Television

Is 'The Alienist' a Critique of Capitalism or a Pro-Neoliberal Narrative?

(screengrab from TNT's The Alienist opening title sequence)

Author Caleb Carr's The Alienist explores the 19th century psychiatric debate between free will and determinism. TNT's nearly identical adaptation of the novel, however, comes up with a completely different conclusion.

The Alienist
Caleb Carr

Random House

October 2006 (reprint)

Other
The Alienist

TNT

21 January - 26 March 2018

Other

The opening title sequence of TNT's The Alienist was nominated for an Emmy in 2018. With its haunting musical score and graphic visuals of New York City's urban landscape intercut with the main characters' faces in various stages of construction and decay, the Emmy nomination is justified. But the title sequence is more than just aesthetics: the juxtaposition between the city and the characters establishes The Alienist's central tension and theme.

Here's where it gets interesting. TNT's The Alienist is an adaptation of Caleb Carr's 1994 novel of the same name, and both the show and the novel meditate on the same social issues. However, though both renditions of the story are asking the same questions, they come to exactly opposite answers.

Set in 1896 New York City, The Alienist is the story of Laszlo Kreizler a psychologist-turned-detective, who uses 19th century psychology to track a serial killer of young boys. Like Jonathan Groff's Holden Ford in Netflix's Mindhunter, Kreizler creates a psychological profile of the killer through a blend of cutting-edge psychology and detective work.

Carr's novel is a period-piece detective story brimming with vivid historical detail and personas. His most thorough recreation, though, is of the psychological theories of the late 19th century. The novel's central tension hinges on the debates between proponents of determinism and of free will. Kreizler champions social and psychological determinism (the idea that people are products of their social context, early childhood experiences, and biological makeup), while his Harvard professor William James argues for a theory of free will (the idea that people have the ability to choose their actions freely at any given moment). Though oversimplified, Carr successfully uses these competing theories to establish his real purpose: a critique of the American social system.

Hand in Water by TheDigital Artist (Pixabay License / Pixabay)

John Moore, the novel's narrator and Kreizler's old college chum, sums up the stakes of these two competing psychological theories. While watching a fictionalized debate between Kreizler and James, Moore is torn "between loyalty to [Kreizler] whose beliefs had always made [Moore] uneasy and enthusiasm for [James] and a philosophy that seemed to offer the promise of limitless possibilities for not only [Moore's] but every man's future" (47). Moore puts his finger on the novel's cutting social critique: Kreizler's social determinism makes Moore uneasy because it lays the responsibility—say, for the brutal murders of young boys—at the feet of the society that creates the individuals, while James's free will maintains that responsibility lies with individual actors.

And Moore is not the only one who is uneasy. New York's social elite actively obstruct Kreizler's investigation, though not for the clichéd purpose of protecting one of their own (the TV show's red herring is that the killer is a spoiled adult-child of an upper-class family), but because they fear the implications of Kreizler's social determinism. If he proves that systemic corruption and social inequality create a society capable of producing brutal child murderers, the social status quo—this theory suggests—would have to change. Hired by the elite to do their dirty work, the corrupt ex-chief of police spouts off a fiery but revealing tirade against Kreizler and his ideas: "Rank determinism…speaks against freedom, against responsibility! Yes, I say it is un-American!" (301).

"Un-American"—there's the rub. On the surface, the novel is about a psychologist-detective tracking down a serial killer, but just beneath the surface lurks a narrative that probes the culpability of an American capitalist system for its role in the crimes committed by those oppressed under the ideology of the "American Dream". More than a simple tug of the proverbial bootstraps is needed to address the issues underpinning systemic inequality. Carr takes to task American capitalism and neoliberalism. The Alienist's antagonist is not the serial killer -- society itself. The murderer is but a symptom; the social system that perpetuates gross inequality and inhumanity is the disease.

TNT's The Alienist takes a different approach, however: the show keeps the novel's plot intact while completely reversing its social criticism.

Luke Evans as John Moore, Daniel Brühl as Laszlo Kreizler, and Stephen Louis Grush as Jesse Pomeroy (IMDB)

Consider the following scene, entirely original to the show, from Episode 5, "Hildebrandt's Starling". Kreizler (Daniel Brühl) consults an old psychology professor (not James, but David Warner's Professor Cavanaugh) for assistance in overcoming his biases toward the case. The professor recalls Kreizler's first college examination in which he was required to describe a starling. After several attempts, each of which the professor deems incomplete, Kreizler spends three days examining the bird, at which point "the poor thing began to molt." It was then that Kreizler had finally "seen" his bird, the professor claims.

Part of this exchange is about reminding Kreizler to value method over conclusions, which helps him get back on the killer's trail. But there is another important component at play: time. Echoing the images of construction and decay in the opening credits, the bird begins to molt—to change—over the course of the examination. The bird, like a human being, is not a static object that can be assessed once and for all; living beings require continual examination because, over time, they change.

Luke Evans as John Moore and Dakota Fanning as Sara Howard in "Hildebrandt's Starling" episode (© TNT / IMDB)

Like the bird, the characters in the show change over time as well. But they change through personal exertions of free will. Moore (Luke Evans), a heavy drinker, white knuckles through his alcoholism in order to prove his marriageability to Sara Howard (Dakota Fanning). Kreizler's housekeeper and eventual love interest, Mary (Q'orianka Kilcher), who in her youth set her father on fire as revenge for repeated sexual abuse, proves through her years of dutiful service to Kreizler that she is a changed woman.

