A Basket Full of Kisses for a Basket Full of Hugs

All of us but the most saintly probably have at least a touch of evil in us. But there is a threshold that most of us mercifully never reach. Such is not the case with the criminally insane psychopath. On Good Friday, authorities in a Purcell, Oklahoma apartment complex found the body of Jamie Rose Bolin, a ten-year old girl, in a bedroom closet rented by 26-year old Kevin Underwood. The man apparently intended to butcher and eat her as human shish kebab.

What makes a man in our society want to do this? What impelled Underwood to 1) want to do it; 2) think it was a good idea; 3) plan to do it; and 4) attempt to carry out the crime? Could anything be more heinous? Probably, but this is about as evil as it gets on an individual human scale. Obviously, Underwood must be removed from society and dealt with appropriately. Most adults would probably advocate for or acquiesce to the death penalty in this and similar cases.

Recently, I watched The Bad Seed (1956), which I’ve seen twice before over the years. Based on the William March (1893-1954) novel of the same name (first published in 1954) and the subsequent Maxwell Anderson (1888-1959) play, the film explores the issues of what makes a person – of any age or either gender – evil. The answer is left to the audience, but a strong case is made for genetic moral deformity. Directed by Mervyn LeRoy (1900-1987), the action and character development closely follow the book and play (except for the ending, which was dictated by then-current film codes); many of the same actors worked in both show versions.

Rhoda Penmark (played brilliantly by Patty McCormack, who now incidentally acts as Liz Le Cerva, Adriana’s mother on The Sopranos – see “Long Term Parking,” 2004), is the Bad Seed. Through much of the movie, she frenetically plays Claude Debussy’s “Clair de lune” on her piano. Only eight years old, she has already developed a full case of greedy and maniacal narcissism. Quite adept at charming adults, she is a budding psycopath who is willing to kill anyone in her way to get what she wants. She plays “princess” games with her father and family friends; particularly creepy is her little game of a basket full of kisses for a basket full of hugs. What makes this black and white film so effective despite its theatrical contrivances and stark shadows is the weird mix of subtle humor, pure evil, and the moral dilemmas of perplexed "normal" adults.

Without going into the whole plot, let’s just say that what Rhoda wants, Rhoda must have. When her father Kenneth, about to leave for a military assignment, promises to his wife Christine that he’ll call and write often, Rhoda, in a princess dress and pigtails, responds: “A special page for me?” Kenneth melts and assures her special pages and all his love. Husky voiced Christine seems haunted and troubled even before he leaves. “Oh, four weeks is a long, long time,” she says. Indeed, she is right.

Enter a large and darkly humorous dose of Freudian psychology in the guise of Monica Breedlove, the matronly upstairs neighbor and apartment owner who lives with her brother Emory. She is delighted and intrigued by Rhoda, noting above Christine’s objections that Rhoda plays by her own rules. Monica, amid and despite all her giddy and modern ideas about psychology, vitamins, and sleeping pills, dotes on the evil little princess. “I have a surprise for you,” she says. Rhoda immediately responds: “Presents?” Monica’s interaction with Christine and Rhoda is fascinating: she treats the mother like a child and the child like a young protege.

Enter Reginald Tasker, who studies the criminally insane. Eventually, he explains one theory of the genetic transmission of evil, in this case skipping one generation. “It’s as if these children were born blind,” he says. From early childhood, they are “bad seeds, and nothing can change them.”

There is much in the story about “breeding” (developed with irony and wit), which brings us to the apartment’s groundskeeper and handyman, Leroy Jessup. Monica Breedlove early on posits that Leroy “has the mind of an eight year old” – which makes him the perfect foil for Rhoda (he is one of the first to figure her out, as he is a bit touched himself). Leroy’s interactions with Rhoda are hilariously creepy.

The question remains open: how much are a person’s actions dictated by nature, and how much by nurture? And why, according to most empirical facts, are males more likely to commit atrocious acts than females? Even the method of killing usually differs according to gender, with males using extreme physical violence, females employing more subtle methods like poison. Interestingly, the same goes for methods of suicide. As Christine posits at one point: “Something to do with hormones, I suppose.”

The Bad Seed is a classic. Not quite as good in execution as Arsenic and Old Lace, the Frank Capra film (released in 1944) adapted from Joseph Kesslering’s play, or as clever as Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window (1954), it nonetheless carries similar cultural freight and explores some of the same kinds of social mores juxtaposed against the criminally insane. I love how in The Bad Seed the audience can glimpse the social etiquette of the 1950s, when men knew to take their hats off indoors and hosts immediately offered drinks to their guests. It would be nice to see such etiquette and hospitality restored.

Meanwhile, be careful out there. There are a lot of crazies in the world, and evil is everywhere. In the words of Arthur Miller, attention must be paid.

Peace be with y'all. Knuckle up and guard your grills.