"Gambling on probabilities"

Rating: 9/10 (26 May 2010)

The 50s are known as the age of the big picture – the epics and the uber-budget monstrosities. But it was also the era when the Indy film came of age, and every now and then a mini-budget wonder peeped through between the tall trees of the major studios. And 12 Angry Men is quite literally a small picture, taking place almost exclusively on the one set. It's unusual that a production that is so minimalist in terms of locations is derived not from the stage (as was, say, Rope) but from an earlier television edition – testament to the growing influence of TV at that time.
This is the cinematic debut of director Sidney Lumet, who has something of a flair for these claustrophobic little dramas (he also did the job on Murder on the Orient Express and Dog Day Afternoon). Already you can see him thinking about how to turn the one space into several different kinds of space. We begin rather objectively, with the camera holding back unmoving in a far corner as the jurors potter about. We then gradually close in, the shots becoming more personal. Crucially, the camera now often follows actors around as they move (especially the restless Ed Begley) to get that more aggravated feel to the shots. Finally towards the end the camera starts to pull back again, revealing the group dynamic as they spiral into heated argument. Lumet shows his inexperience (some shots don't match up very well, and the close-ups are too close) but essentially his ideas are geared in the right direction.
Such a tight little drama calls for some first class acting. Henry Fonda gives a subtle, considered performance, showing with his face and general demeanour that he is really not thinking just about how to persuade the other jurors, but about the implications of the trial, and the life that is at stake. Fonda clearly understands that Juror #8 is not simply a man doing the job he has been called up for, but one who has found himself under the burden of an almighty responsibility. Lee J. Cobb gives a performance of great power, and one that is needed since it is really his character that ends up holding the emotional weight of the picture. Honourable mentions also go to George Voskovec and Martin Balsam for giving the most realistic and human portrayals of the other jurors.
12 Angry Men is a hugely affecting and effective piece of work, not to mention a really neatly structured one. But is it perhaps sometimes a little too neat? It ought to be entirely believable, entirely smooth and unforced in feel, and yet too much of the dialogue seems so calculated. The writer's thought processes are too much on display. I'm talking, for example, about the way Juror #3 keeps saying something so perfectly hypocritical at exactly the ideal moment. And while it's true that each character must clearly represent a different attitude or segment of society, some of them are embarrassingly stereotyped, and the twee acting styles of Joe Sweeney and John "Winnie-the-Pooh" Fiedler don't help. None of these things is a big enough flaw to bring 12 Angry Men tumbling to the ground – don't get me wrong, this is still a mighty picture – but they do serve as a warning that the little pictures are just a susceptible to corn and gimmicks as the big ones.