Finely tuned

Rating: 8/10 (11 November 2003)

First of all, what a cast! Fonda doesn't seem like much of a New Yorker, but the rest of the cast reads like a Who's Who in New York movies. All of them except Sweeney and Voscovek went on to lengthy careers in character and support roles.
The plot comes from a TV show and is very tightly written. There's hardly a wasted word or an unnecessary gesture. This has its drawbacks because it imposes a dramatic frame on the characters and the development. There's not much sense of "real life" here. Everything fits together too neatly for that. But if events follow earlier events with a logic that is a bit obvious, it's forgivable because the screenplay is done so well. Like "Stagecoach," it may be mechanical but it's as finely tuned as a good wristwatch.
Also more or less unavoidable in a short movie dealing with a dozen often conflicting characters is the reduction in their complexity. Each is a stereotype. They practically wear sweatshirts with logos on them. "I AM A SHALLOW AD MAN." "BORED MARMALADE SALESMAN HERE." "KICK ME, I AM AN IGNORANT RACIST." They are capable of changing their opinions but they show only one side of their characters.
A third unfortunate quality in the script is that it is imbued with what Tom Wolfe referred to as "nostalgie de la bou" -- a kind of admiration for the lowbrow. Pauline Kael made the same observation back in the early 60s in an essay called "Fantasies of the Art House Audience." What it boils down to is a dislike of the middle-class. Fonda is an architect, a professional. The other good guys in the movie are members of minority groups or ordinary working stiffs with slum backgrounds.
The two most repulsive villains (Ed Begley and Lee J. Cobb) are self-made men who run their own successful businesses. The rufescent Begley has a line, something like, "I got ten factories going to pot while we're talking' here." Cobb brags about how he built up his delivery business starting out with nothing. A third dummy is a SALESMAN -- of marmalade! (Yukk.)
Okay. That gets pretty much all of the weaknesses out of the way. The pluses outweigh the minuses by exactly two short tons. The acting is almost impossible to improve upon, not surprisingly. It's unfair to single out Jack Warden and Martin Balsam for their performances but I'll do it anyway.
The photography, by Boris Kaufman, is perceptive and adds to the tension, the feeling of claustrophobia. Especially memorable is the scene in which most of the jurors are standing together, there is a rumble of thunder, and a shadow falls gloomily over the group. It's a small touch but palpable.
Lumet manages to suggest New York City effectively in this crowded room, practically the only set. (There is a shot at the end that is done on the steps of the real Courthouse.) Lumet's direction makes the most of his actors' talents. The pauses in their arguments last just long enough for us to take a few breaths.
Rose's script avoids an easy ending. Yes, there is reasonable doubt enough for the verdict to turn out as it does, but there is no dramatic introduction of crucial evidence to demonstrate that the defendant is innocent. Did he do it? We don't know. Suppose the kid actually did it and gets away with it? Fonda is twice challenged on that point -- once at the table and once in the men's room -- and in neither instance does he have a reply.
Overall, it's a marvelous movie, a lesson in acting, directing, writing, and shooting. The recent updated version has been made politically correct but is not an improvement over this original. See it if you have the chance.