Leopold and Loeb chapters 16-18

It is not difficult for me to understand how Leopold and Loeb were constantly confused for one another; the boys are represented in so many different manners I have a hard time trying to keep them separate. They really were a team; “One was Leopold and one was Loeb, but they became Leopold and Loeb. Though possessing different personalities, they became the sum of those personalities” (20). The Tribune was quick to point to Leopold as the evil genius and hypnotist and Loeb as gentle and sensitive Dickey, but then they just as quickly changed their story to “Loeb ‘Master of Leopold’ Under Solemn Pact Made: Sex Inferiority is Factor”. Experts debated which one of the boys actually killed Bobby Franks. Alienists portrayed Leopold as the more intelligent of the two boys, whereas “Loeb is pictured as little more than a crude criminal” (220). The many experts “spent twice as much time dissecting Leopold as Loeb. The result has been a distorted and oversimplified picture of Richard Loeb” (219).
The alienists said Leopold, even though the more cunning, saw his friend as “Superman” (210). He was infatuated with Loeb, and apparently initiated homosexual tendencies: “Loeb admitted them but claimed he” only “submitted in order to have Leopold’s aid in carrying out his criminal ideas” (215). The power dynamic again shifts; who was manipulating whom? Higdon believes “there was genius and criminality in both” (220).
The alienists speculated on how the relationship functioned, arguing it was very possible “this friendship between the two boys was not altogether a pleasant one to either of them…Their friendship was not based so much in desire as on need, they being what they were. Loeb did not crave the companionship of Leopold, nor did he respect him thoroughly. But he did feel the need of someone else in his life. Leopold did not like the faults, the criminalism of Loeb, but he did need someone in his life to carry out this king-slave compulsion” (225).

Chicago Tribune Packet (Leopold and Loeb)

In reading these articles on the murder investigation and subsequent trial of Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb, I noticed how different the journalism seemed compared to articles we’ve read from more recent issues of The New York Times. In every article there is a new expert being interviewed, a new theory being developed and more “clews” to be deciphered. The journalists sound more like crime novel authors than journalists. Is it at all newsworthy that the triangle part of the A is larger than normal? How does that in any way indicate that the murderers were intelligent? Many of these experts and sources are unnamed; one girl cries into her tea because she is so sad for Dickey Loeb’s troubles, and yet she is not identified in the slightest. I wonder if the journalists have any grounds for these claims, or if they are merely creating stories to sell issues. The public certainly seemed to stay interested if stories were continuing on the matter four months later, so maybe this extra drama was just playing to that.
Many of the articles discuss the mental states of the boys; their lack of Jewish faith, lack of community, heightened intelligence, parents, lack of discipline and regular consumption of moonshine are all mentioned as explanations for the violent crime these boys committed. There was also great debate to whether or not Leopold and Loeb were sane when they kidnapped Robert Franks. The defense and prosecution go back and forth presenting evidence to support their own claim, including reasons as bizarre as “autohypnosis”. In addition, while one article describes Loeb as the “King” and Leopold the “slave”, yet another says it was Leopold who manipulated the gentle Loeb. The different journalists have their own biases that shine through in their work.

Comments on Unit II Blogs

My blogs for Unit II are much more consistent than my blogs for Unit I. After being duped by journalistic tricks and biases in Unit I, I think I was more critical in my readings of Schanberg’s New York Times articles, and also in my comments on the film. This unit, I tried to go deeper than just noticing interesting aspects of the writings or the film and ask myself why they were interesting or what purpose they served. While extensive and sometimes confusing, the website about film analysis was extremely helpful in my understanding of the different possibilities certain visual or sound effects had on a single shot. For instance, in analyzing the use of shallow focus in the scene at the Coca-Cola factory, I tried to imagine how the scene would be different if the director used deep or raking focus instead. I also tried to trace several themes throughout all the mediums; this helped me when I was writing my screening report because I felt like I had concrete examples to draw on from my blogs. I hope the same will prove true for my essay.

