Is TV violence all that bad for kids? The Age (Melbourne, Australia), March 5, 2005 Saturday, INSIGHT; Opinion; Pg. 9, 816 words, HUGH MACKAY LexisNexis Academic 9 Apr. 2008 

This article is a response to a report from The Weekend Australian that asserts a child’s witnessing of violence in media will result in higher levels of aggression. Writer Hugh Mackay refers to a 1960’s American child-psychology experiment which consisted of observing the different ways children would play with a particular object after they watched different videos, ones that either showed children playing peacefully with that toy or children punching and kicking it. The findings were that those who watched a violent video would treat the toy violently, and those who watched the peaceful video would treat the toy peacefully. Mackay makes sure to point out that although the children would emulate the behavior, it has been concluded that the effects are only short-term, and that all long-term personalities remain virtually unchanged. Furthermore, he declares that the search for variables which might shed light on a child’s increased or decreased susceptibility toward emulating violence in the media result only in negligible data that cannot give any indication of why a particular child would be acting more or less violent than any other one. Mackay’s overall point is that although these experiments may show children in the act of emulating violence on television, all large-scale national crime statistics show that the introduction of television into the societies of decades past resulted in severe drops in crime, and that the age-group which watches the least amount of television today commits the highest amount of violent crime. In short, what a child views in movies or videogames has far less positive or negative impact on his personality than the benefits of extensive human interaction, or the dangers of lazy, television-filled inactivity.      

This article is worth factoring into the discussion of Natural Born Killer’s potential effect on inspiring three young couples to committing separate violent murders in Europe and America, all after their viewing (and in one case, repeated viewing) of the 1994 film. Although accusations were made that the filmmakers and producers were responsible, hardly evidence has been found to support them. Mackay also says that at the time of his writing the article in 2005, the violent crime rate in America had been in steady decline for the last 10 years – which would mean the trend began in 1995, one year after Natural Born Killers was released. If violence in the media could truly influence people to emulate the brutality on screen, Natural Born Killers would surely qualify for those results, considering the rare intensity of bloodshed that is present throughout the whole movie. And considering it grossed 11 million dollars in the first weekend, and over 50 million dollars to date, enough people have seen the movie that we can say if there was a slight rise in a person’s aggressive tendencies after watching the movie, no matter how slight, the accumulation across the country would certainly be noticeable.

The relevance of this article has to do with the controversy surrounding Natural Born Killers, over what impacts a film of such incredible violence (coupled with its themes of glorifying such acts) can – and has – and will – have on the societies of its viewers.  Boyle draws on three specific cases of murderous love-duos that occured after the films release. Edmonson-Darras, Rey-Maupin, and Herbert-Paindavoine were all young couples tried for committing horrendous murders as pairs, and all three couples admitted to having been influenced by Natural Born Killers, further adding to the intense question of how acts of brutality we see in the media are linked to real-world violence.      

“What’s Natural about Killing? Gender, Copycat Violence and Natural Born Killers” By: Boyle, Karen. Journal of Gender Studies, Nov2001, Vol. 10 Issue 3, p311-321, 11p; DOI: 10.1080/09589230120086511; EBESCO, 9 Apr. 2008

Karen Boyle argues that Natural Born Killers leaves a dangerous impression on society, which places male violence as something more natural than female violence, and perhaps even something to be expected, while female violence is somehow a reversal of a girl’s original nature, to be drawn from or manipulated upon that female’s innately more submissive personality. She compares Mickey, the male half of the murderous love-duo, to Mallory, the female half, and concludes that the different treatment given to the characters has a drastic on the viewer, even if the viewer doesn’t realize. She points to Mickey’s depiction as an emblem of pure, glorified brutality, a hero for fellow convicts, a star on primetime television. Mickey’s calm exterior and understated personal background leaves the viewer with the understanding he’s been a man of sheer violence his whole life; and that for man, violence is somehow hereditary, and that for man, violence is ultimately nothing more or less than normal.

Boyle contrasts Natural Born Killer’s depiction of Mickey with that of Mallory: as a sex-object, a young girl who carries out violence on others only as revenge for the abuse she received from her father during her upbringing, and is brought “into” this world by its original inhabitant, the male, citing the image of Mickey riding to her house on horseback, after having escaped from jail, to rescue her and take her away – but not before showing her how to kill her parents in cold blood. She also points to interviews given by director Oliver Stone and actor Woody Harrelson, in which the two men emphasis Harrelson’s own family history, specifically his father’s murderous past, which she says is proof of the intentional perpetuation of the film’s prejudiced ideas, (or at least a complete admission of having those sentiments themselves, even if they didn’t recognize it).

