April 20 LOUISIANA: Morgan Lewis Partners Get a Hollywood Ending 2 attorneys meet with their death row client at one of America's most notorious prisons and tell him he's scheduled to die in the next month. After more than a decade of fighting for his innocence, the appeals have run out. As they drive in silence across Louisiana to break the news to the inmate's young son, one checks a voice mail. There is an excited message from a private investigator, saying she's found something big. The new evidence sets in place a series of events that eventually lead to his exoneration. This true story of 2 Morgan, Lewis & Bockius attorneys, partners Michael Banks and J. Gordon Cooney Jr., is packed with enough dramatic tension to fill a Hollywood screenplay. Or so Disney believes. Touchstone Pictures has made a deal for a film based on the Philadelphia attorneys' 15-year pro bono crusade to overturn John Thompson's murder conviction. Ben Affleck and Matt Damon will star as the Morgan, Lewis duo. In order to produce a movie depicting the events, Disney purchased the life story rights for the attorneys and Thompson, a common yet quirky legal transaction. Sellers -- and the lawyers who represent them -- must tie the often messy details of a life story into a neat legal bundle. "We're both flattered," Cooney said. "We were primarily interested in generating money for John." The lawyers got connected with Disney through producing team Amanda Stern and Fred Bodner. Stern is a distant relative of Banks, and Cooney went to school with Bodner. Cooney and Banks wouldn't comment on the details of their negotiations with Disney, but entertainment lawyers in Los Angeles say the process of selling one's life story to a studio usually follows a similar trajectory. Although there are always people who are convinced their life story needs to be told on the silver screen, usually a studio or producer seeks out the subject. Often, their interest comes from a nationally published news story, or from someone who is already famous enough to drive box office crowds. For example, Erin Brockovich's news-generating crusade against Pacific Gas & Electric resulted in the feature film of the same name. Once the parties connect, they usually negotiate an exclusive option to buy the story while they figure out whether the movie will come together. Sometimes, stories are so coveted that the rights may be purchased at the onset. The main lures in purchasing life story rights are exclusivity combined with the ability to obtain richer details not otherwise available. The characters can supply photographs, shed insight on events, and offer details of conversations held behind closed doors. "All you're really buying is someone's exclusive cooperation," said Joseph Taylor, an entertainment partner at Liner Yankelevitz Sunshine & Regenstreif. "It doesn't mean someone else can't tell your story." It also protects against lawsuits that could arise if a party is displeased. Litigation can crop up when rights aren't purchased and subjects claim they were portrayed in a false light, or the film has disclosed something so private it deserves to be kept from the public. "Unless something is defamatory or invading privacy or really shown in a way that's not accurate, the complaints don't tend to go very far," said Ann Loeb, a partner in Alschuler Grossman Stein & Kahan's entertainment and media group. Individuals who sell rights for a movie deal can reserve the rights for a book -- though a studio may ask them to wait until the movie has been released. In general, the subject is free to do a certain amount of publicity, such as appearing in news articles. But the contract will likely prohibit them from discussing the movie. Although the sale can bring in a chunk of cash, the dollar amount is relative. The Morgan, Lewis lawyers declined to disclose their price. "For a coal miner, it could be several years of income," said Robert Darwell, the co-chairmen of Sheppard, Mullin, Richter & Hampton's entertainment and media group. "For a lawyer with a nice practice, it could be not that meaningful." At the higher end, W. Mark Felt, now better known as Deep Throat, has sold the film and book rights to his life story to Universal Pictures and PublicAffairs for close to $1 million. In negotiations, it's important to specify the beginning and end points of one's life story. You might not want to give away your entire life, said Darwell, who works on about 25 options a year. "These lawyers had this great case, but what if in 10 years from now, they have another extraordinary case?" he said. "Should the studio own that, too?" When movie plans move forward, privacy is thrown out the window. The subjects must share personal information such as diaries and notes. It's also their job to make sure other ancillary characters such as relatives, friends and co-workers cooperate. The studios will usually want to buy rights from less than a handful of key figures, but they'll require releases from dozens of others whose lives are somehow intertwined. In some high-profile cases, such as the Amy Fisher story, the rights of the central characters might be divided among various studios. Once the subjects sign off, they often have little say on how the studios develop their stories. "They'll want to dramatize it, combine characters, fictionalize events and change it," Darwell