And believe us when we say she makes a very good case:
PHIL SPECTOR , On Trial
by Harriet Ryan
Are you planning to watch HBO’s “Phil Spector“? Then step into my cubicle. We need to talk.
I’m just a reporter, so my opinions about film aesthetics don’t add up to much, but as one of the only journalists to cover both of Spector’s murder trials, I can tell you that this movie, which premieres Sunday, is a bomb factually.
And in an era when millions depend on “The Daily Show” for their news and best picture nominees for their history lessons, that scares me. Most viewers will know very little about the Spector case, and when the program is over, their understanding will be deeply flawed. Except they won’t realize that.
“Wow,” I can hear them saying as the credits roll. “I had no idea that Phil Spector was railroaded. Juries are so stupid. The entire justice system is a joke.”
Of course, filmmakers — particularly one as talented as writer-director David Mamet — are entitled to artistic license. But the problem here is that the movie blends fact and fiction into a misinformation smoothie. Characters bear the actual names of participants, dialogue is lifted directly from trial transcripts, and Al Pacino nails Spector’s shuffle and rasp. But when the movie jets off to the land of make believe — as it often does — there’s no red flashing light to warn the audience.
What’s especially galling is that the film commits the very crime it condemns. “Phil Spector” argues that a famous eccentric can’t get a fair trial because the bloodthirsty, ignorant public is willfully blind to the facts. But the movie supports its thesis by ignoring, misrepresenting and soft-pedaling the evidence.
For those of you who didn’t spend the better part of a year in a windowless courtroom with Spector, a quick refresher: On Feb. 3, 2003, Spector met a struggling actress named Lana Clarkson at the Sunset Strip club where she worked as a hostess. They repaired to his Alhambra mansion, where two hours later, she was shot in the mouth as she sat in a chair by the front door.
After he was arrested on suspicion of murder, Spector claimed Clarkson killed herself. The first jury to hear the case deadlocked 10 to 2 in favor of guilt. A second jury convicted him in 2009.
In the film, we are told repeatedly and emphatically that there is no evidence Spector pulled the trigger.
“They have no facts!” insists defense lawyer Linda Kenney Baden. It’s as plain as Spector’s white dinner jacket, the movie says. If he had shot her, we are informed again and again and again, the snowy fabric would be drenched in blood.
In fact, there was blood on Spector’s jacket: Tiny mist-like spots near the lapel that, according to expert testimony, put Spector no more than three feet from Clarkson’s face when the gun went off. The same type of blood mist was found on the outside of Clarkson’s wrist, an indication, experts said, that at the time of the gunshot, her hands were up in a defensive posture and not on the trigger.
Then there’s the chauffeur. Spector’s driver testified that shortly after the gunshot, his boss walked out of the mansion holding a gun in his bloodied hand. “I think I killed somebody,” he quoted Spector as saying. The film suggests that unethical police detectives forced the chauffeur to make this damning statement by threatening to charge him as an accessory.
There’s no evidence of this, and Spector’s lawyers never alleged it at trial. Likely because the driver told the first patrolman on the scene about Spector’s comment and never varied in a subsequent recorded interview with detectives….