Nightcrawler, or Who is to blame here?

After viewing the film “Nightcrawler”, I can point out several instances where media ethics are compromised in favor of “if it bleeds, it leads”.  In the beginning of the film, we’re introduced to the main protagonist, Lou Bloom, played by Jake Gyllenhaal, a character detached from social norms and unemployed petty thief.  What’s so intriguing about this character is his vernacular; how he speaks to people and body language throughout the film is an eerily reminder of Gyllenhaal’s earlier work in “Donnie Darko”.  Lou stops at an accident on the highway and witnesses the CHP save a woman’s life, but that’s not what excites him, it’s the independent news media videotaping the entire scene that awakens a fire inside.  Lou doesn’t like people, and he eventually admits this later in the film, and since he doesn’t like people, filming the aftermath of gruesome crimes or accidents just might be the career he so desperately needs.  Since he is able to detach himself, he can get those intimate shots.

After making a quick few hundred dollars, and a few instances of failed crimes scenes, Lou finds something news worthy to film, a shooting.  Coming a little too close for the likes of the rescue crew, the police shut down the scene.  There’s problem number one, Lou’s complete disregard for the haste and space the rescue crew needs puts the patients life in jeopardy.  There was another cameraman filming the same scene, but a little further back.  This cameraman probably knew through experience that if he went any closer, the police would shut the location down and he would lose his chance to get more footage.  But Lou, unaware of the norms, literally shoves the camera right in between the rescue workers, roughly two to three feet away from the patient.  It’s a little tasteless and a reminder that people like this exist out there.  The other cameraman criticizes Lou for going in close and causing the police to shut down the scene. 

Now that Lou finally has something worth selling and overhears a quick negotiation from the other cameraman, he heads to a low rated local news station to sell his work.  Considering Lou got so close to the scene, the news director Nina, played by Rene Russo, immediately wants to buy the footage, but is met with some restraint from a coworker who proclaims, “Do people want to see this during breakfast?”, which is a reference to the Breakfast Test we’ve discussed at one point in our lectures.   They eventually buy the footage from Lou and now he’s hooked.  He is detached from society and found a chance to have a career that accepts him for who he his, while being his own boss.

The next instance of compromise is when Lou enters a home that’s been taped off by police.  Knowing the he wasn’t going to get any good footage from behind the tape, and watching another camera-crew pack up, Lou goes under the tape (strike one), enters the home (strike two), modifies picture placement on a refrigerator (strike three), films some junk mail for a name (strike four), and films the homeowner being questioned by police from inside the home, through the bullet ridden kitchen window (strike five).  While he managed to get some great footage that no other camera-crew was able to get,  this example of Lou’s complete disregard for the law and social constructs are just a tip of the iceberg of what he’ll do to get the shot.  At one point during this scene, he questions a neighbor about what happened, she supplies him with a curse laden response, and he asks her to respond again, only this time please don’t use foul language.  While the interaction is hilarious, it’s the perfect representation of how local communities feel in times of sorrow.  A neighbor was possibly shot, the last they care about is talking to the media.  Think about the Newtown, Connecticut shooting, an entire community under the spotlight of the media, but only a handful of interviews.  People thrive off terror and fear, but not when it’s in their backyard.  When it hits close to home, people want their space and privacy.  Is the news media to blame for this, or is it our violent nature that fuels the news feed?  I don’t know.  Anyone can go onto the internet and view the most violent deaths one could possibly imagine, but the internet is an uncensored playground, what about television?  The Budd Dwyer suicide has been rebroadcast numerous times and is often used in documentaries, uncensored.  But the suicide of journalist Christine Chubbuck has only been viewed once, when it occurred on live broadcast, which was quickly cut away and the family later brought an injunction against the station so the footage could never air again.  

To question who is responsibly in the film is difficult.  The character Lou invades privacy, modifies crime scenes, withholds evidence from law enforcement, gets his partner and competitors killed or injured, and manipulates people throughout the film to get what he wants.  Overall his character is unlikable in the sense of, “I’m just doing my job”.  But his character points out an interesting topic to be made.  Rene Russo’s character Nina works for the low rated news station that repeatedly buys Lou’s footage.  He knows they’re failing and her job is in jeopardy, and he uses this to his advantage.  The “Quid Pro Quo” deal he makes with Nina is sleazy and even though she has her grievances about it, she accepts because he’s right.  If her media outlet doesn’t buy his footage, someone else will.  See, it’s not just Lou who is the issue here, it’s also the outlets and the public.  This particular local news station has to compete with various other stations for stories and footage.  Since Lou is willing to break boundaries (and laws) to get footage, Nina is willing to compensate him accordingly, thus in turn boosting the ratings of the station and securing her career.  

Do I personally think that situations like these actually happen?  Yes and No.  There was an older film that touched a similar storyline about ten years ago, called “Paparazzi”.  

This fictional work focused more on the privacy of celebrities and what a man will do to protect his family.  But there is one scene in the film that goes along with the narrative of Nightcrawler, the paparazzi cause a horrible car accident and even though one of the members of the group notify the authorities, they’re still firing off their cameras to get the exclusive.  Tom Sizemore is seen defending his career as a “photojournalist” after a woman criticizes him that his “pictures hurt people”, stating, “My job is to provide a window of reality for society, it’s up to them whether they want to look through it or not... I mean, everyone wants to have a little peek... It’s human nature.” He’s one hundred percent correct., people are generally curious creatures.  The scrutiny that the media faces whenever they broadcast something tasteless is an endless discussion of “Who is to blame here, the media (who are just doing their jobs) or the people” that’ll never be answered until society can answer the question:  What do we care about more, bloodlust or happy endings? Until people can change their views on what’s important to them, the media will never change.  It’ll be the same story every night, violence and fear.  So yes, I do think the film Nightcrawler is an accurate reflection of the news media, but I also think it uses artistic license, because I’ve never heard a story about a journalist tinkering with evidence and basically creating a crime so they can get the scene from two angles (the last instance in the film). But more-so, I think it’s an accurate reflection of societies desire to see stories that are raw and real.