The article furthermore proposes that other critics’ lack of commentary on this aspect of the film is an indication of just how easily its viewers are willing to accept it as true, and therefore the contrasting depictions of Mickey and Mallory are consequently that much more dangerous. Boyle argues that to paint the female-murderer as a more intriguing, fragile, or more special specimen than the male-murderer can only cast confusion and blindness on society’s ability to sentence its criminals with adequately balanced judgment, and these imposed attitudes will hamper the cause of studying the true motives behind the mass-murderer, which shouldn’t be thought of as automatically in every male psyche, or inherently lacking and foreign to the female psyche, but rather an equally potential outcome for any human mind.

Marita Sturken History and Theory, Vol. 36, No. 4, Theme Issue 36: Producing the Past: Making Histories Inside and Outside the Academy (Dec., 1997), pp. 64-79

In this article, Marita Sturken discusses Oliver Stone’s popularity and bad name as a filmmaker, but defends Oliver Stone against his critics who lividly denounce the director’s credibility as an American cinematic historian, and maker of the legitimate docudrama. Stone’s 1986 Platoon was greeted with total acclaim. Sturken attributes this to the fact that Stone personally served in Vietnam, and therefore the public perceived his portrayal of his experiences as not only credible but deserved. Sturken implies that the American public felt better about themselves after seeing his movie because of his cinematic storytelling skills, which were so convincing that the viewers felt they themselves were present in the war, and somehow vindicated from any guilt of being lucky enough to stay out of it. However, Stone’s 1991 JFK, along with his1995 Nixon, garnered unbelievable amounts of anger and resentment, first for their unpatriotic messages, and secondly for what was, by many, perceived as a total distortion of truthful American history.

The article discusses the relationship between memory vs. history, and how the camera can affect both sides of the equation. The camera is a mechanism of recording truth, and yet at the same time it is a way of expressing one’s own perception of truth before passing it on. In this way, one’s memory of history can become history itself. Sturken believes Stone has earned the privilege of narrating the truth of 20^th Century America for its future generations in any way he wants, calling him the country’s “cultural messenger,” one which his people deserve, because of the incredible aestheticism of his films, his artistic audacity and determination to voice his own opinions. This article should be considered when thinking about Natural Born Killers for many reasons. Firstly, Natural Born Killers is a piece about violence, and it should be remembered that the director was himself engulfed in an environment of devastating war, where horrific images (real ones) were around him at all times. That vastly important part of the director’s identity should not be forgotten. 

Secondly, Sturken points out that Stone considers himself both a “cinematic-historian” and “just a storyteller.” The fact that Stone can see himself in such different ways at the same time sheds light on how he can create a very direct commentary about violence in the media without having to state specific opinions, or provide worthy morals to his story, or suggest solutions to society’s problems, or cite direct scientific or sociological sources to backup whatever he’s saying. The article focuses on Stone’s ability to manipulate images in order to retell things his own way. About JFK, Oliver Stone said, “I defend what I’m doing as something between entertainment and fact.” Natural Born Killers is just that, a cinematic masterpiece between commentary and entertainment. But, also, the subject of the commentary is that as well: the viewer finds himself focused on American primetime news, the sensationalized accounts written for the blood-thirsty news-watcher that lie somewhere between entertainment and fact.

ONE MAN'S FAVOURITE FILM IS ANOTHER’S MOVIE OUTRAGE
The Scotsman, December 29, 1999, Wednesday, Pg. 3, 478 words, Phil Miller
 

In this article Phil Miller gives a light overview of the differing climates of censorship across time and around the world, and refers to some of the more famous individual films that were censored, banned, cut or delayed in their time. In terms of religion, he notes how Britain outlawed the showing of the face of Christ in any film until 1940, and how Monty Python’s The Life of Brian, a religious comedy, was denounced and picketed by religious groups around the world when it first came out. Similarly, the lighthearted Dogma was condemned by the US Catholic Church as recently as 1999. He briefly mentions the Nazi and Soviet propaganda of the 1930’s, and banned horror films such as The Exorcist – noting how what was once a terrifying scene has, with time, become somewhat laughable.

In terms of violence, Miller mention Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Saving Private Ryan, Natural Born Killers, Cronenberg’s Crash, and A Clockwork Orange. He compares western culture to that of the Gulf states, where sex is censored far more harshly than violence. It’s interesting to see the pattern in which almost everything that is censored at one time eventually, and sometimes immediately, becomes socially acceptable. Take Saving Private Ryan, for example. The dramatic opening sequence of the American troops landing on Omaha Beach is regarded by many as the greatest ever tribute to that significant day – but it potentially could have been censored for being too true to the actual events in its depiction of deaths and casualties.
 

It’s also not just the strictness of the censorship boards that change over time, but also the mentality of the filmmakers. Miller writes of Kubrick’s promptness at withdrawing A Clockwork Orange from circulation when rumors of a copycat-murderer came about. A few decades later, Oliver Stone did no such thing in similar circumstances, even after the news of a third young couple mutually participating in cold-blooded murder after watching Natural Born Killers.    

