The Empty Chair (Film Review)
-- By Riley Selleck, CADP Board Member and
Amnesty International Death Penalty Coordinator
for Colorado
"A process, not an event"
New film examines loss, punishment, and
healing
The subject of The Empty Chair, a new documentary,
is an experience that very few of us could
possibly comprehend: the murder of a family
member, and having to deal with the aftermath
of that event.
The film tells four stories of loss: Renny
Cushing, whose father was murdered by his
police officer neighbor; Sue Norton, whose
parents were shot and robbed for $61 and
a pickup truck; Suse and Peter Lowenstein,
whose son died on Pan Am 103 over Lockerbie,
Scotland; and Susan Gove Ramunda, whose daughter
was bludgeoned to death with a rock.
The film opens with the familiar voice of
Sister Helen Prejean. Her reputation as an
opponent of the death penalty might precede
the film, and indeed, over the course of
the film we are left waiting for the anti-death
penalty pontification to begin.
But the film is centrally emotional and
personal, not political; pro- and anti-death
penalty statements are ancillary to an examination
of loss and the often divergent meaning assigned
thereto. It achieves real power in the depth
of thought and emotion it provokes, and also
by declining to espouse any high-handed dogma
solely for the digestion of the abolitionist
constituency.
In each story there is a catharsis of some
sort, an avocation that each person pursues
in an effort to heal. Cushing, for instance,
became the Executive Director of Murder Victims'
Families for Reconciliation and an anti-death
penalty advocate. Norton built a close friendship
with the murderer of her parents and fought
in vain to save him from execution.
In accounting for the full gamut of perspectives,
however, the film consciously gives equal
time to pro-death penalty viewpoints. Gove
Ramunda became an impassioned death penalty
advocate, a direct counterpart to Cushing
in many instances. Her rage is palpable and
unabashed, and no less valid or essential
to her own healing than Cushing's advocacy
or Norton's compassion are to theirs.
As someone who opposes the death penalty,
I naturally found the philosophies of Cushing
and Norton to be much more compelling-and
frankly, I think the filmmakers do as well,
despite their efforts to be fair. They seem
to reserve the most indelible moments of
the film for Cushing. He argues that the
death penalty is symbolic of our society's
failure to meet the needs of victims. We
are operating under a very grave misapprehension-that
somehow the death penalty acts as a balm
for our pain, and can nullify the evil act
that prompted it. "Healing is a process,
not an event," he points out. The arc
of that process so often points to forgiveness,
but execution forecloses the possibility
that victims might even learn how to forgive.
