Louis Theroux’s America’s Most Hated Family in Crisis

Having never been privy to his previous work, I set about to do some background research of documentary film-maker Louis Theroux; and I discovered he had made a credible name for himself by attempting to understand fringe communities:  shunned, condemned to  the side-lines of mainstream society.

The son of American travel writer and novelist Paul Theroux, has cozied up to porn stars,  trudged through the controversial world of swingers and has convincingly absorbed himself into the world of black nationalists, to name a few adventures.

In this documentary, he re-visits an American family embroiled in controversy, owing to their extreme, bizarre beliefs on homosexuality and their unpatriotic attitude.  Under the tutelage of surly acerbic leader Fred Phelps, the Westboro Baptist church has stepped up to more daring actions and has grown their public profile, despite their diminishing numbers.

 In the previous instalment , Theroux attempted to coax insight out of the peevish leader, but Phelps brutally chided Theroux for what he termed ‘stupid questions’ and refused to elaborate on his beliefs.

The church is made up entirely of the Phelps family and the day-to-day running is left to Phelps’ daughter, Shirley, who is mother to 11 children. One of their trademark actions was to picket outside the funerals of Iraq soldiers, aggressively reminding the families of the bereaved that their loved ones died because they were fighting for a nation that condones homosexuals. Death, the church says, is God’s punishment for wayward beliefs.

The documentary begins by capturing members of the church picketing at a busy intersection draped in shirts that convey the basic message of the church: ‘God Hates Fags’. But they are challenged by another crowd stationed across the protesters that yell obscenities at the church, the mildest being ‘Go back to Kansas, you a**holes!’

Theroux returns to the headquarters of the church where it is revealed that there have been a few defections from the church and he also discovers that the Church now believes that president Barack Obama is the anti-Christ.  And as Shirley fully explains “he just fits all the descriptors.”

About all the people leaving, Shirley assures Louis that ‘every person that goes leaves with a heavy burden.’

The most enthralling part of the doccie for me was Theroux’s telling conversation with Lauren Phelps, a family member who has been expunged, who now betrays the doctrine she believed so strongly four years ago. The transformation from the young girl who believed having a boyfriend was perverted; to a more confident woman whose face is decorated with a rebellious piercing is extraordinary.

But when she confides in Theroux about leaving the family because she was corresponding with someone online, even her hard exterior cannot detract from the pain laced in her voice. She is just a young girl who misses her family and is saddened by the reality that she may never see them again.

‘Some people lose their parents to cancer, or car accidents or other things. I’ve lost my parents to a cult,’ Lauren says with a heavy-laden voice.

While it certainly is interesting watching the Phelps trip clumsily on their own beliefs, what kept nibbling at me was the overwhelming desire for humans to think that they are special and want to feel like the chosen ones. We all do it, while not as extremely as the Phelps.

People always like to believe they are the exception and this is expressed none too clearly with the Phelps’. If you’re a homosexual, or tolerate homosexuals, and you’re not one of us you’re going to hell.

IF CREDIT WAS A HARRY POTTER CHARACTER….

For those of you deprived of the magic of the Harry Potter series, wonderfully penned by British author J.K Rowling, the basic premise of this epic tale is the classic good guy (harry) versus bad guy (Lord Voldemort).

But, I’m afraid, this simple explanation betrays the unforgettable twists and turns and memorable characters that made this amazing story imprint itself on my heart for over a decade.

But the main thing that weaves the story together is magic. Wands, potions, broomsticks, witches, wizards and goblins; this book is filled with all of it.

Reminds me of our own magic we have created in the real world: credit. That supernatural being that promises you whatever you want right now, but you don’t have to pay for it right now! And when you do finally get around to paying, you are allowed to pay in bits and pieces. Perfect.

But, as with most great villains, they operate under a veil of secrecy and deception. They are never what they seem; they always hide their true intentions and the greater they are at hiding them, the graver the consequences for the target.

Enter Credit: the offspring of an evil man with a horribly hooked nose that could not be removed no matter how hard they tried and disgustingly long toenails. Credit’s mother was a bitter ageing gymnast who never realised her Olympic dreams and instead in her old age was saddled with horribly brittle bones.

Credit did not enjoy his childhood. He had no friends, owing to the hooked nose he inherited from his father coupled with an enormous head he tried to hide under even bigger hats. Being short did not help Credit’s position.

When his parents died, doctors said it was a car crash but Credit knew that they killed themselves. He received a sizeable chunk of money and stayed in an orphanage. One day, after manipulating one of the House mothers at the orphanage, he managed to get himself a toy car.Not just any toy car either, the toy car that every boy in the orphanage was dying to have.

He enjoyed the popularity the car brought him as everyone asked to borrow it, even though it had to be played with under his supervision. One weak boy in particular, became extremely infatuated with the object. He borrowed it every chance he got for the next two weeks.

As the excitement of the toy faded and Credit’s popularity began to wane, he started to get bored with it and started to look for something else.

But the weak boy continued to play with the car, day after day. Eventually, cunning credit had an idea. He went to the weak boy, ostentatiously carrying the car and said: “I’ve seen how much you love this toy car. I’ll sell it to you.”

The weak boy was instantly filled with euphoria, but it was dampened by the reminder that he had very little pocket money left.

“Okay,” Credit said. “You can pay me back late. Just give me what you’ve got for now.”

The weak boy gave Credit the little money he had and as Credit grabbed the coins, he was filled with an unexplainable power. For him, it was like magic. The wonderful sensation he felt when he took other people’s money, even though he didn’t really need it, was indescribable.

Over the next few months, every time the weak boy received his pocket money, Credit would greedily be lurking in the halls waiting for his cut. Credit enjoyed the crestfallen look on the weak boy every time they met.

After a while, the weak boy fell out of love with the toy car he had been so enamoured with, but he still had to pay back Credit in full. No matter what plans his friends made, he couldn't afford it so he stayed home. He missed a trip to the fair where one of his friends fell out of a ride and broke his arm, he couldn't afford to buy a ticket to see his favourite music group when they came to town and eventually weak boy became a recluse because anything he was invited to, he didn't go.
He knew he couldn’t do anything until he paid Credit back. He was miserable.

Credit, on the other hand, was ecstatic. He had found his calling; and he knew that from that moment on, his calling in life was to steal the futures of as many people as he could.

Credit knew that there were less people who used money to serve themselves, but instead, chose to serve money.Credit never fell in love, and he never had any family and friends.

If he was a harry potter character, he would be worse than Lord Voldemort.

And that’s really evil.