Review of Oliver Stone’s USA: Film, History and Controversy by Robert Brent Toplin Paul Buhle, The Journal of American History, Vol. 88, No. 2, (Sep., 2001), pp. 747-748 Published by: Organization of American Historians Jstor 9 Apr., 2008

Paul Buhle reviews a collection of essays which cover various subjects to do with Stone’s vision and works, ranging from the charge that the nature of film will inevitably result in the over-simplifying, and therefore skewing, of large historical topics, such as the legacy of Nixon and the assassination of JFK. An exceedingly favorable review of Stone’s Vietnam trilogy comes alongside two dreadful reviews of two of his culture-oriented works, The Doors, and Natural Born Killers. His two presidential films JFK and Nixon are slammed by prominent authors as ridiculously inaccurate, and even quite juvenile. Buhle insinuates the essays go beyond discussing the works on their own and carry the focus over to Stone himself, to question and contemplate the quality, legitimacy and sanity of Oliver Stone’s directorial career canon.

Buhle merely comments on the nature of historical debate itself, sighing over cinema’s ability to out-persuade his meager, old-fashioned written texts, borne from a medium utterly unable to compete with the overwhelming portrayals of awing blockbusters like JFK and Platoon. He ends the review by graciously tipping his hat to Stone for his sturdy refusal to automatically accept common conceptions of recent American history simply because one might pressure him to do so. Buhle’s final point is more than valid: if there’s nothing to hide, why is such a huge chunk of government documentation completely lost?

The different opinions of Oliver Stone’s work apparently found in this book indicate the vast subject matter the director inevitably takes on at any given time. His movies are never about only a few characters, even when the cast is only a few people strong, such as in Talk Radio. The themes and dialogues always spill over the immediate mimetic confinements of the set and begin to address our culture as a whole, or our society as a whole, or our government as a whole. What’s particularly interesting is that Natural Born Killers received a terrible review in this book, which on the whole seems to give Stone credit where it’s due and assaults him where it’s not: Platoon is revered by all as a powerful, historically accurate, raw portrayal of a real war, while Nixon and JFK cause so much ire to those who oppose the conspiracies theories put forth in them especially because of how compelling the quality of the films are, as exciting, enticing feature-length blockbusters. But regardless of the looseness of the latter films’ historical accuracy, no one can argue that the one thing Stone understands better than pretty much everyone is cinema. And Natural Born Killers, despite being about all of media in America, and elsewhere, is a fundamentally a film about the roots, history and development of film, where all the evidence is available for anyone to see.              

Timothy P. Rouse “Natural Born Killers” Teaching Sociology, Vol. 23, No. 4, (Oct., 1995), pp. 433-434 American Sociological Association Jstor 9 Apr. 2008

Timothy Rouse’s sociologically oriented review is a neat, swift map of all the great themes waiting to be found, analyzed and discussed in Natural Born Killers. He quickly places the film into the category of the postmodern, quoting Todd Gitlin’s definition of it as “a constellation of styles and tones,” but doesn’t dwell on the issue in order to carry on with his review. He doesn’t bog down his reader with lengthy personal musings or painstaking passages in search of the most perfect way to express himself, instead he explains the scope of the themes he witnessed by merely mentioning the their variety, such as Jimmy Olsen from Superman comics and the American media’s complete disregard for Native American societal conditions, and suggests what parts of the film should be compared to what examples from other areas of academics, for us to contemplate, and moves on: the economic aspect of the film, he says, should be compared to that of the Wizard of Oz, wherein the studio makes sure the driving theme of the genre is the driving theme of its profits: for the Wizard of Oz, fairytales; for Natural Born Killers, brutal action. Half of this short review is Rouse’s own narration of a few scenes from the movie, where he ties together the violent elements of Mickey’s character with the seductiveness of Mallory’s image, and then demonstrates with simplicity the backdrop of the drooling media goon and frenetic prison ward, all the while continually giving credit to Oliver Stone’s filmmaking techniques by picking out a detail of a shot, or a moment of composition, and openly relating what that single trait meant to him as an appreciative viewer.

Rouse is extremely open-minded in his appraisal, acknowledging the need for disclaimers from teachers before showing Natural Born Killers to classes but also immediately looking past the surface of what, for some, may appear to be mindless violence, unnecessary sex and tasteless gore that negatively affects the viewer. The review ends with a list of questions which provide topics of discussion for other classes and seminars almost by the line, all of which breakdown the elements of the film into clear issues with cues for the discussion’s beginning, such as the physical attractiveness of our cinema’s violent heroes, the American media’s blurry distinction between news and entertainment, the effect that uncertainty brings on crime levels and criminal mentalities, the media’s impact on culture and the role of gender in violent media.