With the U.S. incarcerating more people than any other industrialized nation, it is not surprising that “the villain’s side of the story” has become a popular theme in entertainment media.
George Lucas’ last Star Wars trilogy tells the story of how love and loss transformed the Messiah-figure Anakin Skywalker from a galaxy’s hope into one of sci-fi’s most iconic villains, Darth Vader.
Vlad the Impaler (Dracula) impaled his way through Turkish troops in Dracula Untold, a film that delves beneath a macabre myth to produce a human story about a father protecting his son. On the CW’s new show i-Zombie, even zombies are airing their brain-eating side of the story.
Director Robert Stromberg’s Maleficent continues the trend of exploring monstrosity by telling the witch’s side of Sleeping Beauty.
Maleficent introduces the title character (played by Angelina Jolie) when she is a curious fairy child who falls in love with a human boy. The boy grows into the ambitious King Stefan (Sharlto Copley), who gains his kingship by trapping Maleficent and cutting off her wings. Driven by vengeance, Maleficent curses Stefan’s first-born child, Princess Aurora (Elle Fanning).
S.Q. Reviews gathers in the lot next to San Quentin’s Education Department. Rahsaan Thomas and Juan Meza are eager to talk about the monster’s side of Sleeping Beauty. They have spent their semester in Patten University’s prison program exploring monstrosity with volunteers Dr. Beatrice Kitzinger and Vera Shapirshteyn.
Thomas says, “We all read Sleeping Beauty and Snow White. We were regular kids, but something changed; we became criminals.”
DeWeaver nods. “It goes back to the theme that runs from Dracula Untold to Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Monsters aren’t born; they’re made.”
“Exactly,” Thomas says. “I’m not saying villainy is justified; it’s not, but it is understandable. And when we understand a thing, we can fix it.”
Meza objects to Maleficent’s characterization as a villain.
“For me, she’s nature,” says Meza. “The human king cut off her wings to possess her power like men try to possess and dominate nature. So I don’t think it was villainy. It’s more justifiable indignation against a perpetrator.”
“She cursed an innocent baby,” Thomas says. “Can’t call that justifiable.”
Meza waves his hands in negation. “The curse came from her father’s crimes, just as we inherit pollution’s curse from our fathers’ government policies.”
“Maleficent took the father’s crimes out on someone who’d done nothing to her,” Thomas says. “That’s villainy. When my brother was shot, I ran and left him. I felt hella’ shame for running. “And I hated the dude who shot my brother. I couldn’t cope. And for a lot of years, a lot of people who didn’t know me or my brother paid for what happened to me. That’s wrong.”
“There’s a lesson in Maleficent that I had to learn,” DeWeaver says. “Growing up, I felt life had screwed me, so I screwed it back. I told myself these stories to justify crime. I felt justified, feeling I was in the right, but right doesn’t mean anything if I’m perpetuating destructive cycles. Beginning any cycle might not have been my fault, but I could’ve chosen to end it, to step out of it.”
DeWeaver adds, “Maleficent is a fairy tale, so it ended happily. In real life, we have to be more diligent in breaking destructive cycles because true love’s kiss won’t wake us from the nightmares bad choices make.”
We rated Maleficent four dinner cookies for telling our stories.
Contributors: Emile DeWeaver, Rahsaan Thomas, Juan Meza and John Chiu.
