Based, more or less, in real events in 1913. Mary Phagan, a young girl who works in an Atlanta pencil factory, is found raped and murdered. The ambitious prosecutor (Jordan) manages to pin it on the factory's manager, Leo Frank (Gallagher), who happens to be a happily married Jew. Frank is convicted and sentenced to hang, based mostly on the testimony of a black factory worker (Dutton) and some help from other girls who seem to want their pictures in the paper.
Should the governor (Lemon) commute the sentence to life imprisonment? Well -- yes and no. "Yes", because Lemon's own investigation reveals that Dutton has lied and the defense was practically incompetent so there is more than enough room for reasonable doubt, if not for Gallagher's innocence.
"No", because practically everybody in Georgia wants to see Gallagher get hanged. A commutation would kill Lemon's chances for the senate seat and assure him of complete obscurity.
Lemon's is the most interesting character because he's in a conundrum of the sort that psychologists call an approach/avoidance conflict and Immanuel Kant would have seen as a choice between a categorical imperative (what's the moral thing to do?) and a hypothetical imperative (what's in it for me?). As Leo Frank, Gallagher is a tragic figure, a nice Jewish boy from Brooklyn who seems to have been railroaded by tribal sentiments, but he has no choice in the matter. He's like a guy who's just been run over accidentally by a car. Too bad. But Lemon is like the driver of the car who can take off at high speed or stop and face the consequences.
It's a well-done TV movie with high production values -- great big ballrooms with balconies, lavish sets, hordes of extras, nifty writing and direction that doesn't shove the tragic or violent moments in our faces. Never -- never -- does the viewer see the jury foreman get to his feet and solemnly say, "Your honor, we find the defendant, Leo Frank, guilty of murder," as the camera zeroes in on the foreman's unshaven, redneck face. That's just one of many clichés avoided.
And what a cast! Lemon, Gallagher, Kevin Spacey in a minor role, Bill Macy in an even smaller part, Paul Dooley, Robert Prosky, Cynthia Nixon. Among the best performances are those of Charles S. Dutton as a sly and savvy liar and Loretta Devine as the girl he flirts with in the jail. Frank's wife is played by Rebecca Miller, whose beauty combines conventional prettiness with elegance. And a musical score by Maurice Jarre that evokes the hymn, "What A Friend We Have In Jesus." I assume the use of the religious tune is meant to be ironic because, at the end, the good church-going folk string up Leo Frank and kill him.
Should the governor (Lemon) commute the sentence to life imprisonment? Well -- yes and no. "Yes", because Lemon's own investigation reveals that Dutton has lied and the defense was practically incompetent so there is more than enough room for reasonable doubt, if not for Gallagher's innocence.
"No", because practically everybody in Georgia wants to see Gallagher get hanged. A commutation would kill Lemon's chances for the senate seat and assure him of complete obscurity.
Lemon's is the most interesting character because he's in a conundrum of the sort that psychologists call an approach/avoidance conflict and Immanuel Kant would have seen as a choice between a categorical imperative (what's the moral thing to do?) and a hypothetical imperative (what's in it for me?). As Leo Frank, Gallagher is a tragic figure, a nice Jewish boy from Brooklyn who seems to have been railroaded by tribal sentiments, but he has no choice in the matter. He's like a guy who's just been run over accidentally by a car. Too bad. But Lemon is like the driver of the car who can take off at high speed or stop and face the consequences.
It's a well-done TV movie with high production values -- great big ballrooms with balconies, lavish sets, hordes of extras, nifty writing and direction that doesn't shove the tragic or violent moments in our faces. Never -- never -- does the viewer see the jury foreman get to his feet and solemnly say, "Your honor, we find the defendant, Leo Frank, guilty of murder," as the camera zeroes in on the foreman's unshaven, redneck face. That's just one of many clichés avoided.
And what a cast! Lemon, Gallagher, Kevin Spacey in a minor role, Bill Macy in an even smaller part, Paul Dooley, Robert Prosky, Cynthia Nixon. Among the best performances are those of Charles S. Dutton as a sly and savvy liar and Loretta Devine as the girl he flirts with in the jail. Frank's wife is played by Rebecca Miller, whose beauty combines conventional prettiness with elegance. And a musical score by Maurice Jarre that evokes the hymn, "What A Friend We Have In Jesus." I assume the use of the religious tune is meant to be ironic because, at the end, the good church-going folk string up Leo Frank and kill him.