Spalding Gray: Swimming to Cambodia and Rolling Stone article

I am amazed that Spalding Gray has the same voice in both the article and the monologue, though he says very different things. Reading the Rolling Stone article after Swimming to Cambodia, I can definitely recognize his personality and his mannerisms in the second work. I had grown so comfortable with his voice that it took me until after I finished to article to realize this seemed to be a very different Spalding Gray even though he sounded the same. In Swimming to Cambodia, Gray seemed completely lost. He rambles on humorously enough, and recounts Perfect Moments as well as exotic adventures, but he is not a man at peace with himself or his surroundings. Without warning, he is struck by moments of intense grieving and guilt for Cambodia: “How could I think of my pleasure when the world still suffered so? How? How? Oh, the shame of it! I needed to get back to give my old sweaters away to the Cambodian refugees in Far Rockaway” (124). His paranoid freak-outs result from stress, fear and anxiety about whether the life he has chosen for himself is in fact the right one: “Renée, it was a mission, a mission! I was on a mission. I’m not supposed to be back here” (108). When he talks about fame in the monologue it is only in comparing himself to John Malkovich and talking about the envy he feels for “the huge party” the film cast and crew held “when Craig T. left” (97). He calls Craig T. Nelson a “Professional Actor” and Malkovich “a good storyteller” (97). He discusses fame through his lack of it in the monologue, but in the article he relates his own anecdotes about dealing with his newfound fame. He talks about getting limos and private jets sent for him, going on The David Letterman Show and bowling for People magazine. He is witty and biting, but he is more confident. Gone are the stories of empty promises and fights with Renée. He has finally made a decision and seen it through. His experiences in Cambodia have now opened creative doors as well as financial ones, whereas before they isolated him: “But instead I ended up in Krummville with Renée and it was horrid. Horrid because I didn’t want to be there and I saw all the hardwoods as palm trees. At night I dreamed of taking the magic mushrooms and scuba diving with Ivan on a perfect enchanted isle somewhere in the Indian Ocean” (107). And his “semistardom” turned out “to be a lot more humbling than total obscurity”, so this new self-confidence has developed out of humility rather than egocentrism (Rolling Stone 31).

Film Sequence Blog (The Killing Fields)

The sequence I chose is from 23:44-27:20. It starts off with Pran waking Sydney up, bringing him coffee and a telegraph. The article Sydney and Pran wrote about the accidental bombings was on the first page of The New York Times. The director utilizes low-key lighting for this scene: Pran approaches Sydney with his wife’s concerns. While Sydney makes light of the subject, Pran’s face shows his worry, but he says nothing about his own opinions. Pran stoicism shows his deep loyalty to Sydney; he would never abandon him. As they talk about what the future may bring, the camera zooms into close-ups on their faces and racking focus; when Sydney speaks, the part of Pran’s face in the shot is out of focus, but when Pran starts to speak the focus switches to him and Sydney is then out of focus. This scene shows the close connection between the characters; Pran enters Sydney’s room to wake him up and remind shim “not to go back to sleep” as he leaves Sydney to prepare for the day. The two men are equals in this shadowy room with sparse décor. When Sydney learns of the story’s prominence in the newspaper, he says, “we must be doing something right”.
The sequence continues from the dark, quiet, private indoor setting to a chaotic outdoor setting through a sound bridge. Sydney talks about the Khmer Rouge’s advancement, but he is not yet in the camera shot; we see their jeep driving through the smoky city as fires rage. Sydney curses as he talks about how American involvement has caused suffering for Cambodians. This emphasizes the fault Sydney finds with American policies, as does the wide-angle lens that allows the viewer to see the many refugees filing into the city, fleeing from the insurgents. As they drive through the green countryside, a young soldier with pink flowers in his machine gun asks Sydney about American cars. He is depicted as an innocent boy; the close up on his face when Pran gives him a Mercedes symbol reveals his gleeful expression. When they reach the base, machine gun-wielding soldiers run past carts pulled by oxen and the soldiers are using a Coca-Cola factory for a war base; the conflicting interests of both the West and the East are evident in this sequence. An American soldier embraces a Cambodian soldier and their voices continue as the camera jumps around (off-screen sound) to different happenings; a wounded soldier smoking a cigarette, soldiers roasting a stray dog to eat, racks and racks of Coca-Cola bottle. The Cambodian soldier switches from his native tongue to English when he asks the soldier “Are we winning?” The director uses shallow focus to highlight Pran’s nervous facial expression; his worry from the earlier scene has carried over to this exchange. The camera then brings Sydney back to focus (racking focus) in a medium close up of the two men; they exchange concerned looks. Their close bond is reflected here; the men are reading each other’s thoughts. In more off-screen sound manipulation, the soldiers are discussing defensive plans when a bomb hits the factory.

