Few actresses embody working-class pluck and ballsiness on screen as compellingly as Hilary Swank. She won her first Oscar in 2000 for her scintillating portrayal of murdered transgender teenager Brandon Teena in Boys Don’t Cry. Five years later, she was back at the podium for her performance as a gutsy boxer in Clint Eastwood’s Million Dollar Baby. She celebrated that victory at a fast food restaurant with her statuette on the table. Now she gets beneath the skin of another real-life heroine in Conviction.

Inspired by the story of a sister’s unwavering devotion to her jailbird brother, Tony Goldwyn’s film condenses an 18-year quest for justice into a lean 107-minute courtroom thriller that confirms one woman can make a difference. Betty Anne Waters (Swank) is a wife and mother of two in Massachusetts, who has always defended her older brother, Kenny (Sam Rockwell).

In 1980, Kenny is questioned about the murder of diner waitress Katharina Brow but he is released to the chagrin of local cop Nancy Taylor (Melissa Leo). Two years later, ex-girlfriends Roseanna Perry (Juliette Lewis) and Brenda Marsh (Clea DuVall) testify against Kenny and seal a murder conviction, resulting in a life sentence.

Betty refuses to accept the verdict and she puts herself through law school in order to prove her brother’s innocence. Her marriage implodes and she is left to raise their sons, (Conor Donovan and Owen Campbell).

Aided by law school pal Abra Rice (Minnie Driver), Betty brings the case to the attention of attorney Barry Scheck (Peter Gallagher) from the Innocence Project, an organisation set up to help wrongly convicted people overturn their sentences.

Conviction is a remarkable true story that provides Swank with a meaty central role that wrings tears and fury in equal measure. The actress doesn’t strike a false emotional note and she gels convincingly with Rockwell as the hot-headed prisoner, who seems worryingly capable of the crime.

Driver is a spunky sidekick, generating some much needed flashes of comic relief amid all of the legal wrangling. Screenwriter Pamela Gray stacks the odds heavily against Betty and Abra, so their valiant efforts leave us cheering in the aisles when it seems they might have discovered a fatal flaw in the prosecution’s case.

The seriousness of Kenny’s situation is brought home when one character coldly observes, “If Massachusetts had the death penalty, he’d be dead by now”.

In Henry’s Crime, Keanu Reeves stars as toll booth collector Henry, who works the night shift on a highway in Buffalo, New York, then returns home to his broody wife, Debbie (Judy Greer). The marriage stagnates and a deep discussion between man and wife is interrupted by Henry’s friends Eddie (Fisher Stevens) and Joe (Danny Hoch), who need their pal to drive them to a baseball game. Little does Henry realise that Eddie and Joe plan to rob a bank and he will be their driver.

Security guard Frank (Bill Duke) arrests a bewildered Henry at the scene, who is sentenced to three years behind bars. Freed after one year, Henry decides to rob the bank for real. “I did the time, I may as well have done the crime,” he concludes. With his cellmate Max (James Caan) as an accomplice, Henry concocts an ill-advised plan to break into the bank vault via the dressing rooms of a nearby theatre, which is staging The Cherry Orchard.

Henry’s Crime is a gently effervescent diversion, but without its high-profile leading man, Venville’s film would probably have been consigned straight to DVD.

Reeves is a sympathetic hero, who finally develops a backbone after being used as a doormat by everyone, and Caan has a twinkle in his eye as he delivers all of the script’s best lines, like when Julie asks if Max knows Chekhov and he quips: “Next to Gorbachev, he’s my favourite Russian!”

On-screen chemistry between Reeves and Farmiga simmers but never boils over, undermining the credibility of the shamelessly feel good resolution.