Brotherly love

“Conviction” is the story of a man behind bars and a womanin a prison of her own creation. They’re siblings. Based on a true story — thatwas still unfolding while the movie was in production, interestingly enough —Pamela Gray’s screenplay is a bittersweet examination of how the ties that bindcan also tie us down.

Shortly after Kenneth “Muddy” Waters (Sam Rockwell) wasfound guilty of first-degree murder and armed robbery in the death of a womanwith whom he had a bad history, Betty Ann Waters (Hilary Swank) began servingtime in the ivy-covered halls of academia. Betty Ann, who’d previously been a mother of two and a bartender to many, was so certainof her brother’s innocence that she decided to put herself through law school anddevote her life to overturning Kenny’s conviction (thus, the double meaning ofthe movie’s title).

As her decision begins to cost her a lot of sleep, a lot ofmoney and even her marriage, Betty Ann’s tenacity begins to seem less inspiringthan it is delusional. What if she’s wrong? After all, Kenny was well known forhaving a foul temper and a propensity for bizarre behavior and, aside fromBetty Ann, he seemed to have something of a misogynistic streak.

While Rockwell’s jittery energy and startling emotionalexplosions keep us questioning Kenny’s true nature, Swank is given less room inwhich to maneuver. Betty Ann is unswerving in her devotion to Kenny andunwilling to listen to skeptics, qualities that sometimes make her seemslightly high-strung or snappish.

To its credit, “Conviction” is not one of those real-lifedramas that hangs halos over the heads of its noble characters, only presentingthem at their brightest moments.

But although Betty Ann is supposed to be the central figure(and Swank instills her with a fair amount of fiery self-righteousness),“Conviction” really crackles whenever director Tony Goldwyn lets Rockwell offhis leash, or gives Juliette Lewis a few wonderfully wacky scenes as a trollopwho isn’t necessarily as clueless as she looks. As Betty Ann’s classmate andco-investigator, Minnie Driver elevates what might have been a conventional“concerned friend” role into something substantial and resonant. Less fortunateis Melissa Leo, saddled with the thankless role of a scowling police officer —Kenny calls her “Angie Dickinson” — who creates trouble for the Waters family.

Leo’s role is one of the few elements of “Conviction” thatseems insincere or exaggerated. Goldwyn and his production team deserve specialcommendation for their capable, subtle handling of the story’s very lengthytimeline (which starts in the 1960s and ends in 2009); they do a fine job ofindicating eras without trotting out too many clothes, songs and cars thatscream, “Now, we’re in the 1970s!” or “See? Now, it’s the 1990s!” The focusremains squarely on Kenny and Betty: Decades pass, fashions change, but thesetwo remain trapped in their places, either unable or unwilling to let go of thepast.

Local note of interest: If you sense something familiarabout the voice of the priest who’s speaking moments before Kenny is picked upby the police, you should: The priest is played by Williamston Theatreexecutive director John Lepard, who can currently be seen in “Among Friends” atStormfield Theatre.