“Many of the public think it is the responsibility of alleged victims of crime to bring prosecutions — to press charges,” says documentary-maker Blue Ryan, “and they worry that they wouldn’t be able to afford to pay for a lawyer to do it.”
There is doubtless widespread public ignorance around the basic mechanics of the criminal justice system. And it was a desire to shed light on what for many is an arcane and labyrinthine process that motivated Ryan and her fellow director-producer, Sara Hardy, to set the cameras rolling on The Prosecutors: Real Crime and Punishment.
The final episode of the three-part BBC Four series that follows cases with the Crown Prosecution Service will be broadcast next Tuesday. And viewers should come away not just feeling better informed but also well entertained as the programme is a mix of education and sheer drama.
Unlike fictional portrayals of lawyers, there have been relatively few television documentaries about the legal profession. In 2005 the BBC aired No Win, No Fee about a solicitors’ practice, and three years later co-produced with the Open University, The Barristers.
Indeed, the current production team duo came to The Prosecutors with more knowledge than most of the system. Their previous documentary, BBC One’s The Unspeakable Crime: Rape, had required some CPS involvement.
Advertisement
But the current series turned the key-lights firmly on the prosecution service, which has had something of a rollercoaster public relations ride since its inception 30 year ago. Did the senior figures take much convincing to allow the cameras in? Hardy explains that Sir Keir Starmer, QC, the former director of public prosecutions and now Labour MP, had been highly supportive of their rape documentary and gave an enthusiastic green light to The Prosecutors. However Starmer stood down before filming began and the programme-makers had to return to the negotiating table with his successor, Alison Saunders. “It all hung in the balance a bit,” says Hardy. But ultimately, explains her colleague, Ryan, “what was reassuring to the CPS was that they saw how we handled ourselves in the rape case documentary and that we understood the law — that we were a safe pair of hands”.
Also working in their favour was the fact that Hardy and Ryan form about as discreet a film crew as possible — the two do all their own filming and sound work, so they created as little inconvenience to the lawyers as possible.
But, while the programme-makers acknowledge it was crucial to win the confidence of the CPS hierarchy and foot soldiers, they are adamant the lawyers had no control over what was broadcast. “This was absolutely not an advertisement for the CPS — our aim was just to show how things are,” says Hardy. “And some people in the documentary were quite critical — there are definitely ouch moments for the CPS.”
Indeed, in the two episodes so far, there has been considerable unease and some anger expressed about delays in bringing cases to trial, and, arguably more importantly, around CPS decisions not to prosecute. The programme-makers even filmed a CPS official opening letters of complaint.
On the other hand, Hardy and Ryan did not set out to lambast an already highly criticised service. Instead, their overriding aim was to educate viewers.
Advertisement
“We didn’t understand how decisions were made and how the CPS reached those decisions,” Hardy explains. “Up until now, all those decisions have been reached behind closed doors in a very secretive world. In dramas, the CPS element often only appears as a brief telephone call. But we found that in some cases the CPS is involved very early on, with lawyers working closely with the police.”
The programme-makers also aimed to illustrate how integral the prosecutors’ world is to everyday life. “We wanted to make the point that anyone can be dragged into the criminal justice process at any time — for example, simply on a drive to school with their children.” Indeed, the story of Nicky, whose 11-year-old son is killed in a head-on collision with another car, is one of the most compelling in the series. While The Prosecutors includes a considerable amount of law — for example, in the motoring case, going into detail over the legal difference between death by careless, as opposed to dangerous, driving — some technical elements were a step too far. There is no discussion of the rise of solicitor-advocates in criminal trials, or indeed, moves by the CPS to bring more Crown Court advocacy in-house.
However after 18 months of filming, the programme-makers came away with a thoroughly positive view of the service and the barristers it instructs. “I’m in awe of their knowledge,” says Hardy. “That they can plough through such thick files and then know where to go and what to look for is remarkable. They work really hard — some have 90 to 100 cases on the go at one time — that’s a lot to juggle.”
The final episode next week will focus on trial preparation and the hearing itself. The team’s cameras were banned from the courtrooms, but the lord chief justice did grant special permission for the crew to film in prosecuting counsels’ rooms at two Crown Court murder trials.
That experience has convinced Hardy and Ryan that limited filming should be allowed of criminal hearings. “The public would absolutely benefit,” Hardy argues. “Despite there being public galleries at courts, many of the public don’t realise that they can attend trials. Even broadcasting the audio from the transcription service would be a step. It is powerful hearing someone’s testimony.”
Advertisement
Is there no concern of the “OJ Simpson effect” of cameras in court, with advocates finding their inner Lawrence Oliver? “We didn’t find that lawyers played to the cameras,” says Hardy. Once they are in court-mode they are very focused. It’s a pressured environment and we were impressed with how calm the lawyers remained. The teams just rolled with the punches.”