said, "Even the casting of the actors changes the tone of it." That's often a big concern for clients, said Patricia Mayer, a partner with Mitchell Silberberg & Knupp, who has represented both buyers and sellers. "Movies will outlast you -- if someone betrays you in a film, the image the public has is going to be based on that film," she explained. "It's a leap of faith to give someone else the right to make your personal life story." When Mayer receives cold calls from people interested in selling their story, she offers a bit of advice: Don't sell if you want to control how your story is told. "If you want control, you should write an autobiography, op-ed piece or even a poem," she said. The majority of people who end up selling their life rights for a movie fall into two categories, Mayer said: those who want to share with the world an event that changed them, or those that want to share what they perceive as a tragedy of the world. For Cooney and Banks, the story appears to fit both -- a 15-year crusade that not only changed their lives, but opened their eyes to flaws in the judicial system, mismatched resources and the real need for a pro bono commitment. After working on the case since they were associates in 1988, the acquittal was "the most incredible feeling you can imagine," Cooney said. "It's the best feeling I have ever had as a lawyer, without question." (source: The Recorder) ARIZONA: Mexico govt reintervenes in Padilla case The Mexican government is renewing its effort to speak in court on behalf of homicide suspect Miguel Padilla. Mexico said Wednesday that a Blair County judge in February violated the U.S. Constitution and 2 treaties by saying Mexico does not have status to speak out or file court papers on Padillas behalf. Attorney Michael P. OConnor of Tempe, Ariz., representing the Mexican government, asked Judge Hiram A. Carpenter to reconsider his position. Padilla faces charges of killing 3 Altoona men Aug. 28 at the United Veterans Association on Union Avenue. Carpenter said the Mexican government must contact public defender Donald E. Speice to address the court about Padilla. In a petition filed Wednesday, OConnor states that Carpenter violated the Constitution, a 1942 consular treaty between the United States and Mexico and the 1963 Vienna Convention on Consular Relations. He is requesting a hearing on the issues. Padilla remains in Blair County Prison and could be tried as early as October. Carpenter now has a plate full of issues to address before trial. Speice has requested that the trial be moved to another county or an out-of-county jury hear the case in Blair. Also, the attorney appointed to represent Padilla in any death penalty phase, Ed Blanarik of Centre County, is attacking the use of the death penalty. OConnor said Mexico has spoken on behalf of Mexican nationals in criminal courts in Arizona, California, Texas, New York, Virginia and Georgia. OConnor said Padilla, after his arrest, was denied legal representation for seven weeks until the Mexican government stepped in and filed a petition on his behalf. Citing the Vienna consular convention, OConnor said when a Mexican national is arrested in the United States, the Mexican Consulate must be informed. A similar consular treaty between the United States and Mexico confirms Mexicos right to assist and arrest nationals in court proceedings in the United States, OConnor maintains. OConnor cited an 1821 U.S. Supreme Court case that stated "the long and universal usage of the courts of the United States has sanctioned the exercise of this right and it is impossible that any evil or inconvenience can flow from it." He concluded, "Mexico has standing to raise and address issues under international treaties and international law, which are relevant to the protection of Miguel Angel Padilla. "The government of Mexico respectfully asserts that Mexico has the authority to assist Mexican nationals in many ways, including the right to address this court directly for the purpose of protecting the rights of Mexican nationals, such as Mr. Padilla, in any proceedings before or with this court." Padilla, who the federal government says is an illegal alien, is accused of killing UVA club owner Alfred Mignogna Jr., club employee Fredrick Rickabaugh Sr. and patron Stephen M. Heiss. The shootings, it has been charged, came after Padilla and 2 friends were denied entry into the UVA club. (source: Altoona Mirror) MISSOURI: Missouri inmates' suit claims lethal injection is cruel 4 death row inmates filed a lawsuit in St. Louis on Wednesday claiming the drug injections Missouri is expected to use to execute them are unconstitutionally cruel. The 4 convicted murderers filed a claim similar to one filed by convicted murderer Timothy Johnson, who argued last year that Missouri's method of execution created the possibility of a "painful and protracted death." A federal judge dismissed Johnson's claim. Johnson, convicted of beating and kicking his wife to death in St. Louis in 1989, was executed Aug. 31. Still, legal challenges to the lethal injections abound. The U.S. Supreme Court in January blocked the execution of a Florida inmate and agreed to consider his claims that his execution by injection could cause him excruciating pain. On Tuesday, the 8th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals in St. Louis heard