'Crime & Punishment,' stirring trial dramas

'Crime & Punishment,'
stirring trial dramas

NBC reality series relies on actual dialogue

By Dan Jewel

    Let’s face it. Despite what we’ve seen on TV, from “Columbo” to “L.A. Law” to “Law & Order” and its spinoffs, most trials are unbearably dull, even murder trials.
   Anyone who’s ever suffered through jury duty knows that the bulk of a case consists of dry, repetitive testimony delivered in a Ben Stein monotone. Emotional courtroom outbursts and surprise witnesses are the stuff of fiction. Case closed.
    So despite the occasional real-life ratings blockbuster (see “Simpson, O.J.”), the major networks have never shown interest in airing primetime trials.
   But this summer, in the midst of reality-TV madness, NBC and ABC hit on an identical idea: Each week, follow a case from pre-trial preparations to verdict.
   Unfortunately for ABC, both shows debuted in the same week.
   NBC’s “Crime & Punishment” airs immediately after its newest hit “Law & Order” spinoff, “Criminal Intent,” on Sunday nights at 10. (Yes, it’s another L&O spinoff, created in part by Dick Wolf. Thankfully, they’ve kept the name out of the title. Keeping all those “Law & Orders” straight on the TV schedule is getting confusing.)
NBC's 13-week courtroom reality series follows a team of San Diego prosecutors, and the first two episodes make their careers look more exciting then those of the docs over on “ER.”
   In the first case, James Dailey, a man on trial for murdering his ex-wife, apparently told everyone on earth that he planned to kill her. (Depending on the conversation, he suggested strangulation, electrocution, throat-slitting and that old standby, chopping her body into little pieces. He’s a very imaginative fellow.)
    But his wife's body has never been found. This is the assistant DA’s first “no body case,” as he informs his supervisor.
   The following week, a man’s accused of smothering his own 4-month-old baby to spite his girlfriend, the baby’s mother, and her family.
   As fascinating as the broad outlines are, the real drama in both cases comes with the sort of moments that might seem melodramatic, were they not real.
   Dailey’s ex-girlfriend, testifying that he used to threaten to kill her, asks to move a garbage can closer in case she needs to be sick. We feel her horror without her having to say, “It could have been me.”
   Both men are found guilty, and this series wisely includes the sentencing hearings, at which the emotion contained throughout the trial comes pouring out.
   The first week the victim’s brother, addressing Dailey, explodes with rage, challenging him to fight. The following week the convicted baby-killer gloats that he’s “so happy that [the baby’s] in heaven, out of your evil hands.” The judge, labeling him a “selfish little punk,” seems barely able to keep from leaping off the bench and pummeling the guy.
   Similar remarkable moments keep the hour moving with the tension and suspense of a thriller. And “Crime & Punishment” is edited with extraordinary skill. A full 40 minutes passed before I even noticed that there wasn’t a word of narration. Everything’s told through dialogue, exactly like “Law & Order” itself.
   ABC’s “State v.,” airing Wednesdays at 10 for five weeks, one-ups its rival in a key way: We actually get to see what goes on in the jury room.
   Unfortunately, the rest of the hour resembles a typical documentary: The lawyers talk to the camera, and ABC legal correspondent Cynthia McFadden narrates the proceedings. It’s interesting but familiar, like an extended news segment from “20/20.”
   This time we primarily get the perspective of a public defense team in Arizona State Court in Phoenix. The first case, State v. Santos, in which a man charged with second-degree murder claims he acted in self-defense, is a strangely ho-hum choice with which to launch a series. There's an utter lack of fireworks in the courtroom.
   “State v.” focuses much of its attention behind the scenes. Rudy Santos’ lawyer, fairly new and quite nervous, practices his case before friends and neighbors and also his dog. He tells us that he has no clue if his client is guilty or not, though he clearly doesn’t like him.
   But the show only takes off when the cameras enter the jury room, where we watch these ordinary folks bicker and insult each other with terrific energy. In this case, a mistrial is declared, though we learn via post-script that Rudy Santos was later found guilty at a re-trial.
    On its own, “State v.” is an insightful show, but it gets steamrolled by the “Law & Order” machine. ABC’s series takes us where we don’t ordinarily get to go, but only “Crime & Punishment” gives us the cases and characters we’ll remember.
   But they better be careful: If the reality’s so good, we may not need the fictionalized version much longer.

-Dan Jewel is a senior editor at Biography Magazine in New York.

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