And warn't it me as had been tried afore, and as had been know'd up hill and down dale in Bridewells and Lock-Ups? And when it come to speech-making, warn't it Compeyson as could speak to 'em wi' his face dropping every now and then into his white pocket-handkercher - ah! and wi' verses in his speech, too - and warn't it me as could only say, 'Gentlemen, this man at my side is a most precious rascal'? And when the verdict come, warn't it Compeyson as was recommended to mercy on account of good character and bad company, and giving up all the information he could agen me, and warn't it me as got never a word but Guilty?

Does our legal system protect the weakest members of society?

The Avery family are Magwitch: they are outside the establishment, ignorant of the language it speaks. Compeyson is the system: a language you have to be educated to understand. In this labyrinthine legal system, you get the feeling that the winners have been pre-determined, that the game may have well been rigged. You will watch the show and be incensed at every turn. But you will carry on watching. Watching in horror as an institute crushes its people.

This is the 50th blog post I've written. Thank you to everyone who has read one.

Making A Murderer is on Netflix now.