There’s not much heat in “Trial by Fire”
A pair of solid performances anchor the fact-based film “Trial by Fire”: Jack O’Connell (“Unbroken”) plays Cameron Todd Willingham, who in 1992 received a death sentence for the murder of his three young daughters, by arson. And Laura Dern (“Twin Peaks”) is Elizabeth Gilbert, a Houston playwright who befriended him, based on little more than a random pen-pal connection, and later grew to become the chief advocate for his release, on the grounds that shoddy forensic evidence, among other things, may have corrupted his trial.
O’Connell doesn’t shy away from his character’s unpleasant side. Todd, as everyone calls him, is at best a jerk: bellicose, a drinker and, during his trial, prone to outbursts of defensiveness that undercut his protestations of innocence. Dern, for her part, brings a deceptive naivete to Elizabeth, whose tenderheartedness shifts to righteous anger after she begins poking around in trial transcripts, talking to witnesses and educating herself about advancements in the science of arson investigation.
They’re both fascinating characters, and their unlikely friendship is actually the most interesting thing about the film, which is based on both a 2009 New Yorker article and the cache of letters exchanged between Todd and Elizabeth. That interest is somewhat dampened by the fact that “Fire” doesn’t really introduce their dynamic until relatively late in the story, spending a lot of time in setup.
Director Edward Zwick (“Glory”) re-creates the fire — first from Todd’s perspective, then from the perspective of arson investigators, during slow-moving courtroom scenes that also flash back to arguments between Todd and his wife (Emily Meade).
These scenes only have the effect of solidifying a sense that Todd could have been capable of murder.
Once “Fire” shifts to death row, however, things change, largely because we start to see Todd through Elizabeth’s eyes. O’Connell also presents a slightly softer side of his character, although he’s far from what anyone would call likable. The film never wholly or satisfyingly engages with why Elizabeth becomes so convinced of Todd’s innocence.
To be sure, ample evidence has come to light suggesting that Willingham received inadequate legal counsel, as well as that investigators relied on junk science and that a key witness, Willingham’s cellmate (Blake Lewis), lied in exchange for a lighter sentence.
But as hard as Elizabeth works to save Todd, O’Connell works just as hard to cast doubt on his character’s worthiness of salvation. At several points, for instance, Todd argues with Elizabeth against wasting her time on him. It’s a perverse character choice, but it makes for a mesmerizing friction between the passionate convictions of a crusader — Elizabeth — and the hopeless inertia of her cause: Jack.
If you’re not familiar with the facts of Willingham’s case, I’d suggest you not Google them. Knowing the outcome only robs the film of some of its power. But what suspense there is comes courtesy of a narrative that hews, at times, too closely to the familiar contours of such anti-death-penalty films as “Dead Man Walking” and “The Life of David Gale.”
“Trial by Fire” never really stirs up much outrage or sadness, although it tries. It’s a good story, not a great one, that generates fire, but no heat.