At their worst, the four documentaries that have examined the tragic case of the West Memphis Three have felt like the work of master ironists. Telling the story of three Arkansas teens convicted of child murders just because two of them wore black and had an interest in the occult, the filmmakers have again and again fought against the very public railroading of Damien Echols, Jason Baldwin, and Jessie Misskelley by holding up other West Memphis, Arkansas, misfits as likelier culprits, in effect riposting the small town presumption that outcast kids must be wicked with the coastal presumption that one of those self-righteous rednecks must be. All credit is due to the filmmakers for fighting for these kids, ultimately helping free them from prison and, in Echols's case, death row. But ...