A journalistic reinvestigation and retrial of a decade-old Texas murder case, with findings very different from those of the court. One of the built-in limitations of this type of tabloid cinema is that it fully hopes to turn its "story" into "news," and thereby to shorten its own shelf life. Beyond its fleeting newsworthiness, beyond even its potential service to society (I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang, of 1932, may deserve some of the credit for abolishing chain gangs, but who can enjoy watching it today?), does it hold its own as a movie? (Will anyone want to watch it in another fifty years?) Well, it certainly does try. But it tries too hard with its staged re-enactments of the crime, in timid imitation of Rashomon and trashy imitation of film noir. These little sprinklings of police action, intended partly just to alleviate the dryness of an "interview movie," manage instead to get it all wet. And the case itself is too naturally juicy to have worried about dryness. Directed by Errol Morris. (1988) — Duncan Shepherd
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