Over the past few weeks we have watched entertainment trade papers convulse as they sought to cover an uncomfortable, complex story responsibly.

It’s simple enough to state what matters here. In 1999 a student at Pennsylvania State University was tried for rape and adjudged not guilty. His friend was found guilty of sexual assault, but that conviction was overturned because of “ineffective counsel” at the original trial.

The university later awarded $17,500 to the accuser for failing to protect her from harassment. In 2012 she killed herself.

The two men were black. The woman was white.

The grim scandal thus folds questions about race in with continuing concerns about the rise of sexual violence on US campuses. Sadly, those resonances would not, on their own, be enough to secure the story such coverage.

The trade press noticed because Nate Parker, the man found not guilty, is the director and star of a highly praised historical drama called The Birth of a Nation. Jean Celestin, initially convicted, is a cowriter on the project.

We are talking about this now because the absurdly lengthy film "awards season" – which essentially lasts six months – is cranking into action with Toronto International Film Festival this weekend. Parker will face a press conference tomorrow. Oscar speculation is inextricably entangled with a genuine tragedy.

In late January the industry was awash with fury about the absence of black actors from the year’s Academy Award nominees. The hashtag #oscarssowhite was trending furiously. Industry professionals such as Spike Lee were threatening to boycott the ceremony. The Sundance Film Festival, which falls between nomination day and the event itself, hosted any number of furrowed conversations about the subject.

Then Parker’s The Birth of a Nation arrived like a saviour from the hills. Cheekily referencing DW Griffith’s racist 1915 epic of the same name, the picture tells the story of Nat Turner’s slave rebellion in 19th-century Virginia.

Following a triumphant Sundance premiere, which triggered a standing ovation and rapturous early notices, the studios got stuck into an unprecedented bidding war. The credits had barely ceased rolling when the executives, still in the lobby of the Eccles Theatre, began yelling numbers into telephones.

Netflix offered Parker $20 million, but he preferred to go with an established studio that values theatrical release. Fox Searchlight, the boutique-indie wing of 20th Century Fox, eventually secured the title for a record-breaking $17.5 million.

It is scarcely possible to be too cynical about such deals. The studio certainly saw some commercial potential in The Birth of a Nation. A violent, angry project that was sure to kick up controversy (little did they know), the film had every chance of breaking into the mainstream.

But what really got the industry excited was awards potential. In the aftermath of #oscarssowhite, the voters of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences would be certain to vote for such a stirring African-American story. Right? When the film won the Grand Jury Prize and the Audience Award at Sundance its future as a multiple nominee looked assured.

News soon emerged of the rape accusation, but the controversy remained, at first, relatively muted. “Searchlight is aware of the incident that occurred while Nate Parker was at Penn State,” the studio announced. “We also know that he was found innocent and cleared of all charges. We stand behind Nate and are proud to help bring this important and powerful story to the screen.”

While the snows melted at Sundance the story went to sleep. It stayed unconscious for six months. As tends to be the case with awards-friendly films, the “international” premiere was set for the Toronto film festival – herald of the long march to Oscar – and the US release was scheduled for a date in October.

Things turned sour again when, in an interview with Variety on August 12th, Parker sounded a little short on contrition and empathy. “Seventeen years ago I experienced a very painful moment in my life,” he said. “It resulted in it being litigated. I was cleared of it. That’s that. Seventeen years later I’m a film-maker. I have a family. I have five beautiful daughters.”

Then the news emerged that the complainant, after enduring years of mental illness, had killed herself in four years ago. It seems that Parker had been unaware of this.

The swelling toxicity was now unavoidable. In an interview with Ebony the director admitted using the wrong tone, but, when addressing the notion of sexual consent, he compounded earlier offence by remarking, “The definitions of so many things have changed.”

Here’s what we know about that night in 1999. Parker and Celestin, both college wrestlers, were arrested for having sex with an 18-year-old woman when she was allegedly too drunk to consent. One witness (who later claimed he had been threatened by police) testified that he saw Parker lying on top of the alleged victim, who seemed immobile and silent, and that the accused man had gestured towards Celestin to join him.

The jury decided that the complainant was conscious and that, although she had consented to have sex with Parker, she had not agreed to have sex with Celestin.

So many of the United States’ social discontents find microcosmic representation in Parker’s case. At the time the Black Student Caucus at Penn State wondered whether a black man could get a fair trial “when a jury of his peers are all white, except one female of colour”.

When the story blew up again last month more than a few activists began alleging that the scandal was an establishment conspiracy aimed at shutting down a rising black star with a controversial message.

“Operation Derail Nat Turner movie by any means necessary is in full effect,” Lenard McKelvey, a radio presenter who goes by the name of Charlamagne Tha God, tweeted to his 1.2 million followers.

The most pervasive reaction, however, has been unease at Parker’s inadequate responses and at the ugliness of the original story (even if we accept his version).

The situation is given added pungency by the use of rape as a narrative pivot in The Birth of a Nation. Writing for the Los Angeles Times, the actor Gabrielle Union, who was raped 24 years ago and whose character suffers that fate in the film, spoke of a new queasiness about the project. “Since Nate Parker’s story was revealed to me, I have found myself in a state of stomach-churning confusion,” she explained.

Posters for the film featuring Parker’s head in a noose fashioned from the US flag were defaced with the word “rapist”.

Meanwhile, the trivial jamboree that is the gong season grinds creakily to its feet. Following the screenings at Toronto this weekend, The Birth of a Nation will, in theory at least, continue its battle for Oscar nominations. Fox says it is still strongly behind the campaign, but most informed observers accept that, as far as awards go, the film is already deader than Nat Turner.

Is that fair? Parker could argue that Roman Polanski, who was actually convicted of rape, won an Academy Award in 2001, and Woody Allen, who continues to deny charges of sexual abuse, took home his third Oscar in 2011. Now what, I wonder, distinguishes them from Nate Parker?