Legal documentaries are an example of what documentaries can do beyond television screens. They can influence public opinion, expose the injustice of justice, bring long-forgotten cases out of the shadows and force those in power to act in a lawful manner. And sometimes, on the contrary – they prevent a judge from restoring the rule of law because of excessive hype.
In the U.S., they love stories about twists and turns in the lives of the main characters. Recently, R&B star Art Kelly became a participant in one of them, although it does not look much like a story with a happy ending.
He was charged in a 2008 episode involving child pornography, but was eventually acquitted. The artist emerged from that story virtually unscathed: he went on to work with top singers, did tours, and was nominated for Grammys several times. In 2017, Buzzfeed published an investigation in which Kelly accused the artist of holding underage girls in sexual slavery. And while this caused a backlash, including from streaming services that refused to promote his songs, the artist continued to sign deals with recording studios and, most importantly, remained free.
A few days after the premiere, Georgia and Illinois launched criminal investigations and brought in other victims not previously involved. Throughout the month that followed, recording studios refused to deal with Kelly. What’s more, the Cook County State’s Attorney in Chicago accused him of sexual harassment, and as early as July 2019, he was facing such charges at the federal level. He is now in custody in Chicago awaiting trial.
Even the executive producer of the movie “Surviving Ar Kelly” Tamra Simmons was surprised that law enforcement took over the case.
At the same time, the movie is the latest in a series of documentaries whose impact has gone beyond ratings on television or popularity on streaming services. A number of films have shone a light on the inadequacies of the criminal justice system, and in some cases helped to challenge convictions and compensate the wrongfully accused.
The opening scene of Part One begins with footage from May 6, 1993. They show the naked, mutilated and disfigured corpses of three eight-year-old boys – Steve Branch, Michael Moore and Christopher Byers. They are fished out of a drainage ditch in West Memphis, Arkansas. The measured conservative town is badly shaken and the residents, not to mention the families of the victims, are determined to retaliate against the perpetrators of this heinous act.
Police arrested Jason Baldwin, Damien Echols, and Jesse Misskelley Jr. and accused them of being Satan worshippers and committing the murders as part of some dark ritual.
Seeing the prospects for another movie, HBO sent directors Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky to West Memphis to film the story, which was to be a dark tale of flawed youth.
It wasn’t until the filmmakers gained access to the defendants that they realized something was wrong. The filmmaker’s doubts only increased, and he interviewed Baldwin, who he then characterized as a sweet and shy kid.
Afterward, Berlinger and his colleague Sinofsky called HBO and said they doubted the defendants’ guilt. “I thought they were going to tell us to go home, but HBO executive Sheila Nevins saw the potential and allowed us to continue filming. The more we dug into the subject, the less we believed the defendants had committed these acts,” says Berlinger.
Unfortunately for the West Memphis Three, many people believed in their guilt, including the jurors who decided their fates. All three were convicted despite a lack of physical evidence. What played against Misskelley, a 17-year-old with an IQ below 70, was his own words: he confessed after a 12-hour interrogation, conducted without the supervision of his parents or a lawyer. Misskelley later recanted his testimony, and his lawyer insisted that the boy was coerced into giving a false confession because of his mental illness, fear of the police and fatigue. Nevertheless, the judge sentenced Misskelley to life in prison and another 40 years on top of that.