Revisit is a series of reviews highlighting past releases that now deserve a second look.
Consider this experiment when watching 12 Angry Men, Sidney Lumet’s 1957 directorial debut about the deliberations of a jury over a murder trial during one hot New York day. While watching this undisputed classic of morality and compromise, focus on just one of the jurors. It can’t be that difficult, right? Especially if almost the entire film takes place in one sweltering and cramped jury room.
The natural choice to begin with is Juror 8, played by Henry Fonda (who also produced), the only star in a room of veteran character actors. As the other jurors file into the space, griping about the heat and the imposition of the trial after spending six days listening to testimony (a young man is on trial for his life for the murder of his father), Fonda’s character immediately heads to the window where he stares wistfully out into the high rise buildings beyond. When the men are called to order, Fonda’s character is the only one who votes not guilty. Rather than go with the herd and condemn a young man to the chair with no deliberation, Fonda’s character slowly dissects the facts long enough to create reasonable doubt and shift the opinion of every man in the room. But not without a fight.
As factions emerge, let’s shift to the man most in favor of a guilty verdict. As the day grows muggier and the room more and more stifling, Juror #3 (Lee J. Cobb) is the most adamant about the defendant’s guilt. But what is his true motivation for wanting to condemn the supposed murderer, a boy of 18, to death? Keep an eye on Cobb. He begins by glancing at a photo of his son, one who we later learn punched his father and vanished a few years before. Justice may be blind, but Juror #3 hopes to exact his own revenge on this surrogate for his son. But this is only one misguided reason to bring in a guilty verdict.
In 1957, the expectation for an American film involved gunfights and car chases. Lumet may have been the first to see the explosive dramatic tension in the legal drama. However, in 12 Angry Men, the fireworks take place outside the courtroom, behind the scenes where 12 everyday people are forced to come together and decide whether or not another ordinary person should be put to death. Fonda’s juror soon sways septuagenarian Juror #9 (Joseph Sweeney) who is disgusted that some of the other men in the room want to rush the verdict so they can simply get on with their lives. Like Fonda’s character, Sweeney is dressed all in white and soon becomes a proponent for deliberation. He is also not convinced of the defendant’s guilt (or innocence for that matter), but like Juror #8 he doesn’t want to impart a death sentence on someone who doesn’t deserve it.
Speaking of color, we can tell in the only shot we see of the defendant in the opening frames that he is not white, possibly of Hispanic or Arabic origin. The color of his skin is enough to imply guilt for Juror # 10 (Ed Begley), a grotesque racist suffering from a summer cold. Those racist overtones do not sit well with Juror #5 (Jack Klugman) who grew up in the slums of New York and can sniff out the injustice that comes with the city’s skewed socio-economics. He is the quiet juror, the one who passes at first rather than discuss his initial reasons for a guilty verdict. But when Begley goes off on a rant about poor people, Klugman takes a stand and changes his vote.
The rest of the jurors and their attitudes soon become apparent as the movie unfolds. Juror #1 (Martin Balsam) is the foreman who wants to keep order while Juror #2 (John Fiedler) is a passive mousy little man who is cowed into following mob mentality. Juror #4 (E.G. Marshall) relies on hard facts to make his guilty assertion and does not change his attitude until indisputable evidence comes to light towards the end. Juror #6 (Edward Binns) is an amiable working stiff who isn’t too intelligent and trusts his gut. Juror #7 (Jack Warden) is an obnoxious blowhard who is willing to skimp on the truth so he can make it to a Yankees game. Juror #11 (George Voskovec) is an immigrant watchmaker who is compassionate while Juror #12 (Robert Webber) is a dorky ad man who would rather play tic-tac-toe than spend time thinking about the case. Each of the actors instills his role with palatable realism that makes repeated viewings rewarding. We never know their names (except Fonda and Sweeney’s at the end). We just know what little information they are willing to share about their personal lives and watch how it informs their decisions and actions.
Lumet, who died in 2011, would go on to direct more than 40 films including Dog Day Afternoon (1975) and Network (1976), many of which would be about social injustice. He recognizes that our experiences and prejudices make up our worldview and that these inform our daily decisions, even when looking at the same set of facts as someone else. Many of the director’s later films would also take place in New York and deal with the imprecise science of our legal system. 12 Angry Men may be his best film for its decision to avoid cynicism about the nature of man. The justice system may be inherently flawed, but finding justice and truth is the goal of all men. It may take a lot of sweating, shouting and anger, but that intense therapy session not only saved a man from the chair, but saved those 12 angry men from sacrificing someone else’s right to a fair trial for something as trivial as a pair of Yankees tickets or escape from a hot, muggy room. Lumet and his camera trap us in that room as the shots become unbearably tighter and tighter. If that’s the only way to find the truth, so be it. I hope if our lives are ever in the palms of 12 people, they will be willing to take a breath and recognize what is truly important.
