FRIENDS SEEK JUSTICE IN ‘CROWN HEIGHTS’
An uncaring system putting blameless suspects behind bars has been a cinematic staple at least as far back as Alfred Hitchcock’s “The Wrong Man” (1956). But few such films have been as effective as the fact-based “Crown Heights,” which was adapted from an episode of public radio’s “This American Life” and named after the Brooklyn neighborhood where its main characters live and work.
As wri t - ten and directed by Matt Ruskin, the film is finely balanced between two sets of astonishing events: first, that an innocent man, Colin Warner, could spend 20 years in prison on the flimsiest of evidence; second, that people who believed in Warner fought for years against inertia and crushing difficulties to get him out. What the good people do is as powerful as the bad here, and that makes all the difference.
Acted with gravity and emotion by stars Lakeith Stanfield, Nnamdi Asomugha and Natalie Paul, “Crown Heights” deals with the intensely human factors brought into play by tragic events — perseverance, despair, love and longing. But the film also demonstrates what a miscarriage of justice feels like from the inside. While issues of institutional racism and class play a part in the story, “Crown Heights” is more potent for letting viewers experience for themselves how stacked society’s deck can be.
One of “Crown Heights’ ” most impressive accomplishments is how individual its story feels, filled with twists that are anything but generic. This is in part because of the time writer- director Ruskin spent getting to know the two men whose lives are the basis for the film. The film’s narrative attracted committed actors. Asomugha, a former NFL player, is excellent as the best friend who simply will not give up, and Paul is just as strong as an old flame who reenters Warner’s life. But the best work is Stanfield’s on-fire performance as the prisoner.
Stanfield — who made an impressive debut in “Short Term 12” and went on to the FX series “Atlanta” — is in such complete command of the righteous anger and bottomless despair in War- ner that he seems to be living the story more than acting it. As the film opens, 18-year- old Warner, who was born in Trinidad, is living with his tough-love mother in a Crown Heights apartment. He repairs cars in a local garage, but he’s not above stealing the occasional vehicle to boost his income. He’s in a stolen car when arrested, but the police have something more serious in mind.
Much to his shock, Warner is detained, on the testimony of a putative eyewitness, for the murder of a man he didn’t know and never even heard of. Once incarcerated, Warner finds out from another prisoner who the real murderer was, but no one in authority seems interested.
His best friend, Carl King (Asomugha), believes “the truth is going to come out,” but it does not turn out to be simple. The film emphasizes how, in a tough-
on-crime era, neither police nor prosecutors nor jury members see any reason to look past what is presented as eyewitness testimony.
At this point “Crown Heights” very effectively works on two parallel tracks, what happens to Warner inside prison and the lengths to which King — aghast at what can happen to an innocent man — goes in trying to get him freed.
One way “Crown Heights” shows us time passing is by including clips of a variety of politicians, from Bill Clinton to New York Gov. George Pataki, talking tough on crime. What happened to Colin Warner may be history, but the issues it raises are with us still.