Five teens from Harlem become trapped in a nightmare when they're falsely accused of a brutal attack in Central Park.
I was reluctant to watch this miniseries, because I had read a lot about it and I thought, gee, I know how it turns out, so why watch a grim, depressing reconstruction of it? But I realized eventually that I had to give it a chance. So many people loved it so much, and most of the very few who didn’t hated it so much, I figured it must be good and accurate for that kind of response. And so it was.
The acting, to me, seemed superb. (I don’t pretend to be an expert film reviewer; I only know what I like and what seems like quality.) There were some gruesome scenes, as the plot demands, but not as many as I anticipated, and they were balanced by small acts of grace for the five boys.
They did something odd with the plotting, not just telling the story in chronological order, or for each suspect separately, but a combination or those methods. Telling some of the story for the group and branching out to divide the story later on. It is hard to explain, but effective.
I am not going to get lost in the politics of racism and unequal justice that underpins this story. There are good people and not so good people depicted here. Some of the good ones make mistakes, and a few of the less good ones redeem themselves a little. Others don’t. Mostly the movie says to me that it is easier to hope when you have love, and easier to love when you have hope.