Response to the film, The Killing Fields

Watching The Killing Fields, I was struck me by the subtle references to America. Interwoven throughout the film, these references hint at the horrid consequences of the Western involvement in Cambodia. When Sydney and Pran investigate Neak Luong in 1973 after a B-52 accidentally dropped 20-plus bombs on the refugee packed city, the camera scans the scene of wounded refugees and soldiers as a soldier listens to “Band on the Run” by Paul McCartney on a radio. In the midst of all this destruction and suffering, Western pop culture reminds the viewer of just who is responsible for this mess. Another example is the Coca-Cola factory being used as a military base for wounded Cambodian soldiers; bloody soldiers are outstretched on and propped up against crates of Coke bottles. When the American embassy evacuates Cambodia, the helicopters fly into the smoke-filled sky as a soldier takes down the American flag. As the capital falls to the Khmer Rouge, a French man at the embassy utters wistfully, “Adieu l’ancienne regime”: goodbye to the West, goodbye to the old, beautiful, gentle Cambodia. Throughout the film, the West is associated with death and danger: after the insurgents take over, any Cambodian who knows English and French is at risk of execution. Pran is constantly tested to see if he will respond to French commands or English questions. The comrades ask the group in English that those who were once doctors, professors, and other middle-class professions to confess and be forgiven by “Ungar”. Those who confess are embraced in front of the group, but executed under the cover of darkness.
The effects that most resonated with me when viewing this film were sound effects. Sydney listens to heartbreaking opera music when he misses Pran and watches coverage of Cambodia on the TV after he returns to America. The music is dramatic when Pran must decide to stay in Cambodia or leave with his family, suspenseful when he is trying to escape the killing fields. Children constantly scream and cry when Sydney and Pran hunt down war stories but when the mass exodus begins and we see Pran in the killing fields, there is only silence. No screaming children, no crying victims. Pran remarks that the best way to survive is to stay silent. The only noise is from the insurgent leaders who use loudspeakers to propagate the new government and convince the Cambdians of memory disease and the death of God.

Sydney Schanberg's articles for the NYTimes

Reading these articles, I find it very interesting that we hear only one journalist’s opinions and thoughts. Obviously Cambodia was not a safe place for anyone, let alone an American, to be in, and Sydney H. Schanberg was very brave to stay past the American evacuation. He offers us a unique look into what was really going on; it took years for Congress to realize that American troops were bombing Cambodia and another year for Congress to realize that Secretary of State Henry Kissinger ignored a Cambodian plea for peace negotiations, but Schanberg reports on real time happenings in the remaining “Lol Non Cambodia” and gives voice to the Cambodian refugees. However, his bias does shine through even in his more news-y stories. He employs pathos frequently, in particular with his titles and pictures, and states his opinion as fact, especially when he talks about the opinions of the Cambodian people or Cambodia stationed diplomats in regards to the apparent failings of the American government. Sometimes he seems completely against the American involvement in Cambodia, but at other times he does agree that there seems to be no right plan of action; along with the diplomats, maybe he too believes “we got them into this mess we can’t abandon them now” (Apr 10). So many of his articles cited the interminable waiting game the people of Neak Luong or Phnom Penh were forced to play. For five years, the insurgents slowly took more and more land, and the people were forced to flee inward, leaving their homes and lands in the countryside for the protection of the city. The government lost supply route after supply route as the number of people needing food, water and medical supplies increased. The country was basically starved to death, and the citizens were so used to it that they didn’t even flinch when a headless body of an insurgent floated down the river! While Schanberg does try to give us insight to how the people really felt, I think reading the Killing Fields will be a more accurate depiction of Cambodian sentiments.