M

Sympathetic child murderers get a bad rap. Honestly, just because they kill youngsters doesn't mean that they're inherently nefarious. On the contrary, their violent behavior may belie evil. They are simply overly-sensitive, suffering, deranged characters who want to protect children - and gratify their uncontrollable homicidal urges - by removing them from the cruelties of the world which they live in. (Except, can't they see that they ARE the cruelties of the world?) So in these murderers' mind, perhaps they see their heinous actions as humanitarian ones: aiding the lives of both the children and themselves. This speculation isn't meant to necessarily question or establish the psychologically skewed workings of crazed minds, but is rather spontaneous contemplation inspired by Fritz Lang's "M." That film develops the character of a sympathetic child murderer in 1931 Germany. Hans Becket is his name. His first scene is ethereally empty - simply the shadow of his bowl-hatted head on a town bulletin. He speaks, his voice a nasal whimper of German, a self-contained contradiction of weak, indulgent sound speaking strong-spined language. It was creepy, yes, but not skin-crawlingly so. Just a bit dissonant. The scene in which his front is first shown elicited similar feelings. He pulls his face into different expressions in front of a mirror, while a voice-over of a detective describes probable characteristics of the susupected murderer - things like lethargy, an actor's personality, indolence, and insanity. His face convolutes, mouth open to any wandering insect, bug eyes widening to unthinkable proportions (I feared for them!) before the scene is finally cut. This scene, too, is more disturbing than horrific. As the film progresses, Hans is captured by criminals and tried in their impromptu court of sorts. He delivers a magnificent monologue, disclaiming his horrendous activity in the roundabout way most il-logicians do. His performance is so impassioned, raw, and human, however, that I found myself pitying him. Against my will, I pitied that sick man. But then again, he claimed that he behaved against his will, that there was no way he could stop what he did - that he couldn't remember committing murders, but only heard about his violence afterwards in newspapers. I think that there is something of the child murderer in all of us, or at least something of all of us in that child murderer. (Which is akin to claiming that "I mean what I say" and "I say what I mean" are similar assertions, or "I see what I eat" and "I eat what I see" for that matter, and therefore, what I really mean to say is only one of those phrases: there is something of all of us in that child murderer.) So I suppose he is a sympathetic child murderer, simply in the fact that he is human - that he shares with all of humanity that bond. But I don't think that is why I found myself pitying him. Maybe I really did mean the first phrase: there is something of the child murderer in all of us. Not in the fact that we hurt children in any way, simply in the fact that sometimes we feel as though we cannot control our behavior, we echo Peter Lorre's cry, "But I… I can't help myself! I have no control over this, this evil thing inside me, the fire, the voices, the torment!... It's there all the time, driving me out to wander the streets, following me, silently, but I can feel it there. It's me, pursuing myself. I want to escape, to escape from myself! But it's impossible. I can't escape. I have to obey it. I have to run… endless streets. I want to escape, to get away..... Who knows what it's like to be me? How I'm forced to act… how I must… Must… Don't want to Must! Don't want to, but must! And then… a voice screams. I can't bear to hear it! I can't go on…" Though the vast majority of the human race has not commited the crimes of Hans Beckert, many of them have led "lives of quiet desperation." I have often felt that some of my behavior is unalterable, some of my habits so thoroughly engrained into the makeup of my being that they are irremovable. Hans Beckert represents the person who allows these bad habits to consume them. He embodies the indulger. So I think sympathetic child murderers deserve the bad rap they get, but with that detestation, also a miniscule measure of pity. Just a tad.