`A TIME TO KILL,' A TIME TO HEAL : FILMING IN SMALL MISSISSIPPI TOWN BRINGS RACES TOGETHER.

Byline: Amy Dawes Daily News Staff Writer

Hooded Ku Klux Klansmen march aggressively into town to disrupt a peaceful protest by African-American residents. Angry words are exchanged, punches are thrown, and suddenly there's a full-scale riot, hand-to-hand combat and the National Guard jumping in.

It's hard to imagine a more racially inflammatory scene than that one, which occurs in the newly released movie ``A Time to Kill.''

Imagine filming it in the courthouse square of the small Southern town of Canton, Miss. (population 11,000), where historic racial tensions had been heightened by a recent city election.

That was the task that confronted filmmaker Joel Schumacher, and it had him worried.

``My greatest fear about doing the movie was the riot scene at the courthouse,'' said Schumacher, 56, the white director of such movies as ``Batman Forever'' and ``Falling Down.''

``We were using the people of the town as extras, black and white people who have lived with the scars of their past around them every day. My first fear was that someone with an agenda of their own would slip into the action, and someone would get hurt.''

The filmmakers weren't the only ones concerned. Alice Scott, 55, who had recently been elected the city's first African-American mayor in a divisive contest that was followed by the resignations of the city's white fire and police chiefs, was also keenly aware of the potential difficulties.

``We had some concern that things would deteriorate and get out of hand,'' said Scott. ``So we took the time to call together various groups, through churches and clubs and organizations, and tell them what to expect.

``I told them, history may repeat itself, but we're not about to repeat anything. I explained to them that the movie was a work of fiction, and we're going to keep it fiction. I explained very well what fiction means.''

The day of filming came. Local African-American teen-agers hired as extras chanted ``Free Carl Lee!'' (the character played by Samuel L. Jackson) in front of the courthouse, and then actors portraying hooded Klansmen came boiling onto the scene.

``It was eerie, seeing the Klan march into town,'' said Billy Watkins, a white writer for the Clarion-Ledger newspaper in nearby Jackson, Miss. ``It was a very hot day, and it was strange. If you were in the middle of that crowd being shoved and hit, who knows what could have gotten started.''

But as it happened, the movie served as more of a tension breaker than anything the town had yet experienced.

``What happened was that the movie brought the town together, because unfortunately, many of those who had lived there their whole lives had never spoken to one another,'' said Schumacher.

When the director called ``cut,'' people pulled off the hoods, laughed, and helped each other up. They talked between takes and started getting to know each other, some for the first time.

``We had some very prominent citizens playing those roles, side by side with the people who sweep the streets and pick up the trash,'' said Scott. ``Afterward, they would drink coffee together, and sit around the tables and eat. They even started discussing some of the issues in the movie.''

Dr. William Truly, an African-American who operates a family medical clinic in Canton, said he was impressed by the impact of the filming.

``It's amazing how much people find they have in common once they sit down and talk,'' Truly said.

Canton is located in the heart of Mississippi, about 10 miles north of Jackson, the capital. Its courthouse was constructed in 1855, before the Civil War. Its neighborhoods remain largely segregated. Though 70 percent of the population is African-American, whites dominated city hall until Scott's election. Scott appointed African-Americans to the posts whites vacated upon her election. Shortly thereafter, an African-American alderman defeated a white incumbent, giving the city council its first African-American majority.

``Canton's white community is afraid that Canton's black community is going to treat them just as they have treated us in the past,'' said John Brown, president of Canton's NAACP chapter. ``That's not going to happen because we realize, because of what we've been through, that if this city is going to move forward, we're going to have to do it together.''

In Canton, acting out the issues in the movie - based on Mississippi author John Grisham's best-selling novel - may have helped break down barriers and establish common ground. Its impact on movie audiences remains to be seen.

``I think it can be helpful, but only if you present it in a context where there's a healing,'' said Schumacher. ``If you create that kind of pain in your movie, it's incumbent on you to bring the characters and the audience to a healing, or else don't start all that.''

Mayor Scott attended the Mississippi premiere in Canton along with many of the townspeople.

``It did not disturb me to see that in the movie,'' Scott said. ``I lived through the '50s and '60s when all of that took place, but now that we've gotten past it I work daily and diligently to make sure that we do not repeat it.

``I'm open-minded enough to look at it in the movies and say, `Yes, that happened, but let's take it from there and move on.' ''

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2 Photos

Photo: (1) ``A Time to Kill'' director Joel Schumacher's fears about shooting courthouse scenes in Canton, Miss., with residents serving as extras - some in Ku Klux Klan robes - were allayed once filming began: ``What happened was that the movie brought the town together, because unfortunately, many of those who had lived there their whole lives had never spoken to one another,'' he says.

Bob Halvorsen/Daily News

(2) Gwen Hailey (Tonea Stewart) follows husband Carl Lee Hailey (Samuel L. Jackson) as he carries their daughter, Tonya (Rae'ven Kelly), after she has been assaulted in ``A Time to Kill.''