The Spring 2015 escape by
two worst-of-the-worst prisoners from the Clinton Correctional Facility (CCF) in
Dannemora, N.Y., resulted in the largest manhunt in New York State history and
the biggest domestic news story of the year. For three weeks America held its
collective breath, as the narrative unfolded to its inevitable, violent
conclusion. But even after it did, even after the players were no longer in
motion, the tale retained its journalistic legs, largely because of its many
angles:
—the
brutal and depraved crimes that Richard Matt and David Sweat committed to be
caged in a maximum security prison to begin with,
—the
complacency and arrogance within the prison that allowed the escapees to gather
key intelligence,
—the
complementary skills of the prisoners, how they became a two-headed escape
monster accomplishing an extraordinary feat,
—tales
of the frightened public, who went without sleep, and when they did nod off it
was with a shotgun ’cross their laps,
—tales
of the 1,200 manhunters, the stalwart members of law enforcement, who scoured
the harshest of wilderness for weeks on end in relentlessly inclement weather,
praying they would catch the men before innocents were hurt,
—the
budget cuts by the State of New York that impacted the case, and
—Joyce “Tillie” Mitchell, the sad sack of
a woman who allowed herself to be used by the escapees, giving them the tools
they would need to cut their way out of the beast’s belly, in exchange for
flirtation, fantasy, and a modicum of tawdry prison sex.
Guess
which facet of the story became the focus of Lifetime’s TV movie? No surprise. It was Tillie, star of the show,
with her Walter Mitty fantasy life and muttonhead excuses. The mother of three
was called “Shawskank” on the front
page of the New York Post. Her anemic
attempts to explain her unexplainable behavior were meant to be damage control,
but brought only the wrath of the public.
So here comes the TV movie, New York Prison Break: The Seduction of Joyce Mitchell, written and
directed by Stephen Tolkin, which debuted on April 23 in the crucial Sunday
prime-time slot.
The
movie gets a lot of things right. We briefly see Matt and Sweat’s brutality, and
we feel the relaxed relationship between CCF’s prisoners and corrections
officers that blurs their adversarial roles. The tunneling out and escape
itself are presented in detail and with surprising accuracy.
It’s
made clear that Mitchell’s carnal misadventures with Matt and Sweat were
perfectly in character. Life for her was a daytime serial, from her young and restless
schooldays to “As the Cell Block Turns” in adulthood. Her husband Lyle (Daniel
Roebeck), a painfully dull but affable chatterbox, was the lover-on-the-side
that broke up Joyce’s first marriage.
The
manhunt and the effect of the escape on the Adirondack area are all but missing
in the movie, leaving lots of room for clothes-on sex scenes featuring a lonely
and bored fifty-something woman getting hot and bothered over sweet-talking dirtbags.
The backroom intimacy portrayed is more than cringe-worthy. It’s
crawl-out-of-your-skin worthy. But that’s prison sex in a nutshell, I’m
guessing.
Nobody
asked me, but I gave New York Prison
Break two and a half stars. It’s corny and melodramatic, but has a so-bad-it’s-good
appeal—and I liked the movie better than I thought I would. Myk Watford as Matt
and Joe Anderson as Sweat capture the superficial charm of these sociopaths,
and Penelope Ann Miller gives Tillie an animation that may lack realism but
improves watchability.
But
I know one fellow certain to give New
York Prison Break: The Seduction of Joyce Mitchell a rave review, two
urgent thumbs up: New York State Governor Andrew Cuomo. He has to be ecstatic
that the Lifetime movie never once touches upon one key factor
that made the escape possible. Because of Albany’s penny-wise pound-foolish budget
cuts, the superintendents of New York State prisons were not allowed to
lockdown their facilities without an okay from an Albany beancounter. Days
before the Clinton escape, a gang fight erupted on the prison grounds and the
CCF superintendent wanted to declare a lockdown—but Albany said no. Too
expensive. The lockdown would have resulted in a thorough search of every cell
in the facility, exposing the fact that Sweat and Matt were singing the Credence
song: DOO DOO DOO Lookin’ Out My Backdoor
about their own self-made rear exits, back doors that would, within the week,
lead them to an impressive but temporary freedom.
Michael Benson is the author of ESCAPE FROM DANNEMORA: Richard Matt, David Sweat, and the Great Adirondack Manhunt
(ForeEdge), as well as Why the Grateful Dead Matter (ForeEdge) and The Devil at Genesee Junction (Rowman & Littlefield).
