Gil Garcetti’s freakout at Marcia Clark and Chris Darden over the glove demonstration.
False. We see Garcetti on-screen having one of the episode’s major breakdowns, calling their performance in court “the most colossal disaster” he’s ever seen, and screaming at his prosecutors, after they protest that the evidence still overwhelmingly supports Simpson’s guilt, “No one understands goddamn DNA, Marcia, but everyone can tell when a goddamn glove doesn’t fit on a goddamn hand.” This didn’t happen. Though Clark and Darden offer slightly differing accounts, with Darden writing that he felt shut out by his fellow attorneys, Clark wrote in
Without a Doubt, “His [Darden’s] office was crowded with people . . . all offering sympathy and suggestions for how we could pull ourselves out of this nosedive. “
But perhaps this is meant to be as a setup for character development that may have needed to occur for Garcetti to go from D.A. to super-chill photographer—a 2014 exhibition was called “Paris: Women & Bicycles”—and “L.A.’s First Dad,” as he has in real life (Garcetti’s son, Eric, is currently Los Angeles’s mayor).
O.J.’s poker games with his “material witnesses.”
While it has been reported that Simpson currently enjoys poker games from prison (along with
episodes of Keeping Up with the Kardashians), and while he received friends and family as “material witnesses” during his trial for murder, it’s unknowable how they passed their time each visit. It is true that as the trial went on, Kardashian noticed that Simpson’s friends on the material witness list who could “see O.J.” anytime, visited less and less frequently, perhaps coinciding with the growing perception of his guilt. But the scene is undoubtedly a clever move on the writers’ part, drawing attention not only to O.J.’s eagerness to gamble, but his skill at bluffing.
Was Dennis Fung really such a disaster on the stand?
Oh, yes, he really was, except that Barry Scheck’s takedown lasted for two weeks. From Jeffrey Toobin’s
The Run of His Life:
Large purple blotches that looked like bruises began to appear under Fung’s eyes. First Fung said he was sure that he never collected evidence with his bare hands; then he wasn’t sure. First he was positive that he hadn’t collected any evidence until the coroner’s representatives had left the scene; then, after seeing a video, Fung conceded that he had. . . . At least some of these flaws could be attributed to the LAPD’s underfunding of its Scientific Investigative Division (and undertraining of its personnel), but whatever the reasons, the failures reflected on the prosecution’s case against O.J. Simpson. It was a brilliant— and devastating— cross-examination.
When one of Simpson’s “material witness” poker buddies jokes, “DNA, whatever that is,” the writers are trying to give us an idea of what DNA was to a public in a Blockbuster-video, pre–
C.S.I. era. It was only in 1987 when the first person was convicted of a crime based on DNA evidence. Even though Marcia Clark emphasizes the 1 in 170 million statistic, exactly what DNA is and why it was so damning was not ingrained in culture, and her “many, many more times” more accurate than a fingerprint analogy just wasn’t good enough. Of Scheck, she wrote in her memoir:
Not only did I find Scheck’s performance intellectually dishonest, I considered him by far the most obnoxious lawyer in that courtroom. And that’s saying a lot. Scheck’s treatment of Dennis Fung was deplorable. … He knew he was going up against a witness who was easy pickings, someone from whom he could have extracted every concession he wanted, with kindness. And yet he set upon Fung like a common bully, jabbing a stubby finger in his face and screaming “Liar!”
The grandmotherly juror with the knitting was nicknamed “The Demon.”
True. According to
The Run of His Life, “The Demon was the defense team’s nickname for juror number three, Anise Aschenbach, a sixty-year-old woman who was one of only two whites left on the panel. The self-confident and poised Aschenbach had said during jury selection that her advocacy once changed the minds of all eleven of her fellow jurors in another case.”
Did the defense plant a fake letter from an “anonymous” literary agent, about a potential book titled Standing Alone: A Verdict for Nicole, to get rid of a specific juror?
Toobin strongly implies yes, but who knows . . .
The origin of the anonymous letter to Ito about [juror] Florio-Bunten remained (and remains) a considerable mystery. The author had a good deal of accurate inside knowledge, including Florio-Bunten’s approximate age, her husband’s medical condition, and the name of the jurors’ hotel. Yet Florio-Bunten and her husband continued to deny that they had ever discussed a book project with anyone, and she ultimately did not write a book. A survey of all Los Angeles–based book agents by
60 Minutes in March 1996 found no one who matched the self-description offered in the letter— which further corroborates Florio-Bunten’s claim that no such conversations took place. Members of the defense team, who had a motive to want Florio-Bunten removed, have categorically denied any role in the letter, and no evidence has surfaced tying them to it. In the end it was probably either a freelance effort by an insider to help Simpson’s cause, or part of a personal vendetta against Florio-Bunten.
Ross versus Target.
True, and referred to by Ito as “famous Target/Ross shopping incident.” In the episode, we see Tracy Hampton bringing it up to Ito, when it was actually Jeanette Harris, the woman eventually dismissed for lying on her questionnaire about being a victim of domestic violence. According to
The Run of His Life, “She said the deputies had intentionally given the white jurors the extra half hour to shop at Ross while hurrying the black jurors through the store.”
However, it was Hampton’s meeting with Ito to request being dismissed that led to the infamous “jury revolt,” as Dominick Dunne described it to Larry King. As we see, to placate Hampton into serving, Ito transfers three of the deputies guarding the jurors. Thirteen of the jurors wrote a letter protesting the transfer to Ito and dressed in all black one day; Ito had to cancel testimony for the day and “gave everyone a weekend to cool off.”
Did some jurors believe there were cameras hidden inside the smoke alarms in their hotel rooms?
Yes. From
Madam Foreman, a book by three of the jurors, “One day I got up in front of it buck naked,” Marsha says. “I did. I shook my bootie. I said, ‘Now, if you see something, I want to know.’ I not only did that facing the red light, I did it facing the mirror, too.”
Did O.J. want to testify?
Yes, but it was never humored as it was on-screen. According to Toobin, “With the exception of Bailey, who actually did want Simpson to take the stand, no one on the defense team ever took the idea very seriously.”
The tip line that pulled in the Fuhrman tapes.
This really existed and was established very early on in the case as a “ludicrous stunt of establishing an 800 number for tips to help them identify the real killer.” Robert Shapiro, according to Toobin, “gave callers the option of pressing 4 if they wanted to retain his services.” The tapes belonged to a woman in North Carolina, and Johnnie Cochran and F. Lee Bailey ended up going to rural North Carolina to retrieve them.