conviction

When Nick Antosca was a kid, he didn’t like having good dreams.

“With good dreams, I’d wake up and think, ‘Well, that didn’t happen’ and be disappointed,’” he recalled in a recent video interview. “But with a nightmare I’d wake up with my pulse racing and think, ‘I’m OK, I survived.’ I loved nightmares.”

Chasing that excitement and “healthy” catharsis in his daily life, Antosca has built a career on telling crime and horror stories: “Channel Zero,” “The Act,” “Brand New Cherry Flavor,” “Candy” and “A Friend of the Family.”

His newest project is a 10-episode remake of “Cape Fear” for Apple TV, starring Javier Bardem as Max Cady along with Amy Adams and Patrick Wilson as Anna and Tom Bowden.

“I think everything I’ve done is kind of a psychological horror story about the characters and their relationships,” he says, noting that this is true of the best horror tales like “Rosemary’s Baby,” “The Shining” and “Cape Fear.”

Antosca was a fan of both the original 1962 “Cape Fear” starring Robert Mitchum and Martin Scorsese’s 1991 remake starring Robert De Niro. But he felt it was time for a modern revision, a Southern Gothic fever dream that reflects the complexities of life today.

“The terror in ‘Cape Fear’ is about the destruction of the family,” he says. The story was originally about Cady, a rapist released from prison stalking Sam Bowden, who had interrupted his crime and testified against him. In Scorsese’s version, Bowden had been Cady’s defense attorney who, knowing Cady was guilty, had hidden evidence about the victim’s promiscuity to ensure a conviction and long sentence.

The original features “an all-American archetype of a virtuous family pitted against a monster,” while Scorsese depicted a “broken and dysfunctional family and the monster is even more extreme, he’s like a swamp creature.”

“The previous versions of ‘Cape Fear’ are pretty cut and dry,” Antosca says.

The Bowdens are portrayed by Amy Adams as Anna, Patrick Wilson as Tom and Lily Collias as daughter Natalie.

(Apple)

The new iteration features a sexting scandal, social media eruptions and drones — “there’s more ways to terrorize a family in 2026 and the world is scarier today than it was before” — but that’s not what makes it feel different.

“In our version the truth is more complicated, the past is more mysterious and both the family and the monster are more complicated,” he says. “The truth is murkier and that feels current.”

In this adaptation, Anna Bowden had been Cady’s defense attorney, and he’s no longer an illiterate rube but a successful restaurateur who was convicted of murdering his wife and unborn son. After the trial, Anna scandalously married Cady’s prosecutor Tom; he became stepfather to her newborn daughter Natalie (Lily Collias) and they later had a son Zack (Joe Anders).

“The foundation of their happiness is Max’s suffering,” he says, adding that while the crime was local in the previous versions, Cady’s conviction had been a national sensation in this one.

On the surface, the Bowdens are a perfect family, but cracks are rippling with increasing intensity just beneath, a fragility that will soon be exploited by Cady.

“In the first episodes, the family is permeable and a threat could be coming from anywhere,” he says. “Even if in your gut you think it’s Max Cady, it feels like it’s seeping into the family from all different directions.”

When Cady is suddenly exonerated and set free, he shows up to insinuate himself in the Bowdens’ life. Anna, ironically, works for a nonprofit that seeks to exonerate the wrongly convicted.

“All the versions ask, ‘What would you do to protect your family?’ but this also asks, ‘If an injustice was done to somebody, then what are they justified doing in return,’” he says. “I don’t want the audience rooting for Max, necessarily, but I want to trick them into having sympathy for somebody they didn’t expect to have sympathy for.”

To pull that off, “Cape Fear” needed a star as charismatic as Mitchum and De Niro.

Antosca always dreamed of Bardem as Cady: “When I’d pitch networks before there was a script, I’d say, ‘Picture Javier Bardem in this role.’” But this time, his dream came to vivid life.

The two developed the character together, everything from the explanation for Cady’s Spanish background to his exposure to Santería and prison and his “mutated version of the real religion” to the tattoos adorning Cady’s body to an early scene with a panther and the idea of the “psychological jungle,” which inspired Bardem to incorporate a panther’s physicality into his movement and his eyes.

Antosca always dreamed of Javier Bardem as Max Cady: “When I’d pitch networks before there was a script, I’d say, ‘Picture Javier Bardem in this role.’”

(Apple)

“Javier also asked questions about Max’s emotional history that was useful in shaping his character,” he says. “We wanted to show a little more authentic vulnerability, which we see very much in the previous versions intentionally.”