"Homicide: Life on the Street" An Essay

Episode: "The Subway"

The subway.  Mass transit.  Millions of people use this mode of transportation each day.  It’s quite simple really.  You pay your fare, maneuver yourself through a maze of tunnels, people, and panhandlers, wait for your train, and let someone else do the driving for you.  It’s a simple mindless act, for a simple, mindless morning commute.  I used to work in NYC, and let me tell you, mass transit is the way to go.  It’s cheaper and less stressful, plus it affords you the opportunity of my favorite pastime: people watching.  You’ll see all sorts of characters on the subway.  Sometimes, you’ll see incredibly heinous acts...

When this episode of “Homicide: LOTS” opens up, it seems like a traditional story.  We see the average Baltimore morning, attention focused on the Inner Harbor and a couple saying goodbye for the day.  John Lange is a guy that we all know.  He’s brash and important, at least, he likes to think he is, his peers probably think he’s an asshole.  When you take the subway, you become accustom to the routine of waiting your turn, it’s an unspoken social rule.  Unless your John Lange.  You push your way through people and don’t look back.  After all, you don’t normally take mass transit, you drive, except on Friday’s, on Friday’s, you take mass transit because you “work the phones, talking wholesalers”.  Pretty average Friday, except for that time someone pushed you into an oncoming train, remember that?  Of course you do, because you’re still alive, for the next forty-five minutes or so.

Since I’ve never seen an episode of “Homicide: LOTS” prior to “The Subway”, I’m going to
assume that they follow the same formula that most prime-time dramas follow (and sitcoms for that matter): It’s a police drama and the title is “Homicide”, it’s a pretty safe bet that someone is going to die within the first five minutes (that is, if they aren’t already dead, also, this probably doesn’t happen in sitcoms, although, if it did, I’d certainly watch them).  The rest of the episode will then focus on detectives interviewing potential suspects, motives, conflict, and finally, resolution.  Unless it’s a multiple episode story arch, then add some more intense drama and call it a day.  

So generally speaking, if there’s a victim that requires a homicide detective, chances are, that one hundred percent of the time, that victim is dead.  John Lange didn’t die, so why call homicide?  This is what makes this story arch so incredible.  What if the deceased victim of a crime you’re investigating had a voice?  Would they be mad?  Sad?  Apologetic?  Remorseful?  Put yourself in the shoes of these officers.  Yes, they’re trained to deal with intense, deadly situations, but they’ve probably gotten used to the redundancies of police work.  This is obvious in the banter between the two other detectives searching for Sarah, Johns girlfriend, so the couple can have that one last goodbye.  Detective Pembleton and his partner, Detective Bayliss, are left to interview the victim and the suspect, with Pembleton going to the former.  He’s essentially speaking to a dead man.  How do you break the news to someone that they’re going to die?  Considering this is Baltimore, and you’re a homicide detective, you’ve experienced death, you’ve seen it, up close, daily.  You probably have a stack of unsolved cases in your office, but this time, you’ve got the chance to speak with a victim directly, this is unheard of in homicide work.  

Vincent D’Onofrio (John Lange) and Andre Braugher (Detective Pembleton) smack this out of the ball park.  D’Onofrio portrays his character like someone who doesn’t quite understand the gravity of the situation.  He’s incredibly hostile, and at one point compares himself to that of a death row inmate, he doesn’t even get a last meal.  He displays that he wasn’t an easy person to get along with, so this is his execution.  While at the same time, expresses shock when the firemen go through “a feat of engineering, for me”.  Again, he knows he’s a bit of a jerk, but surprised at whats being done at attempts to save him.  He continues taking out his frustrations on Pembleton the entire time, along with the EMS medic, all the while, he had no one to blame but himself, and the guy who pushed him, but seriously, situational awareness buddy, you’re asking for trouble when you’re too close to the tracks like that.  He’s going through the grieving process.  Pembleton doesn’t know what to do.  At a few points, he stands up and backs away, surprised by Lange’s hostility. 

He’s confronted with the fear of his own mortality. 

Eventually, Lange dies.  The climax leading up to his death is intense.  Every official on the scene is scrambling to prepare for this, Pembleton and Lange lock eyes and Lange says something about sugar maple trees and how they turn their leaves over when a storm is approaching to suck in the rain.  When you’re about to die, your mind goes haywire.  I like to think that this is a place your consciousness goes as a way to cope with impending doom.  You’ll hear stories from the battlefield about soldiers who were mortally wounded making jokes before dying.  It’s a coping mechanism.  No one wants to die, but it’s a sad fact that we all do.  If you had forty-five minutes to live, how would you act?  Angry?  Sad?  Apologetic?  Remorseful?

In the closing scene, Pembleton regurgitates the sugar maple fact to his partner as they’re
leaving the scene.  He says, “You learn something new everyday”.  I think he learned a lot more that day.  Then again, it’s just another day in the city.