Documentaries and TV series ... Ten favourites hand-picked by Miss Lumière ... Lawyers, crime, trials and injustice ... Pithy analysis ... DVDs and streaming by the mile ... Months of worthwhile top-level distraction on the box
The Thin Blue Line (1988)
The documentary to which so many others in the true crime genre aspire. Meticulously crafted by Errol Morris, set to a haunting score by Phillip Glass and devoid of authorial narration, Thin Blue Line examines the trial and conviction of Randall Adams for the 1976 murder of a Dallas police officer, via the controversial use of re-enactments (much like courtroom reconstructions) intercut with interviews. It works a treat, in a spooky, non-tabloid way. After his exoneration, Adams sued Morris for appropriating his life story.
The Staircase (2004 – 2018)
Jean-Xavier de Lestrade's mammoth 13-part documentary series follows the trials and appeals of successful American pulp novelist Michael Peterson, who was convicted of killing his wife Kathleen and then hurling her down the stairs of their North Carolina mansion. Shot over 14 years, it's a series full of dark secrets, ugly impulses and unparalleled access to Peterson's family and his money-grubbing defence lawyers. A fascinating roller-coaster ride deep into the mind of a narcissist and the flaws of the US legal system.
RBG (2018)
A lively, intimate documentary about the mini-powerhouse US Supreme Court Justice with the super-size legal brain, 85-year-old Ruth Bader Ginsburg. Any look at RBG's life and work is bound to be equal part idolatry and awe (at least for feminists and Democrats) and this one by Betsy West and Julie Cohen is no exception. Reverence aside, it offers real insight into what drives RBG, covering both her brilliant career and her extraordinary marriage. One for the girls, which should be seen by all the boys.
Rumpole of the Bailey (1975-92)
Another oldie, but a goodie. Which could just as easily describe Rumpole himself. Played by the perennially rumpled and often sozzled Leo McKern, Horace Rumpole is a portly London barrister of literary provenance (Dickensian) with poetic tendencies (Wordsworthian). Created by eminent barrister, novelist and playwright John Mortimer, the series gently sides with the downtrodden, while joyfully skewering the prosecution and the bench. The perfect kind of British justice.
The Trial of Christine Keeler (2019)
Still in Old Blighty, but gratifyingly more racy than Rumpole, is the latest look at one of the most scandalous trials of 60s London. (There were a few). This time, it's from the victim's point of view i.e. the pulchritudinous Miss Keeler, who famously brought down the then British War Minister John Profumo by blithely sleeping with him and a Russian agent ... simultaneously. Snappy dialogue, stylish direction and near-perfect casting make this series a swinging delight.
A Very British Scandal (2018)
Yes, another one. Even juicier than the Profumo Affair, was the fall from grace of popular Liberal Party leader Jeremy Thorpe, who unwisely sought to eliminate his much younger male lover, Norman Scott (a perfectly febrile Ben Wishaw) when he became too troublesome. Hugh Grant has never been better as the tortured Thorpe in this tragi-comedy three-part miniseries. In the capable hands of acclaimed director Stephen Frears, the trial scenes are both excruciating and hilarious.
The Innocence Files (2020)
This quietly lethal nine-part series examines a number of wrongful convictions (invariably of black men) courtesy of the US criminal justice system. The series focuses on dodgy forensic evidence (specifically bite-marks), the unreliability of eyewitness accounts and the outright perversion of justice by the prosecution. Based on The Innocence Project, founded in 1992 by law professors Barry Scheck and Peter Neufeld, and directed by a stable of talented documentary makers including Roger Ross Williams, Liz Garbus and Alex Gibney. Equal parts gripping, and disturbing.
The Central Park Five (2012)
More injustice involving poor American blacks, this time poor black (and Latino) teenagers. The Central Park Five, masterfully directed by Ken Burns, Sarah Burns and David McMahon, tracks the events leading to the wrongful convictions of five young men who were charged with raping a white female jogger in Central Park and leaving her for dead. With no physical evidence linking any of them to the rape, New York police used another time-honoured technique - coerced false confessions. Donald Trump makes an unsavoury appearance, spruiking hate.
When They See Us (2019)
A companion piece to The Central Park Five, this dramatization of the same events packs real emotional punch, largely due to the convincing performances of the teenagers. Unflinchingly directed by Ava DuVernay, their shared story of powerlessness and injustice unfolds over four episodes and reveals the devastating psychological and family consequences of their arrests, convictions and sentencing, long after they're exonerated.
The Jinx (2015)
Creepy doesn't do Robert Durst justice. But in the end, the filmmaker Andrew Jarecki does. This is cat and mouse documentary making at its most thrilling, with Durst, a three-time suspected murderer (and one-time confessed dismemberer), seemingly the arch manipulator of his own story. Almost. Jarecki employs an array of techniques - from re-enactment to interview to archival footage - over six compelling episodes. The sting in the tail final episode aired a day after Durst's arrest for the 2000 murder of his friend, writer Susan Berman.
PS: Trial by Media (2020)
Tune into Netflix on May 11 for the start of Trial by Media, a six-part documentary series looking at how the media has impacted some of the most notorious US criminal trials. Executive producers include George Clooney (Amal Clooney's husband) and The New Yorker's redoubtable writer on legal affairs, Jeffrey Toobin.