Where It All Goes Down
The Courtroom, the Slammer, and the 'Hood
The Courtroom
Close your eyes and picture the setting of Kris Kringle's trial in Miracle on 34th Street. Haven't seen it? How about To Kill a Mockingbird? The Pelican Brief ? Runaway Jury? Legally Blonde? The point is that there are plenty of opportunities to see the inside of a courtroom in popular media.
Steve's screenplay, Monster, is no exception. Though not a major motion picture, it primarily takes place in this familiar pop culture location, complete with judge's bench, witness stand, prosecution table, defense table, and jury seats. The room is decorated with a painting of George Washington, an American flag, and the New York state flag. (Want to know more about why these decorations are so important? Check out the "Symbols" section.) This setting lends a seriousness to the story that's unfolding, reminding Steve—and us as readers—constantly that what happens in this room will make a large impact.
In the courtroom, Steve's emotions run the full spectrum. He is nervous to testify but relieved by some of the testimonies other people give; when a jury member refuses to look at him, he's crushed; and when he hears his Not Guilty verdict, he's elated.
The courtroom may be a place of justice, but the quest for it includes plenty of drama.
The Slammer
It sure ain't pretty in here. If someone's not bustin' someone else up, then they're threatening to—it's a place full of violence and betrayal and fear and monster-men.
The men in prison horrify Steve. Inmates start fights and use violence to establish themselves, but Steve pulls away from this scene. While he realizes that weakness is dangerous, he's terrified of using brutality as strength. Whereas one of the jailbirds wants to tattoo monster on his forehead, Steve struggles endlessly with this label. All Steve wants to do is escape the cruelty and hang with his little brother, watching superhero movies, but he struggles to believe that he is any different from the other people in jail—despite his distaste for violence.
If you haven't checked out the "Symbols" section, hop on over there and read about the symbol of "Monster" now. Got it? Good. Steve is terrified that, deep down, he is just like the other prisoners. When they're all mopping in their orange jumpsuits, he realizes that he looks just like them, and it makes him want to toss his cookies. He wracks his brain to figure out the decisions he made that landed him in the joint, because he wants to know that he's a good person. But he can't help but remember that, back in the day, he wanted to be like the hoodlums. Jail reminds him of his failures and weaknesses of character.
The physical violence and Steve's emotional turmoil make jail a pretty rotten place to be.
The 'Hood
There is a small tricycle on the sidewalk. It is missing one wheel. The garbage cans at the curb are overflowing. Three young girls jump rope near the trash. (4.19)
That there paints a picture of our boy Steve's neighborhood—dirty, poor, and discarded. Yet living amidst these neglected streets are kids, innocents, and hard-working people who work hard to rub a few nickels together.
Steve wants to be a tough guy, like the thugs he sees on a regular basis swaggering through the neighborhood and acting like they have all the answers. Steve's a perfect target—caught between childhood and adulthood, between hope for a better future and despair. Turns out being caught in the middle means you're easier to break.