"The Shield": Crime and Punishment
"The Shield": Crime and Punishment
By James J. Murtagh, M.D.
Police Drama vividly portrays a lower circle of hell for a guilty conscience.
Warning: spoiler alert. If you have not seen the final episode of The Shield, do not read further. The episode contains a major plot twist which is discussed in this Op- Ed.
"Corruptio optimi pessima,"
Latin
proverb for "corruption of the best is the worst of
all."
It is fiendishly appropriate that the television police drama, The Shield, ended its series in 2008, exactly 700 years since Dante began writing the Inferno. The Shield, possibly more than any other series, demonstrates the most intense hell on earth, forcing its worst characters to kill the people and things they love best.
Exquisitely appropriate punishments are meted out to
the guilty, with twisted, but appropriate, justice. There is
no escape for the damned, spiraling into lower and deeper
cycles of pain.
For seven years The Shield, like the
Sopranos, and HBO's "The Wire", shows evil in all
its seductive guises. Of the three series, the Shield was
most shocking, even moving its audience to cheer for the
central character, Vick Mackey, the macho corrupt police
detective at his most murderous and torturing self. Even
Mackey's murder of a fellow policeman evoked a morbid
fascination. How much could one man get away with?
Mackey
initially plans to get away Scott-free through a devil-deal
to turn state's evidence and become a snitch himself. He
claims he beat the system. Or has he?
Wrong! Fate
reserves circles in hell for treacherous murderers even
below simple murderers. Not being caught appears infinitely
crueler than being fried by 2,400 volts in an electric
chair.
For his immunity, Mackey betrays everyone and everything he cares about. Mackey is sentenced to life in a cubicle, cut off from anything or anyone he ever cared about. He is in a deep freeze as cold as great lake Cocytus Dante described at the bottom of the ninth circle of hell, reserved for the great traitors of all time.
Hell's
best-kept secret is that we create it for ourselves. Mackey
connived, threatened, hoodwinked and betrayed to get this
cubicle. It is nothing but an existential
nightmare.
Others also receive punishments befitting
their great sins. Mackey's one-time sidekick, Shane Vendrell
kills his own wife and child, then kills himself. But not
before Vendrell realizes the enormity of his crimes, and
comes to true contrition.
In a subplot, a sixteen year old
serial murderer is caught. A haunting reminder is made that
this boy could have grown up to be Vic Mackey, and there is
little moral difference between the boy murderer and the
ex-police cop. Both operate on the same ethic.
Robert
Frost wrote that torment by ice can be much more painful
than by fire, metaphorically contrasting passionate torments
with death by hatred. Mackey's fate is death by ice, frozen
into a bland cubicle, with no hope of redemption.
What is
the best way to punish a depraved guilty man? To punish
him? Or just possibly, not punishing the guilty be even
worse pain.
Dostoevsky also believed that punishment, was
essential to redemption of the human soul. Mackey escapes
being caught, and loses his one remaining chance, and he
must endure a long unhappy life.
Shakespeare, repeated over and over variations of a single story, namely, murder, guilt and consequences. Could Macbeth have endured a hollow life if he had survived as tyrant, surrounded by luxuries won by murder? Macbeth preferred his head on a pike to life in bloody Inverness. Something tells me that Mackey would have been much happier ending everything in single combat.
Shakespeare granted the release of death as the greatest boon to both homicidal heroes and villains. Hamlet, Vendrell and Mackey all lived in worlds "rotten." The ghetto's of Los Angeles have much in common with Hamlet's Denmark.
"To never have been born may be the greatest boon of all." Vendrell, paralyzed beyond Hamlet, not even able to ask "to be, or not to be," instead murders what he loves.
Not all villains could be punished by no
punishment. The Iagos and Richard IIIs delight in escape.
Could fitting punishment depend more on the nature of the
criminal, than on the crime? For some criminals, capital
punishment is devoutly to be wished. For Dante, divine
punishment was necessary for the operation of a divine
Universe.
Do we, in the modern world, including our
leaders, suffer even more because the possibility of
punishment often seems remote?
For Dante, redemption came only after being caught, being punished, and renouncing sin. For The Shield's Mackey, there is no punishment, which turns out to be, for at least one criminal, the worst punishment of all.
James J. Murtagh
Jr.
jmurtag@mindspring.com