Strong Conviction a Moving Legalistic Drama
Tony Goldwyn’s (The Last Kiss, A Walk on the Moon) latest drama Conviction is as old school and as familiar as they come. Based on real events, it is the story of Better Ann Waters (Hilary Swank), a Massachusetts woman who after her brother Kenny (Sam Rockwell) is wrongfully convicted of murder puts herself through High School, college in law school in order to prove his innocence all while raising her two boys. It’s very matter-of-fact and straight forward, not pulling any punches but not doing anything all that out of the ordinary, either.
Hilary Swank and Sam Rockwell in Conviction © Fox Searchlight
And that’s perfectly fine with me. Once Pamela Gray’s (Music of the Heart) screenplay gets into the homestretch I was perfectly mesmerized by everything playing out onscreen. I wanted to see Betty succeed, needed Kenny to be pronounced innocent, and even though I knew the outcome was inevitable the ball of tension coiling ever tighter in my stomach would suggest the very opposite. Goldwyn refuses to overplay his hand, refuses to give into pap sentimentality that would drown the emotion oozing from the screen, and as such the film comes to a suitably rousing conclusion that earned my tears honestly.
I will admit for a while there I was a little worried I wasn’t going to be drawn into the picture as fully as I ultimately was. While Goldwyn and Gray attempt to play with the narrative a bit by moving back and forth through time, showing Betty and Kenny as kids, showing the absence of any sort of parental role models, showing how their sibling bond was stronger than that with their respective matrimonial partners, this device tends to be more tiring than it is insightful. I didn’t really learn anything about the two of them that isn’t clear almost right from the start, and part of me could help but wish the filmmakers had spent more time focusing on the single mom’s struggles to get through school while raising her children.
Yet the central story remains a kicker. For almost two decades she fought, bettered herself in a single-minded pursuit to overcome what she believes deep down into her very core was a grave miscarriage of justice. It’s another case where truth is far stranger, and in this instance definitely more inspiring, than fiction, Betty doing something the majority of can’t even fathom let alone believe we’d be able to something similar.
Swank knocks it out of the park. There is a strength and an inner tenacity to her performance that palpably resonates. Even when the script resorts to shorthand in order to tell her story there is something about the actress that remains fiery and ferocious. Yet at the same time she also is extremely human, showing vulnerabilities and weaknesses that make her intimately relatable. She’s very nearly at her best here, and while I wouldn’t put this performance in the same ballpark as her Oscar winning ones for Million Dollar Baby or Boys Don’t Cry it’s definitely in the upper echelons of the ones she’s delivered in her career.
The rest of the cast doesn’t have near as much to work with. Rockwell may have a lot of awards buzz going for him right now but honestly he doesn’t get all that much to do, and while his performance rises to his usual high standards I can’t say he was the one I was thinking the most about when I left the theatre. Same goes for Melissa Leo playing the defacto villain of the piece, a Massachusetts’ police officer who for whatever reason has it out for Kenny. She’s strictly one-dimensional, and while she’s good in the role I can’t say the performance itself resonates all that fully.
I could say the same things about Minnie Driver (playing fellow thirty-something law student Abra Rice who becomes Betty’s best friend, confidant and legalistic conspirator), Juliette Lewis (a key witness whose testimony is suspect) and Clea DuVall (she’s Brenda Marsh, Kenny’s wife and one of the reasons he ends up behind bars), but all of them have at least have one signature scene that’s powerful enough to mitigate a lot of misgivings. Each do something memorable, coming through when the chips are down and end up crafting characters that are far more interesting and memorable than they probably have any right to be.
There is a moment in the movie where all my reservations about it disappear almost instantaneously. Betty and Abra get a bit of news that changes everything and sets them on the path they’ve been lusting after. From that point forward no matter what hurdles are thrown their way there is a compulsive energy to their quest that takes over. The tension rises, the movie turning into a mesmerizing procedural that had me right on the edge of my seat.
Goldwyn handles these final 45 or so minutes beautifully. He uses restraint and subtly to build suspense, allowing the events to speak for themselves refusing to drown scenes in maudlin sentimentality. He uses Paul Cantelon’s (W.) score with an elegant sparseness that’s just about perfect, the final scenes having a kinetic and visceral power that’s undeniably compelling.
Conviction doesn’t do anything new. Even for those completely unfamiliar with the Waters’ story the place that it ultimately gets to isn’t exactly unexpected. But thanks to Swank, thanks to Goldwyn’s directorial restraint, thanks to the inherent power lying at the center of Gray’s screenplay, the movie comes alive in a way that hit me right in the heart. I was moved by Betty’s journey and felt privileged that I was allowed to sit in the theatre and experience it. This is a good movie, one that deserves to be seen, and my hope is that in a Fall loaded with so many inferior dramatic product audiences will forget about those distractions and purchase tickets for this.
Film Rating: êêê (out of 4)
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