The Verdict

Frank Galvin (Paul Newman) is a down-on-his luck, alcoholic lawyer in Boston.  In the past three years, he’s had four cases and spends most of his time either at a bar playing pin ball and shooting whiskey or peddling his business cards at funerals.  When a friend gets him an easy hospital negligence case, it becomes a chance at redemption for Frank.

Four years ago, a young woman was given the wrong anesthetic while going into labor and has been a vegetable in a coma ever sense.  Her sister and brother-in-law are seeking justice from the Catholic hospital.  We get the feeling that the hospital and  archdiocese have something to hide, especially when they’re willing to settle.  This should be an open-and-shut case for Frank, earning him enough money to let him drink away the rest of the time he has left.

Going to trial is more important to Frank than settling, he even turns down a settlement of two hundred thousand dollars.  He seems to be risking everything for his own chance to prove himself to himself.  But for that selfish moment for redemption, has he underestimated his opponent, defense attorney Ed Concannon (James Mason), and put his trust in an enemy?

While all this sounds interesting, I think there are a very select few who would really enjoy this movie.  You see, it’s very quiet and its action consists of tense quiet moments, conversations and the subdued intensity within the courtroom.  To many, The Verdict would be two hours of quiet boredom.

However, I found a silver lining to all this quietness and found myself surprised at how tuned in I was to every word, action and soft sound presented.  I think that’s what viewers are supposed to do here, it’s like we’re listening for something important on a radio that keeps fading in and out.  There are many slow and quiet moments for us to focus all our senses on.  In one amazing shot, Frank is watching a couple Polaroids he just snapped of the victim in a coma develop.  They slowly come into focus and color, and the camera doesn’t look away.  All we hear is the quiet hiss and pump of the machines keeping the coma ward alive.  The longer we watch, wait and listen, these sounds become deafening, yet they aren’t really rising.  The Verdict is full of moments like this, where we wait, watch become enticed and agonized wanting that pin to drop and break the tension lingering in the air.  Though I would not recommend this film to the masses, those who find an appreciation for courtroom dramas, Sidney Lumet’s work and what I’ve described here are encouraged to seek The Verdict out.

“You guys… you guys are all the same!  The doctors at the hospital, you… it’s always what I’m going to do for you.  And then you screw up, and it’s, “Ah, we did the best that we could, I’m dreadfully sorry.”  And people like us live with your mistakes the rest of our lives.”

12 Angry Men

Less is more.  We’ve all heard this bit of banality at one point or another, but these days it might be hard to actually experience it.  There are camp sights with Internet access and most people find their way there using a GPS, probably built into their car.  We just don’t take the road to minimalism often enough.  That’s especially true in today’s film industry.  We’re now transported in 3D to entire planets created by computers with a twelve dollar ticket stub and extra buttered popcorn.  But in 12 Angry Men, all we have is a dozen men in a small room trying to come to a verdict.

On trial is an eighteen year old Hispanic boy, raised in the slums with a criminal record already.  He’s accused of murdering his father.  Now the jury must decide whether or not to send the boy to the electric chair.  As they assemble in the cramped 16 by 24 foot room, it sounds like they’ll be out soon.  Most men have made up their minds, one even has tickets for a ball game that evening.  But Juror #8 (Henry Fonda) looks out the window thoughtfully before they assemble to vote.  He becomes the only man to vote not guilty.

Fonda proceeds to lead the men back through the evidence and one step at a time they find inconsistencies.  This quickly becomes one of those films where you are just glued to the screen.  As the men discuss the evidence, certain men bring their own experiences and prejudices into both helping and hindering the progress.  An older man is able to help us understand how an elderly witness may have unknowingly mislead the trial.  Another is able to offer knowledge from his own experiences from the slums.  But it seems that some men just want to watch the young man suffer.

Director Sidney Lumet had an ingenious camera trick to give the film a more claustrophobic feel as it progressed.  In the beginning of the film, he positioned the cameras higher than usual and used wide-angled lenses to make the space within the room feel more spread out and distant.  As the film goes on, the cameras move lower, there are more close-up shots and telephoto lenses are used to make the space feel more cramped.  The trick is so subtle and blended with the heated plot line that you’re not likely to notice unless you are looking for it.  Nonetheless, I do believe this technique does an effective job of pulling the viewer closer and engaging them within the film.

There needed to be an award for best acting ensemble.  The twelve men here move the film all on their own.  Together they drive the plot along at perfect pace and toss the dialogue back and forth, not just to shed more light on the trial, but to reveal hidden characteristics and motives within each other.  Fonda does control a lot as the leader, but it is the eleven men around him that make this film such a compelling uphill battle depicting the importance and power of a jury.

I don’t know if much of our younger minded generation would enjoy 12 Angry Men.  The biggest special effect, is when we see it start to rain out the window.  The greatest action is held in the most compelling of arguments.  The characters don’t even have names, just faces and opinions that form and mold around their own sense of duty or vengence.  But I’d applaud any youngster who would try this simply powerful film over today’s typical sensory overload blockbusters.

“It’s always difficult to keep personal prejudice out of a thing like this. And wherever you run into it, prejudice always obscures the truth.”