Robert Redford returns behind the camera for The Conspirator, a film that combines his dual trademarks of earnest liberalism of subject matter and stuffy conservatism in its execution. In this courtroom drama set in the aftermath of the Civil War, Redford evokes the period by filling the screen with so much swirling dust that half the audience will probably contract lung disease just from watching it. Artfully lit by shafts of light scything through the dancing motes are Robin Wright’s cheekbones, accentuated by the hunger strike that her character, Mary Surratt, adopts while awaiting trial for her alleged part in the assassination of President Lincoln. James McAvoy plays Frederick Aiken, former war hero, now the reluctant defence lawyer buttonholed into representing Mrs Surratt.
The parallels to contemporary history are not exactly subtle. “In times of war, the law falls silent,” says one character, and we are repeatedly bludgeoned by the idea that it is more important for someone to be seen to be punished for a crime that strikes at the heart of the country than for justice to be done. Redford casts Danny Huston as the prosecuting lawyer. Huston has become the casting shorthand for anything nefarious, unreliable or fundamentally unsound. It all goes to make a somewhat grubby period of American history rather more black and white than it probably was. Robert Redford, 12A, 123 mins