What we have to ask ourselves is what are the chances that a judge who sent an innocent man to the chair some sixteen years previously and has taken to wandering Lear-like the streets of the city in inclement weather, will fetch up in the hovel-like home of the one witness who, had he been called to the stand could have proved the innocence of the condemned man, at the same time as the son of the condemned man, now a drifter, who has arrived, purely by chance from the other side of the country or 3,000 miles whichever is the greater, and, for good measure, the actual real killer. This is beyond contrivance and is not helped by the poetic dialogue playwright Maxwell Anderson puts into the mouths of his characters, particularly that of the son. Anderson clearly based his play - adapted by himself for the screen - on the execution in 1927 of Sacco and Vanzetti widely believed to be innocent of and crime. In an effort to distance his story from the real case Anderson moved the time back to 1930 and dispensed with one of the two falsely accused but while the case was still generating ink in the US decades later it had little impact in the UK. Anderson meant well and had a penchant for lofty themes but seen in 2015 it seems both stilted and dated.
Review of Winterset