To make this series, Antosca first approached Scorsese and Steven Spielberg, who had initially developed the 1991 version. “They were incredibly generous and quite involved,” Antosca says. “They encouraged us to forge our own path.”

The one place they urged some fidelity to the past versions was in the score. “They said the Bernard Herrmann score is part of the DNA and feels like a character in both movies,” says Antosca, noting that Elmer Bernstein adapted the original in Scorsese’s version and Jeff Russo used the same starting point this time around.

Scorsese discussed episodes over FaceTime and Zoom, spending time dissecting a vicious fight scene while Antosca was editing it; shot in color but shown in black-and-white, the blood splattering may make you think of “Raging Bull,” but Antosca says the visceral violence was meant to call up “Casino’s” vise scene.

It may be nearly too much to handle, but Antosca is from New Orleans and says he found it easy to exploit the Southern Gothic sensibilities. “Everything is heightened in the Deep South and we were going for that energy, where something is adjacent to the real world but more saturated, sweatier, more feverish,” he says, noting that while the first episode is “cinematically pretty grounded and traditional, when the family gets shocked out of their comfort zone, things get a little crazy.”

That meant handheld cameras, flares, saturated colors, distortions, negative imagery and odd angles to reflect the growing sense of terror. Antosca promises that in the back half of the series, the show will get even wilder and more destabilizing.

“It just feels like there’s violence in the humidity in the South,” he says.

Subconsciously hearkening back to his childhood sleep experiences, he adds, “I wanted this story to feel like a nightmare that just keeps getting worse and worse and worse and worse.”

MILWAUKEE — A federal judge on Wednesday considered whether to throw out a jury’s guilty verdict against former Wisconsin Judge Hannah Dugan, who was convicted of felony obstruction for helping an immigrant evade federal officers.

The case was an early test of how the courts would respond to President Trump’s sweeping immigration crackdown.

Dugan had been scheduled to be sentenced on Wednesday, but U.S. District Judge Lynn Adelman postponed the proceedings indefinitely to instead hear arguments about whether to overturn her conviction.

Adelman did not rule from the bench and did not indicate when he might issue a decision. Dugan and attorneys for both sides left the courtroom without commenting to reporters.

Former judge’s attorney points to a Virginia case

Dugan’s attorney Steven Biskupic argued that her conviction was invalid and should be overturned. He said that was necessary because a federal appeals court in April overturned a key Virginia immigration case that the judge and prosecutors had cited in the Dugan case.

Biskupic argued that based on the 4th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals overturning that ruling, Dugan was improperly convicted, procedurally, under a certain federal law.

“Our primary argument is this was an invalid theory of conviction,” Biskupic said.

In the Virginia case, an immigrant who was in the country illegally was detained by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents and later escaped. He was recaptured and indicted on a charge of obstructing a pending immigration proceeding.

The federal appeals court found that the ICE action did not constitute a “pending proceeding,” as is required under the federal obstruction law.

Dugan’s attorneys argue that she should not have been charged because there was no “pending proceeding” against the immigrant in her courtroom being sought by ICE agents, only a warrant filed for his arrest. The filing of a warrant does not constitute a “proceeding” under the law, Biskupic argued.

Prosecutors countered that the facts in the Virginia case are different and don’t apply to Dugan’s. They also argued that other cases support Dugan’s conviction.

“The court should stick with its ruling,” said Richard Frohling, acting U.S. attorney for the eastern district of Wisconsin.

In response to a question from the judge, he contended that the appeals court was wrong to overturn the Virginia case. The judge also quizzed Frohling on what constitutes a proceeding under the law and how long it lasts.

“It could be a couple minutes, it could be a couple years,” Frohling said. “It all depends on the context.”

Dugan’s sentencing was postponed so the court can hear new arguments

Dugan, 67, faces up to five years in prison after a jury convicted her on Dec. 19. But it is unlikely that Dugan would be sentenced to prison. Federal sentencing guidelines generally call for probation for defendants like her who have no criminal history and are convicted of a nonviolent crime.

She resigned from her position as a Milwaukee County circuit judge two weeks after her conviction amid threats of impeachment from Republican state lawmakers. She had been a judge for nine years.

Dugan was present for Wednesday’s arguments but did not speak.

The Trump administration brought the case against Dugan as the president pressed ahead with his sweeping immigration crackdown. Trump’s administration and his allies branded Dugan as an activist judge, while Dugan’s attorneys said she was being unfairly targeted and argued, unsuccessfully, that she was immune from being charged because she was a judge.

Dugan’s case marked the first time that a state judge in Wisconsin went to trial on charges of obstructing immigration agents. She was acquitted of concealing an individual to prevent arrest, a misdemeanor.

