At the same time that California Governor Gavin Newsom has called for an end to the death penalty, a powerful film opens that documents a horrific miscarriage of justice that most likely resulted in the execution of an innocent man. Trial by Fire, directed by Edward Zwick, is adapted from a New Yorker article by David Grann, author of the best-selling book, Killers of the Flower Moon, another startling true-crime story. This new film is not always easy to watch, but it is superbly made, and it should add to urgent dialogue about a pressing social issue.
Cameron Todd Willingham (played by British actor Jack O’Connell) was a Texas man with a wife and three small children. After a drunken fight with his wife, his home caught on fire, and the three children burned to death. Willingham was charged with arson and murder, though it was never entirely clear what would have motivated him to kill the children, whom he clearly loved. But his violent temper and poor representation by a Texas public defender led to a guilty verdict and a death sentence.
Over the course of the years he spent in prison, he clearly underwent a transformation and eventually attracted the attention of a woman (eloquently played by Laura Dern), who corresponded with him, visited him in prison, and tried to investigate to have his sentence overturned. She eventually found evidence of how the fire might have started accidentally, but the authorities in Texas—including rabid pro-death penalty Governor Rick Perry—refused to abandon their initial judgment of the case.
The story is effectively adapted by screenwriter Geoffrey Fletcher (an Oscar winner for Precious) and potently realized by Zwick and the actors. O’Connell boldly highlights Cameron’s abusive behavior at the start of the film so that we can understand any jury regarding him with suspicion. His transformation comes gradually, painfully, and convincingly during the time he spends in prison. We always feel we are watching the same person, but his humanity emerges as a result of his interactions with several different people over the years. Chris Coy gives a fine performance as a prison guard who despises Willingham at the start but who gradually comes to recognize a three-dimensional human being under his watch.
The scenes between Dern and O’Connell represent screen acting at its best. Dern’s Elizabeth Gilbert has problems of her own, so she finds a kind of meaningful respite in taking up Cameron’s case. The convict and the Good Samaritan approach each other warily at first, but they develop a convincing measure of mutual trust and respect. Emily Meade also gives a searing performance as a less sympathetic character, Cameron’s ex-wife who is too easily manipulated to turn against her husband.
As the film moves inexorably toward its dark conclusion, it becomes increasingly painful. But Zwick always keeps us invested in the characters. Most of his films (beginning with the Civil War drama, Glory, released 30 years ago) have had a strong emotional impact along with social and political urgency. Although there have been other powerful movies dealing with capital punishment, this is certainly one of the most heartrending. You come out of this film deeply moved, angered by the politics that muddy a controversial social issue, and also overwhelmed by a group of memorably multi-faceted performances.