Evolution of True Crime Episode 1: Crimes of the Century

Some crimes are so shocking and controversial that they force us to examine who we are as a society. But with thousands of crimes committed daily, how does one particular crime become a cultural moment?

Welcome to WatchMojo’s series “The Evolution of True Crime”! For this episode, we’re looking at iconic crimes and their lives in the media.

We can define ‘crimes of the century’ through examples: The Black Dahlia, The Unabomber, the Casey Anthony trial. These sensational crime stories generate culture-wide discussions about the meaning of good and evil, truth, justice, and moral responsibility. A crime of the century is a story. And the way the media tells this story affects how we understand it, and in turn, how justice is executed.

Of course there have been highly publicized crimes throughout history: the Jack the Ripper murders; Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid’s famed robberies; the Lincoln assassination ... But the term “trial of the century” was first used in reference to the Lizzie Borden case of 1893. Borden was charged with the slaying of her father and stepmother in their shared home near Boston. The brutality of the act, rumors of a strained relationship between Lizzie and her stepmother, and the affluence of the family all placed this case at the forefront of crime convo. How could a fine young lady blast a hatchet through her parents’ heads, after all? Police misconduct, a botched investigation, and improperly documented evidence led to Borden’s acquittal, leaving her the “happiest woman in the world” - but not without swirling rumors and public speculation. To this day, Lizzie remains the prime suspect in this case.

Theories about her psychological state or motive have spiraled in the media for decades, ranging from fugue states to a relationship with her maid, or revenge for being asked to wash windows on a hot day. While the facts of that day have perhaps died with the victims and with Borden herself, legends surrounding this mystery - this justice unserved - endure well into the 21st century. Fact and fiction blend in imagination: is this a story of a feisty young woman seeking control of her house? A psychopath who walks calmly among the upper echelons of New England society? An elaborate ruse to cover sinister or socially upsetting truths? The story has taken on many lives in the media, casting the reality of events in different hues for the entertainment of consumers.

So what sets this crime apart? Why is this a “crime of the century”? Well, let’s look at the themes. Extreme violence, (allegedly) committed by an atypical perpetrator (an affluent young woman), involving members of the upper class; violent crime in a quiet neighborhood; police misconduct; and explosive legal results deemed contentious by the court of public opinion. It’s mystifying, and shocking. Other infamous cases also touch on these same themes: think the Lindbergh kidnapping, the O.J. Simpson murder trial, and the wrongful conviction of Amanda Knox. Again with these cases, there is a difference between the core facts, the “legal truth”, and the narrative webs woven by the media.

But all crime stories are not covered equally, and this can be attributed to a range of factors. For one, cameras were not always allowed in courtrooms. After Bruno Hauptmann (the Lindbergh kidnapper) appealed his case in 1935, alleging that aggressive media coverage had poisoned his jury against him, state legislation was amended to restrict photography in courtrooms. While the judge dismissed Hauptmann’s claim – he did raise a good point. The way evidence and the accused are presented can manipulate their significance to those who perceive them. This is true in both trials and in the media.

After Hauptmann, many, but not all, states banned live broadcasting altogether. But these restrictions effectively ended in 1981, after a case in Florida (where filming was permitted) saw two police officers charged with burglary argue that live coverage of their case would deny them a fair trial. The case went to the Supreme Court, which ultimately found that the Constitution does not block broadcasting in courtrooms, and the risk of jurors being influenced does not provide enough grounds to ban courtroom broadcasting. This ruling allowed states more freedom to experiment with filming and broadcasting trials live.

While this legal history may seem a bit dry, it’s important because it effectively created a whole new genre of true crime going into the 80s and 90s: gavel-to-gavel broadcasting; trials on TV.

We see this first in the 1987 trial of Joel Steinberg, a disbarred lawyer, and his wife Hedda Nussbaum, charged with the murder of their illegally adopted daughter. Nussbaum received legal immunity for her testimony, the defense arguing that her complicity in the murder was the result of “battered woman syndrome”. This is a highly emotional case, which brought issues of domestic violence and criminal responsibility to the forefront of public discourse. Additionally, the characters involved are successful, educated people; the drama of the story plays off of the disparity between their bright image and their secret horrors. And most significantly, it centers on the tragic, senseless death of a child.

The case created a media frenzy, and stemming from this “gavel-to-gavel” phenomenon we see many similar high-profile trials broadcast this way in the 80s and 90s. Pamela Smart, the highschool teacher who had four students murder her husband in the early 90s is one example. CourtTV was launched in 1991 and focussed on live courtroom footage with commentary by anchors. The channel rose to prominence with their coverage of the trials of Lyle and Erik Menéndez in 1994, convicted of killing their parents, and then the O.J. Simpson trial the following year.

