Art like beauty is in the eye of the beholder but for me the
best test of the quality of art is its nearness to truth. By that analysis television is a vexed art
form because truth is often difficult, sometimes messy, usually boring and rarely
susceptible to tidy one hour packaging.
Reality TV is, of course, anything but.
But sometimes, through skill or serendipity, TV excels. The three part BBC4 series 'The Prosecutors',
providing a peek inside the machinery of the Crown Prosecution Service, commenced
this week with a heartbreaking glimpse of truth.
I have followed the reaction of Criminal Justice System
professionals who watched the programme and those who couldn’t bring themselves
to watch it. In the latter camp are
those who anticipated that they would be unable to contain their feelings at a
sanitised account of a functioning prosecution service glossing over the myriad
problems which in reality bedevil the proper execution of justice.
Certainly Episode 1 did not suggest an organisation in
crisis. But even the most jaded practitioner
could not claim that every single case handled by the CPS goes wrong. Many many cases progress as they should and
when they should. Of course that should
not conceal the fact that things do go wrong and, many would suggest, are going
wrong a lot more often than they once did.
With that in mind it would be useful to know on what terms the CPS
agreed to let the cameras in and what degree of editorial control has been
exercised.
Making all due allowance for professional scepticism I think
this is a series that needs to be watched and watched widely. Episode 1 ‘The Charge’ focuses on two
cases: an organised gang of ATM exploding bank thieves and a driving fatality
case. The former case carries a small
frisson of heist film voyeurism but the latter case involves a truly
exceptional woman.
On 16 September 2013 11 year old Flynn Morrissey, wearing a
seatbelt, was being driven by his mother to school in Cheshire. A Porsche driven by Hassan Maan collided head
on with Flynn’s mother’s vehicle on her side of the road and Flynn was
killed. A perfectly ordinary day on
which his life ended and hers and her family’s was changed forever.
Absolutely rightly a large part of the focus of the
programme was on her and the gradual revelation of her extraordinary fortitude
and magnanimity. This was not a woman thirsting retribution. This was a
mother who naturally and urgently wanted to know what had caused her son’s death and who displayed
remarkable forbearance that proceedings in the case only concluded on 13
February 2015.
Justice delayed is justice denied is a hollow cliché for
most who practise in crime but for a bereaved witness like Flynn’s mother those
long months between the tragedy of her son’s death and the resolution of the
trial process must have been an agony of waiting. I feel that this programme is required viewing
because Flynn’s mother in plain speaking embodies the redemptive power of
forgiveness inspired by pragmatism and a wish to do right by her son.
It is the duty of all of us, not just the prosecutors, to
ensure that the Criminal Justice System does right by people like her. Underlying many of the delays in the system is a lack of funding and I sincerely hope that the series does not conceal that truth.
But for the moment I am grateful for the strength of character of Flynn's mother that enabled her to share her truth with the viewing public.