A horrific triple child murder leads to an indictment and trial of three nonconformist boys based on questionable evidence.

This film really paints a strong picture of the stereotypical backwoods Southerner. Were people picked for this purpose, or is this an accurate depiction of West Memphis? The religious views are very interesting, especially what people think devil worshipers do (and the fact they believe in literal devil worshipers).

You have to love the fake doctor who testifies that black t-shirts and black fingernails are signs of devil worship. Having grown up in the 1990s and being one of those who wore black, I know exactly what it is like to be a target of that level of ignorance.

This really brings the idea of "Christian forgiveness" to the forefront. Rather than forgive or turn the other cheek, these folks talk of revenge murder and defecating on graves. And they pass around rumors of "testicles in jars".

Were the West Memphis Three guilty? I have no idea. Probably not. But either way, this says so much about a community.

To begin with, at first when Metallica's opening chords for their great song 'Welcome Home (Sanitarium)' came up at the start of the movie - as the bodies of the three children being pulled from the site where they were discovered in the Robin Hood woods - I was taken aback. It seems a little much to put that music to these images, probably images that would work best without any music or a different theme. But it becomes clearer why this is used - there's an ominous, dark tone that the filmmakers (one of whom, Joe Berlinger, would go on to make a Metallica documentary),Metallica actually does the music for the movie (all those metal-music moments are them),and for Damien Echols this was the song that made his situation remind him of the most: being stuck in a place where time stands still, no one leaves and no one will (as the song goes). Paradise Lost is the story of an insane situation, for both the parents of the victims (who think and/or know these teenagers are guilty, even before any facts are presented) and for the teenagers themselves (one of them is a 72 IQ).

It would be one thing though if the film were just a true crime story, or a story of justice - or, it should be said injustice, since it's a thing that, perhaps after the fact or in hindsight one knows in 2016 the convicted killers were pardoned in 2011 after so much evidence that was tainted or botched and so on was revealed - but it's also a story of a particular place. West Memphis, Arkansas and its people are like another character, and the directors get some compelling footage and images from this part of the country where everything is just flat in the landscape sense, it looks the same at Christmas time as it does in the summer (it's kind of jarring to see all those decorations up with everything seeming to look the same),and Church is with a capital 'C' and many attend in order to ward off Satan. One of those is Mark Byers, a man who has quite a singing voice in Church and a helluva way with a pistol outside of it; see the scene where he talks about using the teenagers to shoot at with a pumpkin as his target.

It's easy to see at first why tempers and passions would be so heated: three young children killed but more to that, mutilated (some of the details are sickening),and left in such a way that brings up the occult. One of the things that makes this movie stick out, to a point where it's difficult to say that the filmmakers aren't balanced, is that they show the parents of the kids as much as the killers on trial - prosecution and defense get fairly equal time on camera, albeit as the trial goes along further for Baldwin and Echols the evidence points more to not guilty than guilt. Even if one watches it today and knows the outcomes of the trial (and what happened years later) there's so much compelling information and testimony and characterizations to go on; how Echols is on the stand; how Byers changes from one place (church, shooting at a pumpkin) to another (on the stand, with a brain tumor that may or may not be there); teenage girls who won't be on camera, leaving the filmmakers to get creative with their coverage; the families and people watching who can't take it; a moment with Echols and his baby in the courtroom.

The film is long at 2 1/2 hours, but it never feels it, and the movement from one point in the case to the next becomes more disheartening as it goes along. The first part where Misskelley has his separate trial is hard enough to take (that involved the confession that was false) and is heartbreaking to watch; the second part is where the details in the case gain traction - this piece doesn't fit here, the reasonable doubt there, what happened with this piece of evidence that was *lost* - and in a way knowing the outcome makes it all the more tragic and captivating. I wish I had been there at the time to see this without knowing the results, and perhaps it would have made for a different viewing experience. As it is, Paradise Lost captures not just a court case or grisly murder, but a set of feelings and emotions in the air in that place and time: rage, confusion, desperation, fear and disillusionment with the public and law enforcement and so on. It has staying power past being a typical, dark-envelope-pushing HBO documentary.

In 1993 West Memphis, Arkansas, three young boys Christopher Byers, Michael Moore and Stevie Branch are kidnapped and brutally murdered. Three teen outsiders Jessie Misskelley Jr., Damien Echols and Jason Baldwin are soon taken in as suspects in a supposed satanic sadosexual murder ritual. Despite questionable evidence and questionable police tactics, the three are convicted with Damien getting death by lethal injection.

Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky are functional documentarians. The film looks more like a TV news report from the 80s. It's gritty and raw. More than anything, it is the subject matter that is the most compelling. It's a fascinating case with exciting trial revelations and obvious injustice that is better than most fiction written in Hollywood.