arguments in the case of a convicted murderer from the Kansas City area who has challenged the state's injection as unconstitutional. John Fougere, a spokesman for the Missouri attorney general's office, said that 4 of the 5 men executed in the state last year filed similar challenges, and the state won all 4 cases. "We have successfully argued in the past, and will continue to do so, that Missouri's method of execution through lethal injection is constitutional," he said. The 4 inmates bringing the new claim in U.S. District Court in St. Louis include Reginald Clemons, who was convicted of being an accomplice in the 1991 murder of 2 young women on the old Chain of Rocks Bridge. Also bringing the case is Jeffrey Ferguson, sentenced to death for the murder of Kelli Hall. Hall was abducted in 1989 from a St. Charles service station where she worked. Her body was found 13 days later. The 3rd plaintiff is Roderick Nunley, convicted of raping and murdering a 15-year-old girl in the Kansas City area. The fourth inmate is Richard D. Clay, who was convicted of the 1994 murder of a businessman in New Madrid. The men say inmates put to death in Missouri could experience "the horrifying terror of slowly being smothered to death" if one injection does not render them sufficiently unconscious before a second drug is administered. (source: St. Louis Post-Dispatch) ILLINOIS: Ryan's death penalty commutation stands despite new trial for murderer The Illinois Supreme Court ruled today that a man whose death sentence was commuted to life in prison by then-Governor George Ryan can never been sentenced to die again. Richard Morris' 1995 conviction for murder, vehicular hijacking and kidnapping was on appeal when Ryan commuted the sentences of everyone on the state's death row in 2003. The Supreme Court later granted Morris a new trial because he didn't have an effective lawyer. Morris argued Ryan's commutation was a partial pardon that precluded a death sentence at a new trial. The state contended that it only applied to his initial conviction. Ryan--what was convicted this week on sweeping federal corruption charges--became the darling of the capital punishment abolition movement when he cleared death row just before leaving office. He says in a brief filed in Morris' case that he never intended any of those convicts to be sentenced to death again. (The case is People v. Morris. On the Net: http://www.state.il.us/court/Opinions) (source: Associated Press) ************** TRIBUNE PROFILE: LOCKE BOWMAN----Lawyer's commitment no pose; Yoga-loving legal director of MacArthur Justice Center is passionate but civil believer in fighting for social equality A yoga-practicing, vegetarian trial lawyer brings fierceness, humility and dignity to the courtroom in his efforts to right wrongs done to people others often neglect. Locke Bowman's clients include Darrell Cannon, a prisoner allegedly tortured into a false murder confession whose case is in federal and state courts. Another is Corethian Bell, freed from a murder conviction that kept him behind bars for 18 months until DNA implicated another man. They also include witnesses who may not know their rights and are held for days at Chicago police stations by cops probing crimes. Those clients are lucky to have Bowman, 51, handling their cases. Described as a passionate but always calm, civil presence in court, he was named by his peers this year and last as one of the best constitutional and civil rights attorneys in Illinois. For more than 13 years, he has been legal director of the MacArthur Justice Center, a non-profit, public-interest law firm that focuses on criminal justice and celebrated its 20th anniversary in December. But Bowman credits others, mentors and colleagues who helped him on the civil rights front over the years, for his success. "There are plenty of egomaniacs in this work, and ego takes the place of monetary reward in progressive causes, but Locke's not like that," said Joe Margulies, who has worked with Bowman at the Justice Center for about two years. "He deserves a much bigger ego than he has." Bowman's wife, Maud Lavin, said he is "uncharacteristically modest" compared with classmates from their undergraduate days at Harvard University. That, she said, was one trait that attracted her to Bowman--for a 2nd time. They dated in college for 3 years before going separate ways for about 2 decades. After respective divorces, Bowman and Lavin, an associate professor of visual and critical studies at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, reunited in 1996 and married a year later. By then, Bowman had graduated from University of Chicago Law School, fathered 2 sons and, in his career, turned his energy back to "helping people," which attracted him to the law in the 1st place. Fit, youthful and bespectacled, Bowman's appearance evokes images of both a confident chief executive officer and a well-mannered parochial schoolboy--complete with the occasional wry grin. He gets up before sunrise and heads to a yoga studio. Then he goes to work, crafting novel litigation, taking depositions, arguing cases and working with his students at the University of Chicago, which the Justice Center calls home. By 1992, when Bowman became legal director, the Justice Center had become a force in Illinois. In its early years, the center challenged