Dugan helped an immigrant wanted by ICE agents

On April 18, 2025, immigration officers went to the Milwaukee County courthouse after learning Eduardo Flores-Ruiz had reentered the country illegally and was scheduled to appear before Dugan for a hearing in a state battery case.

Dugan confronted agents outside her courtroom and directed them to the chief judge’s office because she told them their administrative warrant wasn’t sufficient grounds to arrest Flores-Ruiz.

After the agents left, she led Flores-Ruiz and his attorney out a private jury door. Agents spotted Flores-Ruiz in the corridor, followed him outside and arrested him after a foot chase. A week later, FBI agents arrested Dugan in the courthouse, leading her outside in handcuffs.

Flores-Ruiz was deported in November.

Bauer writes for the Associated Press.

WASHINGTON — The U.S. Department of Justice has acknowledged removing from its website news releases about criminal cases related to the Jan. 6, 2021, riot and insurrection, calling the information about the prosecutions “partisan propaganda.”

The purge of news releases documenting criminal charges, convictions and sentencings is the latest step by the Trump administration to reimagine the history of the assault on the U.S. Capitol, when hundreds of supporters of President Trump stormed the building in an effort to halt the congressional certification of his 2020 election loss to Joe Biden.

Trump, on his first day back in office in January 2025, pardoned, commuted the prison sentences or vowed to dismiss the cases of all of the 1,500-plus people charged with crimes during the Capitol assault, including those convicted of sedition and of attacking officers with makeshift weapons such as flagpoles, a hockey stick and crutch. More than 100 police officers were injured, many of them seriously, and five died as a consequence.

On Monday, the Justice Department announced the creation of a $1.776-billion fund meant to compensate Trump allies who claim they were unjustly investigated and prosecuted. Acting Atty. Gen. Todd Blanche has not ruled out that Jan. 6 rioters convicted of violence will be eligible for payouts, prompting bipartisan anger in Congress.

After a journalist on Friday observed on the social media platform X that the Justice Department was “quietly” removing news releases on its website that were related to the Jan. 6 attack, including about a Texas man who pleaded guilty to assault and also faced separate state charges of soliciting a minor, the department responded through its “rapid response” account that there was “nothing ‘quiet’ about it.”

“We are proud to reverse the DOJ’s weaponization under the Biden administration. We will do everything in our power to make whole those who were persecuted for political purposes,” the post said. “This includes stripping DOJ’s website of partisan propaganda.”

Among the releases removed from the site were those concerning seditious conspiracy cases against members of the Proud Boys and Oath Keepers, far-right extremist groups, some of which resulted in convictions and long prison sentences.

The Justice Department, in an unopposed motion last month, asked a federal appeals court to vacate those seditious conspiracy convictions, a request that was granted Thursday. The department on Friday moved to dismiss the cases against the group members.

Trump was impeached for inciting an insurrection on Jan. 6 and was indicted on felony charges related to his actions. Those charges were dismissed after his 2024 election victory.

Tucker writes for the Associated Press.

It’s entirely possible — as hard as it may be to conceive in these deeply tribal, us-vs.-them times — for two competing notions to be true.

Tina Peters personally enriched herself and betrayed the public trust by perpetrating a harebrained scheme to “prove” the 2020 election in Mesa County, Colo., was rigged against President Trump. The former county clerk and MAGA warrior deserved to go to jail.

But the nine-year sentence she received was unduly harsh and, according to an appeals court decision, improperly meted out as punishment for the false and reckless public statements Peters made, a clear violation of her 1st Amendment rights. The court kicked the case back for resentencing.

That’s when Colorado’s Democratic governor, Jared Polis, stepped in.

And stepped in it.

Over the strenuous objection of fellow Democrats and many Republicans — including Peters’ prosecutor and a majority of Colorado’s election clerks — Polis commuted her sentence, clearing the way for Peters’ parole on June 1 after less than two years in prison.

Which just goes to show three wrongs don’t make a right.

Peters, 70, was convicted on multiple criminal counts, four of them felonies, for conspiring to let an unauthorized person access supposedly compromised voting equipment. She then lied to cover up her actions.

Trump carried Mesa County, a conservative stronghold, by nearly 30 percentage points, making Peters’ actions — apart from illegal — unaccountably stupid. But her conniving made her a belle of Mar-a-Lago and a celebrity on the election-denial circuit, jetting around the country and spewing cockamamie conspiracy theories.

Trump loudly agitated for her release.

