The first time Betty Anne Waters watched “Conviction” — in which she’s portrayed by Hilary Swank — tears flowed from start to finish.
She screened the movie about her determined quest to free brother Kenny — found guilty of murder and sentenced to life in prison in 1983 — with best friend Abra Rice and director Tony Goldwyn in New York City.
The second time, she watched it with Goldwyn and some of his castmates from the Broadway revival of “Promises, Promises.”
“Sean Hayes, I just love him,” says Waters with the wide vowels so distinctive to Massachusetts natives. She sits in a downtown Denver hotel, Goldwyn interviewing in an adjacent meeting room.
“The second one — teary-eyes. The third time, I was still teary-eyed. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to watch it without tears,” she adds.
Understandable. “Conviction” is a stirring tale of unshakeable faith and the profound bond that can exist between siblings. Waters is a role Swank excels at: working-class smart and guardedly tender. Sam Rockwell is Kenny, who was arrested and convicted of the brutal murder in Ayer, Mass., of neighbor Katharina Brow.
When Kenny Waters lost his final appeal, Betty Anne decided to go to law school. She would find a way to overturn his conviction. Forget she hadn’t graduated from high school. Or that she had two young sons — Richard and Ben. In the film, she is married at the start of her 18-year mission.
In the film, much of her hope hinges on shoddily handled evidence and new DNA testing. Lawyer Barry Scheck and the New York-based Innocence Project, responsible for many of the nation’s exonerations, have a vital role here.
The movie could easily have been called “Devotion.” “He was my best friend,” Waters says, eyes beginning to brim. “We ran wild together.”
And there’s no space between her answer and the question: “Did you ever have doubts about Kenny’s innocence?”
“No, never. I know my brother. It’s not just love. My brother’s not the aggressor.”
Credit Goldwyn and writer Pamela Gray with maintaining the possibility she was wrong.
The director learned about Waters’ story when his wife called him in to watch a “60 Minutes” segment that aired in 2001.
The filmmaker thought, “Wait a minute, this woman spent 18 years in an act of faith about a guy who could have easily done it. What if he wound up being guilty and the evidence came back positive or she was never able to get him out? What would that say about her faith? Does that invalidate what she did? And I thought, not at all.”
Goldwyn also saw the kind of sibling love story he’d been wanting to take on for years.
“Her act of love and faith sustained him. What is that human connection? That sibling connection?”
One of the movie’s many strengths is the way Kenny is never sugar-coated.
“Betty Anne’s greatest concern was that Kenny be honestly portrayed,” says Goldwyn. “She doesn’t mind the dark edges because that was Kenny.” Rockwell delivers Kenny’s complexity.
Kenneth Waters died in 2001. He fell trying to scale a 15-foot retaining wall local kids used as a short cut. He was 47, and weighed 300 pounds.
“Kenny burned too bright. He was like a big kid,” says Goldwyn.
“The film gets him absolutely right,” says younger sister Betty Anne.
“He has that quick temper. He has a lot of sides to him. A lot of it comes from being protective. He wants to protect, but he doesn’t quite know how to do it right. He has a wonderful loving side that has given me every faith I have in life. He always makes me feel like I can do anything.”
Anyone who’s lost a sibling might recognize Waters’ tango of tenses.
She pauses. “He made me feel that way.”
