Two men are clearing up their father’s trailer in a park in Jacksonville, Florida. There’s a full ashtray, beer, a hamburger. “It’s odd, you know, you walk in and it’s exactly like he’s just out,” says David, the older brother. “Except there’s blood everywhere.”
There’s blood around the bed, and over here where it soaked through the floor. The blood is from their dad Bob Massey, and their cousin Amy Hatfield. I see David set up a crowdfunding page to help with the clean-up, though it didn’t get anywhere near its target figure. Bob and his niece Amy were killed – strangled and their throats cut –in a double homicide. “I think it’s really going to hit me after we’re done and we get everything finished,” says younger brother Michael. The little girl running around I assume is the daughter of one of them, Bob’s granddaughter.
It’s a side to serious crime you don’t often see on television – not exciting, or glamorous. Just horrible, and really really sad. This sobering documentary, American Justice (BBC2), goes everywhere in the legal system, and it’s not much more glamorous on the side that administers it. “I need you to pack me a bag again,” says gloomy, bearded detective Bobby Bowers down the phone, probably to his wife. He’s off chasing Amy’s boyfriend Thomas Brown, known as TJ, who’s heading towards Georgia.
TJ doesn’t remain on the run for long; he’s picked up at a drug rehabilitation clinic. “I’ve never done anything like this before,” he tells Bobby. “I never hurt anybody like this before.” Still, the state prosecutor will be seeking the death penalty. The only other option for murder in Florida is life without parole.
Jacksonville has a couple of reputations when it comes to law and order: it has been called the murder capital of Florida; it’s also known for tough justice. Too tough, some think, and controversial state attorney Angela Corey faces a battle to get re-elected. Not that she’s apologising. “I will not apologise for being tough on those criminals,” she says, often. Oh, but then maybe she is sorry. “I also want to apologise to them for doing what we have to do,” she says – them being the people, and doing what we have to do being sending a lot of people to death row. Well, it’s political here, so you expect a bit of contradiction.
That – the state attorney election – is the backdrop against which American Justice is set, and what makes it so fascinating. Not only does it cover every part of the process – from courtroom to sordid bloodstained trailer, and everyone involved, including the state attorney, prosecutors, defence lawyers, judges, police, defendants, bereaved families – but it also has an extra layer on top: political context.
I don’t think this first of three episodes, called Punishment, necessarily needed another case, or to yo-yo between the two. Sometimes television makers underestimate an audience’s ability to focus on and become involved and immersed in one thing (Exhibit A: Making a Murderer). But, having said that, the other case is an extraordinary one, and takes in ground not covered in the first, such as court. Trey Wright is being prosecuted for murder even though no one thinks he actually killed anyone, or meant anyone to get killed. Here though, if there’s a violent death, someone needs to be held responsible, and the argument is that Trey was, despite the victim being his cousin and best friend Bryant Collier.
I don’t know which is more extraordinary – that or the fact his defence lawyer seems to expect Trey to plead guilty even if he believes himself to be innocent. Because of the fear of a trial, and fear of the sentence if found guilty. He doesn’t. He gambles (because it is a gamble) and wins. Not guilty. I don’t know if the next episodes will feature the results of Angela Corey’s attempt last year to get re-elected but I couldn’t wait. I think the people got both those right, which is reassuring I suppose.
After the stark reality of American Justice, Inside No 9 (BBC2) was exactly what was needed. More death and retribution, but this time served up by Steve Pemberton and Reece Shearsmith, in a trendy east London gallery. With a little help from Felicity Kendal, Fiona Shaw, Morgana Robinson and Peter Kay.
Horrible, macabre and gruesome, but gloriously and hilariously so. Agatha Christie meets Damien Hirst – with puns. The only shame is that this was the last in the run. More, more, more.