Illinois' death penalty law, noting gaping disparities in its use, and helped free the wrongfully convicted. It later sued gunmakers and distributors whose products were used to commit murder. The center continues to seek justice for Cannon and other inmates who are alleged to have been tortured into confessions by former Chicago Police Cmdr. Jon Burge. After the center filed suit alleging cruel and unusual punishment at the super-maximum security Tamms Correctional Center, an entire wing was devoted to inmates with serious mental illnesses. Bowman was a leader in the movement that helped persuade former Gov. George Ryan to place a moratorium on executions and later commute the sentences of all Death Row inmates. That moratorium still stands. The Justice Center also has represented inmates alleged to have been beaten by Cook County Jail guards. Earlier this year, the Chicago Police Department agreed to tell witnesses held at police stations they are free to leave, after the Justice Center in a federal suit accused police of holding witnesses for days in violation of the U.S. Constitution. And, in a broadening of its reach, the center has fought to get court access for U.S. government detainees at the Guantanamo Bay military base. "We think about trying to do things that no one else would do, because of institutional constraints, because of lack of time and money, because of low probability of a successful outcome," Bowman said. "And we hope that we look at things from the perspective of people who would not otherwise have their voices heard." George Davis, convicted of a 1991 murder, was among them. The Cook County public defender had filed a motion arguing that an appeal sought by Davis was "wholly frivolous." Bowman went to court in 2000 to stop the excessive use of such motions. Eventually, appeals cases were reassigned to the state. Meanwhile, with Bowman's encouragement, another lawyer took Davis' case. In 2004, he was set free. "I really don't know what a miracle is like," Davis said, but being released is "in that field." Bowman likely wouldn't call it a miracle, but rather a case of "getting it right," a phrase that peppers his conversation. Getting it right was a lesson Bowman learned from his father, Locke Bowman Jr., a retired Presbyterian minister who specialized in Christian education. "He is a very thoughtful, very ethical person, and expected people to, as he would put it, act right," Bowman said. "He certainly had a profound influence on me." Others who influenced Bowman include U.S. District Judge Hubert Will, for whom Bowman clerked after graduating from law school, and the late U. of C. professor Norval Morris, a criminal justice reform advocate who taught Bowman and later assisted the Justice Center. Bowman's colleagues said he is creative in crafting litigation. "He can think outside the box in a way I think this job particularly requires," said David Bradford, the Justice Center's founding attorney. "He has a real passion for fairness and social justice," Bradford said. He "acts out of conscience, both in his legal life and, from what I can see, in his personal life." Bowman's older son, Krister, 26, a product design engineer, said he has "seen my dad get mad, but I've never heard him raise his voice." He is, he said, "afraid to disappoint him," but "not afraid of him." As an intern at the Justice Center in 2001, Krister Bowman said he was surprised to see how "such a compassionate man at home" could take on a different aura. "It's just awesome to watch him in court," Krister said. "He's like a machine. He performs." Less than a year after Bowman took the reins at the Justice Center, it moved from Niles to U. of C., where students help with research, arguments and briefs. In June, the Justice Center will move to Northwestern University Law School, where it will fall under the umbrella of the Bluhm Legal Clinic. Bowman, who walks with a cowboy-like lope, gets up in his South Loop town home each workday morning at 5. Within 90 minutes, he's standing on his mat at a yoga studio, where for two hours he practices Ashtanga yoga. It involves a strenuous exercise routine "that is kind of a combination of fierce and calm," said Lavin, noting it fits her husband's personality. He keeps a stash of raw cashews and dried vegetarian soups in his office to supplement whatever vegetarian fare he can find at the Law School cafe. "My days vary greatly, depending on the needs of litigation, and the thing about litigation is that it's unpredictable," he said. "I hope everyday to interact in some way with my students. And it's a disappointing day if I don't have that opportunity." Bowman likes to cheer for his younger son, David, 18, a senior at Roycemore School in Evanston, when he plays basketball and baseball. Bowman also enjoys cooking. He leads a relatively modest life, especially compared with others in his profession. He drives a 2002 Volkswagen Passat, "the fanciest car I've ever owned." But his work, not material things, motivates him. "I do it to be happy," he said of his work. "It's a great opportunity for a person to have values and work coincide. Right? That's a wonderful, wonderful opportunity. That's a huge psychic benefit." (source: Chicago Tribune)
[Deathpenalty] death penalty news-----LA., ARIZ., MO., ILL.
Rick Halperin Thu, 20 Apr 2006 15:36:10 -0500 (Central Daylight Time)
