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The Murder Trial – TV review The Murder Trial – TV review
(2 months later)
The Murder Trial (Channel 4), a broadcast of a real case filmed in the Scottish high court, was a bold televisual experiment. You could call it groundbreaking, though not without some qualification: cameras have been permitted in Scottish courts since 1992, provided the participants give consent; the trial in question was concluded over a year ago, its outcome a matter of public record; six weeks of filming was boiled down to two hours of TV, and even that included archive footage and interviews with participants. The biggest risk involved in filming a trial, even a murder trial, is that justice might be boring.The Murder Trial (Channel 4), a broadcast of a real case filmed in the Scottish high court, was a bold televisual experiment. You could call it groundbreaking, though not without some qualification: cameras have been permitted in Scottish courts since 1992, provided the participants give consent; the trial in question was concluded over a year ago, its outcome a matter of public record; six weeks of filming was boiled down to two hours of TV, and even that included archive footage and interviews with participants. The biggest risk involved in filming a trial, even a murder trial, is that justice might be boring.
It wasn't boring, though. You could hardly have asked for a more dramatic narrative. In 2003 fruit and veg wholesaler Nat Fraser was convicted of murdering his wife. In 2011 that conviction was ruled unsafe on appeal and this retrial ordered. The access granted to the programme-makers was unprecedented – remotely operated cameras were able to catch the action from all angles.It wasn't boring, though. You could hardly have asked for a more dramatic narrative. In 2003 fruit and veg wholesaler Nat Fraser was convicted of murdering his wife. In 2011 that conviction was ruled unsafe on appeal and this retrial ordered. The access granted to the programme-makers was unprecedented – remotely operated cameras were able to catch the action from all angles.
The viewer need not share the juror's obligation of impartiality, but details of the case were revealed in a manner aimed at shattering any preconceptions you might hold. "This is an allegation of murder which has an unusual feature in the sense that we don't have a body," said the crown prosecutor, Alex Prentice QC. "There's no blood staining. There's no weapon. The accused has accounted for his movements on the critical day." How, I thought, could you possibly find a man guilty under those circumstances? I didn't think that way for long.The viewer need not share the juror's obligation of impartiality, but details of the case were revealed in a manner aimed at shattering any preconceptions you might hold. "This is an allegation of murder which has an unusual feature in the sense that we don't have a body," said the crown prosecutor, Alex Prentice QC. "There's no blood staining. There's no weapon. The accused has accounted for his movements on the critical day." How, I thought, could you possibly find a man guilty under those circumstances? I didn't think that way for long.
This programme may well affect the way fictional courtroom dramas are presented in future, not because screenwriters will see it – they presumably go to court all the time – but because we have. The non-trial-attending public now knows the many small ways in which real court is not like TV court. Real court looks like a stuffy open-plan office; the gap at the front where one imagines lawyers standing while they orate is filled with people sitting at computers. There is no shouting – everyone speaks in a low monotone, into microphones. The atmosphere is workaday, dispassionate.This programme may well affect the way fictional courtroom dramas are presented in future, not because screenwriters will see it – they presumably go to court all the time – but because we have. The non-trial-attending public now knows the many small ways in which real court is not like TV court. Real court looks like a stuffy open-plan office; the gap at the front where one imagines lawyers standing while they orate is filled with people sitting at computers. There is no shouting – everyone speaks in a low monotone, into microphones. The atmosphere is workaday, dispassionate.
For all that, when artfully presented – as here – real-life courtroom drama is no less compelling. The evidence against Fraser is entirely circumstantial, a type of case rarely examined in TV fiction. All we know for certain is that Arlene Fraser disappeared on 28 April 1998, and that her husband's whereabouts are accounted for that day (he's accused of arranging and instigating the murder, not performing it). Fraser's daughter, who was five when her mother vanished, thinks he's innocent. So who does she think did it? "Hector Dick," she said. "A hundred per cent."For all that, when artfully presented – as here – real-life courtroom drama is no less compelling. The evidence against Fraser is entirely circumstantial, a type of case rarely examined in TV fiction. All we know for certain is that Arlene Fraser disappeared on 28 April 1998, and that her husband's whereabouts are accounted for that day (he's accused of arranging and instigating the murder, not performing it). Fraser's daughter, who was five when her mother vanished, thinks he's innocent. So who does she think did it? "Hector Dick," she said. "A hundred per cent."
Dick proved an odd witness, a local farmer who "sourced" a car for Fraser the day before Arlene disappeared, and finding it back on his property several days later, set fire to it, motivated by a logic he still has trouble explaining. He also claimed Fraser had confessed to him – mentioning details about teeth being ground down – and admitted he'd subsequently served a year for attempting to pervert the course of justice.Dick proved an odd witness, a local farmer who "sourced" a car for Fraser the day before Arlene disappeared, and finding it back on his property several days later, set fire to it, motivated by a logic he still has trouble explaining. He also claimed Fraser had confessed to him – mentioning details about teeth being ground down – and admitted he'd subsequently served a year for attempting to pervert the course of justice.
"That might be a suitable time to stop for lunch," said Prentice."That might be a suitable time to stop for lunch," said Prentice.
At lunchtime, we saw prosecutor and defender calmly discussing Dick's strange demeanour. "I think the transcripts I'm going to take him through will show a different side of him," said defence counsel John Scott QC. He went one better after lunch, directly accusing Dick of the murder.At lunchtime, we saw prosecutor and defender calmly discussing Dick's strange demeanour. "I think the transcripts I'm going to take him through will show a different side of him," said defence counsel John Scott QC. He went one better after lunch, directly accusing Dick of the murder.
The most intriguing figure in the case was the defendant, who opted not to give evidence but agreed to be filmed. He was the still centre of the trial, listening, watching and maintaining a strange aura of glamour that one could read almost anything into.The most intriguing figure in the case was the defendant, who opted not to give evidence but agreed to be filmed. He was the still centre of the trial, listening, watching and maintaining a strange aura of glamour that one could read almost anything into.
Although it left me wondering whether I'd watched the same trial the jury saw – lots of testimony was saved till later, and cut in with the closing speeches – this skilfully put together programme demonstrated there are not two possible outcomes to a criminal trial, but four: criminal gets what he deserves; innocent person goes to jail; guilty man walks free; and the wrongly accused is vindicated. The implications of all this possibility go far beyond the defendant, to Arlene's family, to a daughter who is so convinced of his innocence she says she wouldn't believe he committed the murder even if he confessed.Although it left me wondering whether I'd watched the same trial the jury saw – lots of testimony was saved till later, and cut in with the closing speeches – this skilfully put together programme demonstrated there are not two possible outcomes to a criminal trial, but four: criminal gets what he deserves; innocent person goes to jail; guilty man walks free; and the wrongly accused is vindicated. The implications of all this possibility go far beyond the defendant, to Arlene's family, to a daughter who is so convinced of his innocence she says she wouldn't believe he committed the murder even if he confessed.
In case you haven't seen it I won't tell you the jury's verdict; only that I was surprised – and probably would have been surprised either way.In case you haven't seen it I won't tell you the jury's verdict; only that I was surprised – and probably would have been surprised either way.
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