His corrupted Justice Department sought to get Peters sprung from Colorado prison, presumably to set her loose from a federal facility. The president issued a symbolic “pardon,” though Peters’ conviction on state charges put her beyond his crooked reach. Trump insulted and belittled Polis, suggesting, among other things, he “rot in hell.” More significantly, the vengeful president waged economic war against Colorado.

Among the retributive acts, Trump slashed federal funds earmarked for the state, closed a climate research center in Boulder and moved the U.S. Space Command headquarters from Colorado Springs to Alabama.

Polis, who has a broad libertarian streak, insisted his freeing of Peters was not a capitulation to Trump, but rather a matter of principle, which seems plausible to the extent the governor could have anticipated the unshirted hell he’s gotten from fellow Democrats.

Among the great many infuriated by Polis’ decision are Colorado’s two U.S. senators, as well as other vocal critics up and down the ballot. (One of those indignant senators is Michael Bennet, who is running to replace Polis.) There have been calls, within his own party, to investigate and impeach the governor, who had been spoken of as a potential presidential candidate in 2028.

“He was aiming for a national profile,” said Floyd Ciruli, a pollster who’s been taking soundings of Colorado voters for decades. “This makes it much more difficult.”

Given Democrats’ molten outrage, that seems like an understatement.

The judge who sentenced Peters in October 2024 was unsparing.

“You’re as defiant … a defendant as this court has ever seen,” District Judge Matthew Barrett scolded her. “You are as privileged as they come and you used that privilege to obtain power, a following and fame. You are no hero…. You’re a charlatan who used and is still using your prior position in office to peddle a snake oil that’s been proven to be junk time and time again.”

Amen.

The problem, according to the Colorado Court of Appeals, was that Barrett wrongly punished Peters not just for her illegal actions but for speaking out about alleged election fraud.

“Her offense was not her belief, however misguided the trial court deemed it to be, in the existence of such election fraud,” the three-judge panel wrote in a unanimous April decision. “It was her deceitful actions in her attempt to gather evidence of such fraud.”

The judges — all Democratic appointees — upheld Peters’ conviction and denied her request to transfer the case from Barrett. They ordered him to come up with a new sentence.

And that’s where Polis, who placed Barrett on the bench, should have let things alone.

Instead, the governor interceded and essentially cut Peters’ sentence in half.

“The crimes you were convicted of are very serious and you deserve to spend time in prison,” Polis wrote in his commutation letter. “However, this is an extremely unusual and lengthy sentence for a first time offender who committed nonviolent crimes.”

In response, Peters thanked Polis, apologized and expressed contrition.

“I made mistakes, and for those I am sorry,” Peters wrote in a statement addressed to the governor. “I have learned and grown during my time in prison and going forward I will make sure that my actions always follow the law, and I will avoid the mistakes of the past.”

We’ll see about that. If Peters clambers back aboard Mike Lindell’s crazy plane — he of MyPillow and election denial fame — we’ll know Polis was duped.

It’s easy to see his actions as surrendering to Trump. If so, Polis’ cave-in was pointless. The president is a bully to his core, always demanding more.

But if you take the governor at his word, and his actions weren’t meant as appeasement, what he did was bad nonetheless. He emulated one of Trump’s worst habits, short-circuiting a well-established, independent process by substituting his own headstrong judgment.

Pride, the saying goes, comes before a fall. In Polis’ case, so does arrogance.

WASHINGTON — The Justice Department on Tuesday asked a federal appeals court to throw out the seditious conspiracy convictions of Proud Boys and Oath Keepers leaders who were sentenced to prison terms for leading members of the far-right extremist groups in attacking the U.S. Capitol to keep President Trump in the White House more than five years ago.

Trump commuted the prison sentences of several Proud Boys and Oath Keepers leaders in January 2025 in a sweeping act of clemency for all 1,500-plus defendants charged in the Jan. 6, 2021, attack.

The request by the Justice Department would go a step further and erase the convictions for the extremist group leaders, including Oath Keepers founder Stewart Rhodes.

In court filings, prosecutors asked the U.S. Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit to vacate the convictions so that the government can permanently dismiss the indictments.

“The government’s motion to vacate in this case is consistent with its practice of moving the Supreme Court to vacate convictions in cases where the government has decided in its prosecutorial discretion that dismissal of a criminal case is in the interests of justice — motions that the Supreme Court routinely grants,” prosecutors wrote in a court filing signed by U.S. Atty. Jeanine Pirro.

Juries in Washington convicted the Proud Boys and Oath Keepers leaders of orchestrating violent plots to stop the peaceful transfer of power after Trump’s 2020 election loss to Democratic President Biden.

Kunzelman and Richer write for the Associated Press.