Of course we can’t talk about crimes of the century without talking about the O.J. phenomenon. This is a MAJOR turning point for true crime. From the infamous Bronco chase to “if the glove doesn't fit, you must acquit”, this story made true crime radically mainstream - no longer a niche mystery sub-genre. The viral moments from this case, the clash of characters, his curated celebrity image versus the portrait painted by the prosecution took on a new life on screens around the world. In fact, more people watched the Bronco chase than the Super Bowl that year. And when the trial’s verdict was broadcast live on TV, over 150 million people tuned in: in other words, about 57% of the American population. The stranger-than-fiction true crime saga was beyond a sensation in its time. And beyond the veneer of a celebrity ‘whodunnit’, the trial spoke to larger issues of race and class within the justice system, and brought these questions into mainstream discourse.

During the trial, scheduled broadcasts were cut to feature coverage of O.J.-related affairs, and while viewers initially expressed annoyance, over time we see significant overlap between soap opera viewership and viewership of live trials. This is interesting because in many ways, the Simpson trial set the stage for this crossing of genres: the TV drama and true crime documentary, blending fiction and non-fiction. Because what followed that decade and into today, are new directions of true crime that lean away from previous genre conventions like reenactment and detective stories, into formats that effectively combined dramas written for TV with the purported objectivity of live footage - offering the depth of fact in the dressing of a soap opera. Public interest in the Simpson trial created a legacy for the coverage of other high-profile crimes well into the 21st century, and significantly, established a public appetite for these types of stories.

One direction we can trace this shift is the emergence of reality court shows like “Judge Judy”, “Divorce Court”, and “The People’s Court” (revived in 1997). These shows feature (comparatively) banal legal cases, presented with personal drama and characterizations woven in. While the cases are “real”, and characters are “non-actors”, these shows are cast and cut to make exciting TV.

In addition to starting this new wave, the O.J. trial also had an educational impact on the American public. The immense coverage of this “trial of the century” led to much greater awareness and understanding of how the legal system actually works, and educated audiences about its jargon and proceedings. So the target demographic for this type of content was geared up and ready to go. The post-O.J. wave of courtroom reality TV reproduced a few key elements of that live trial viewing experience: namely, an organic “whodunnit” structure that audiences could anticipate; judges and participants cast for their charisma and entertainment value; and at the end of every segment, a verdict.

But the issues unpacked in these shows are not focused on celebrity murders, car chases (however slow), or explosively controversial evidence. These shows look mostly at divorce and custody issues, property law, small claims. We said before that “not all crimes are covered equally”, and this remains true. THESE are not “crimes of the century”. But this wave of genre TV is just one example of the impact a “trial of the century” can have. The Simpson trial changed the landscape of an entire medium and created massive public awareness of the justice system. And perhaps most importantly, it highlighted how the media is an industry that must always work to replicate its own success. It goes both ways: our hunger for this type of media pushes content creators to make more of it, which creates a broad landscape of constant crime coverage … which distorts our impression of real life crime and its prevalence.

There is also evidence to suggest that the Simpson trial increased public appetite for the relatively new 24 hour news cycle. CNN launched in 1980, but its ratings increased 500% over the course of the trial, viewers seeking constant updates. In their ordinary lives, most people seldom interact with crime, mostly learning about major events and statistics through the media. 24-hour coverage of true crimes, trials, and even fictional crime dramas creates an exaggerated impression of its prevalence in real life. For example, in the 90s we see a sharp uptick in media coverage of crime overall, while actual crime was in decline across the United States. While shows like “Cops” or “People’s Court”, and much daily news coverage, are not about crimes of the century, we can see how a major case like the O.J. Simpson trial can send ripples through our media landscape and in turn affect our perception of the justice system and crime itself.

So why does any of this matter? Well, just as fact and narrative blend in the courtroom to determine legal truth, the same dynamic plays out in the ways that media controls these stories, on both sides of the political spectrum. This is not a big conspiracy theory about indoctrination, it’s about looking at the bigger picture - beyond CNN, beyond “COPS”, beyond O.J. Simpson.

And even if no one is sitting watching three hours of live trials every day, the larger landscape of crime media creates a slanted impression of the pervasiveness of crime; who commits it, and how it affects the day-to-day lives of its viewership. These impressions play into peoples’ feelings about the effectiveness of the criminal justice system, as well as political questions about the death penalty, sentencing, and police funding - because crimes of the century are not isolated events, but are connected to the biggest questions of the culture at that moment. We can see how the Harvey Weinstein scandal contributed to the rise of #MeToo and cancel or accountability culture. Derek Chauvin’s murder trial spoke to deep historical issues of race and police brutality, and how the justice system repeatedly fails people of color.

A crime becomes a Crime of the Century because of the questions it raises. Who are we? How do we define good and evil? How do we define justice? How do we make our society a better place? But as we chew on these heavy-hitters, we also need to keep in mind that there is a difference between “the truth” and what we see on TV.