ON THE JEWISH calendar, today is Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. It marks the culmination of the Days of Awe, the solemn period of introspection that began 10 days ago on Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. Like many Jews, I have been thinking about the themes of this season — repentance and forgiveness, wrongdoing and reconciliation.
I have also been thinking about Johnny Depp.
Johnny Depp stars as serial killer James "Whitey" Bulger in the 2015 film "Black Mass."
"There's a kind heart in there," he said. "There's a cold heart in there. There's a man who loves. There's a man who cries. There's a lot to the man."
Bulger was convicted in 2013 of involvement in at least 11 murders and numerous other crimes; he is now in federal prison serving two life sentences. But Depp said his priority as an actor "was to understand him first and foremost as a human being." He described Bulger as "a man of honor" toward those he loved, and rejected the notion that he was innately wicked. "Everybody, especially the families of his victims, could say: 'He's just an evil person.' I don't believe that exists," Depp said. "People have their humanity.... There's a side of James Bulger who is not just that man who was in that business."
Depp's comments understandably offended many, especially those whose loved ones suffered from Bulger's brutality. To be sure, the Hollywood star was talking about his technique as an actor and his approach to the role of a notorious monster. Perhaps some of his remarks should have been saved for an acting class rather than the red carpet. Perhaps some — like how he was "kind of glad" that Bulger had evaded capture for so many years — shouldn't have been said at all.
Nevertheless, Depp is right: Bulger must not be seen as wholly evil, devoid of any grain of goodness. That is a crucial moral point, regardless of acting style and character preparation. "Surely there is not a righteous man on earth who does good and never sins," declares Ecclesiastes. The opposite is equally true: No one is absolutely evil, incapable of behaving with kindness or decency. Not Whitey Bulger. Not Charles Manson. Not Jeffrey Dahmer. Not the worst murderer or rapist or torturer.
Not even Hitler or Stalin or Pol Pot.
To insist that even the most depraved criminals are human beings is not to downplay their depravity or to minimize their evil deeds. On the contrary: It is to affirm their responsibility for the damage they wreak and the pain they inflict. It is to underscore that they are morally responsible agents endowed by God with free will. They decide how to use that freedom. And they, like all of us, are answerable for their decisions.
Men and women are not cancer cells or rattlesnakes or tidal waves, killing and destroying willy-nilly. We are not robots, programmed genetically to be good or bad, honest or crooked, kind or cruel. We choose. And our choices have consequences.
Bulger wasn't hard-wired to lie or steal and murder. Every time he did so, he chose to do so. For proof, look no farther than all the times he could have lied or stolen or murdered, but elected not to.
"We must believe in free will; we have no choice," exclaimed the novelist Isaac Bashevis Singer. In that seeming paradox lies the essence of our humanity. It isn't DNA or economics or the stars that determines character. We determine it. Without freedom, there could be no saints or sinners, only automatons.
Bulger was no automaton. None of us is. We are born neither righteous nor monstrous, but free to be either one. Among all the Earth's creatures, only we have the power to act differently tomorrow than we acted yesterday. That is why we can always aspire to be better, and repent when we have been worse.
(Jeff Jacoby is a columnist for The Boston Globe).
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