In the final episode of the series, Kreizler and Sara reveal to each other the secrets of their past, secrets that continue to torment them in adulthood. Rather than being a congenital defect (like it is in the novel), Kreizler's underdeveloped arm is the result of a violent outburst by his abusive father. Sara reveals that she assisted her father in killing himself after his botched suicide attempt. In response to these revelations, Sara tells Kreizler that they must use the memory of their pain to help others, instead of allowing their pasts to haunt them (a watered-down description of determinism). If everyone was determined by their childhood trauma, she states, "we'd all be murderers."

This prompts the concluding scene in the series in the "Castle in the Sky" episode, just before the final credits roll. Kreizler visits his ailing father (Tim Barlow) in order to make amends. Despite his father's perennial maxim that "[n]ature never allows a man to be more than he is. Only less," Kreizler now believes, after the events of the series, that "we can be better than nature intended."

Better than nature intended. This is the sentiment that concludes the TV series.

The idea that an individual could be better than nature intended would be, if you'll forgive the pun, alien to the Kreizler of the novel, to say the least.

Carr's novel contains a pointed critique of systemic inequality. It depicts a power and class conflict through competing psychological theories of social and individual responsibility for one's actions, bringing to the fore a social hypocrisy that usually remains behind closed doors.

TNT's reimagining of The Alienist papers over this critique with a neoliberal narrative that shifts responsibility from society to the individual.

I'll end on an example: After the killer is apprehended, Kreizler dissects the killer's brain in search of anatomical abnormalities that might explain his violent behavior. This occurs in both the novel and the show. In both, the brain is found to be perfectly normal. The Kreizler of the novel concludes that the healthy brain "indicates that [his theory of determinism] was right" (Carr 481). In the show, the exact same evidence leads to exact opposite conclusion. The Kreizler of the show states the healthy brain "proves we don't know anything. God works between the lines."

God works between the lines? This is an extremely uncharacteristic statement, even for the show's reimagining of Laszlo Kreizler, because Kreizler is a staunch and outspoken atheist and refuses to concede anything to a higher power.

This moment of confusion is emblematic of the show's ultimate failing: its neoliberal revision of the source material turns all deviant action into a moral failing on the part of individual actors, refusing to acknowledge the political and economic underpinnings of social life or hold accountable the people with the most power.

Ultimately, The Alienist dramatizes the struggle over who controls the narrative of responsibility, and TNT's adaptation makes it clear who is winning.

Music


Books


Film


Recent
Music

Man Alive! Is a Continued Display of the Grimy-Yet-Refined Magnetism of King Krule

Following The OOZ and its accolades, King Krule crafts a similarly hazy gem with Man Alive! that digs into his distinct aesthetic rather than forges new ground.

Books

The Kinks and Their Bad-Mannered English Decency

Mark Doyles biography of the Kinks might complement a seminar in British culture. Its tone and research prove its intent to articulate social critique through music for the masses.

Music

ONO Confronts American Racial Oppression with the Incendiary 'Red Summer'

Decades after their initial formation, legendary experimentalists ONO have made an album that's topical, vital, uncomfortable, and cathartic. Red Summer is an essential documentation of the ugliness and oppression of the United States.

Film

Silent Women Filmmakers No Longer So Silent: Alice Guy Blaché and Julia Crawford Ivers

The works of silent filmmakers Alice Guy Blaché and Julia Crawford Ivers were at risk of being forever lost. Kino Lorber offers their works on Blu-Ray. Three cheers for film historians and film restoration.

Music

Rush's 'Permanent Waves' Endures with Faultless Commercial Complexity

Forty years later, Rush's ability to strike a nearly perfect balance between mainstream invitingness and exclusory complexity is even more evident and remarkable. The progressive rock classic, Permanent Waves, is celebrating its 40th anniversary.

Music

Drum Machines? Samples? Brendan Benson Gets Contemporary with 'Dear Life'

Powerpop overlord and part-time Raconteur, Brendan Benson, grafts hip-hop beats to guitar pop on his seventh solo album, Dear Life.

Music

'Sell You Everything' Brings to Light Buzzcocks '1991 Demo LP' That Passed Under-the-Radar

Cherry Red Records' new box-set issued in memory of Pete Shelley gathers together the entire post-reunion output of the legendary Buzzcocks. Across the next week, PopMatters explores the set album-by-album. First up is The 1991 Demo LP.

Music

10 Key Tracks From the British Synthpop Boom of 1980

It's 40 years since the first explosion of electronic songs revitalized the UK charts with futuristic subject matter, DIY aesthetics, and occasionally pompous lyrics. To celebrate, here's a chronological list of those Moog-infused tracks of 1980 that had the biggest impact.

Reading Pandemics

Poe, Pandemic, and Underlying Conditions

To read Edgar Allan Poe in the time of pandemic, we need to appreciate a very different aspect of his perspective—not that of a mimetic artist but of the political economist.

Books

'Yours, Jean' Is a Perfect Mixture of Tragedy, Repressed Desire, and Poor Impulse Control

Lee Martin's Yours, Jean is a perfectly balanced and heartbreaking mix of true crime narrative and literary fiction.

Music

The 60 Best Albums of 2007

From tech house to Radiohead and Americana to indie and everything in between, the 60 best albums of 2007 included many of the 2000s' best albums.

Love in the Time of Coronavirus

Solitude Stands in the Window: Thoreau's 'Walden'

Henry David Thoreau's Walden as a 19th century model for 21st century COVID-19 quarantine.

Reviews
Collapse Expand Reviews

Features
Collapse Expand Features
PM Picks
Collapse Expand Pm Picks

© 1999-2020 PopMatters.com. All rights reserved.
PopMatters is wholly independent, women-owned and operated.