Narrative and Conviction:
The Thin Blue Line

June 20, 2008

The Thin Blue Line (1988) by Errol Morris is an example of a creative work that accomplished something in this world: it got a man (Randall Dale Adams) off death row. He had been convicted of killing a police officer in Dallas in November, 1976. As Errol Morris elucidates the case through interviews and re-enactments the verdict comes to look patently absurd. In the hands of Morris the documentary takes the place of a closing argument before a jury.. and we, as the audience, become the jury trying to decide whether we buy the narrative that is being laid out.

The documentary makes great use of disconcertingly simple illustrations. Running throughout are recreations of the crime.. with gun going off and police officer falling to the ground. Then there are also close ups of newspaper headlines and other printed materials. Formally this material allows for visual relief from the constant interviews, and more substantively it allows for small differences to be clarified in the mind of the viewer.

As the same scene plays out multiple times, with various versions adding or stripping away basic details, The Thin Blue Line calls to mind Rashomon. Witnesses and detectives put the events together differently and pretty soon we start to wonder if there really is a correct answer to be found in these competing versions. But the credit should go to Morris for never letting this disorientation or cloud of truth distort his construction of the events. The weight of presenting a clear narrative of the contested events.. and cutting through the accumulated versions.. was felt deeply by Morris. Despite the difficulty of finding and locating truth, it must be found.. the life of an actual man on death row lies in the balance.

We might have thought that something of the same weight would have been felt by the judge presiding over the original trial. As Morris drums home his case, it is hard to understand how the judge could not have seen through the false narratives that had been fabricated to convict this man. Morris interviews the judge, who provides an interesting detail of his own mindset during the trial:

I do have to admit that in the Adams case, and I really never said this, Doug Moulder's final argument was one that I had never heard before about the thin blue line of police that separated the public from anarchy. I have to concede that my eyes kind of welled up when I heard that. It did get me emotionally, but I don't think I showed it.

There, in this passage that comes and goes, we see the source of the title. And, further, we learn about the specific nature of the weight felt by the judge: above all upholding the police out of fear of the fragility of order. His more proper concern is with the innocence or guilt of this particular person of this particular crime.. which is a lot less inspiring.. and may not always bring tears to the eyes.

This brief statement from the judge is a perfect snapshot of the kinds of high and deeply felt values that often lead to the worst abuses of justice. I am sure we could speak with the guards and interrogators of the prisoners held at Guantanamo and hear some of the same high values expressed. How much more just the world would be if people could begin to really interrogate their deepest values and commitments.. the very things that bring tears to their eyes.

[The Thin Blue Line was released in 1988, but check out how lively discussion about this work can be on this post for Errol Morris' blog on the New York Times website.]