12 Angry Men (Criterion review)

It seems apt that following on from the release of Little Odessa, a directorial debut that feels way too assured to be a debut, that Criterion would release 12 Angry Men, perhaps the greatest ever feature debut from a director.

Sidney Lumet is another director who never really gets his due, even though he was responsible for a handful of the greatest films ever made, from instantly recognisable titles like Dog Day Afternoon, Network and Serpico, to lesser known, but equally brilliant titles like The Verdict, The Hill and Prince Of The City. Even after this incredible career though, 12 Angry Men might still be the best film he ever made.

It’s such a well known premise now that explaining the story seems almost unneccesary, but here goes. A teenaged boy is on trial for stabbing his father in cold blood, in what looks like an open and shut case. The jury certainly seem to think so, but when they take a ballot, there is one juror, played by Henry Fonda who votes for innocent. As the debate becomes more and more heated, Fonda tries to convince the others that the tower of evidence leaves room for reasonable doubt.

When I saw the film, Fonda struck me as almost too perfect to be realistic. On a rewatch however, it becomes apparent that his characterisation as some kind of moral crusader is a bit of a misnomer. He is simply uncertain of the boy’s guilt, and doesn’t want to condemn the boy without discussing the evidence first. He’s also flawed – as eloquent as he is, there are a times where he can’t answer other juror’s points, particularly EG Marshall’s clinical, emotionless stock broker, and the debate only continues because of one final hail Mary; where he offers to change his vote if nobody will stand with him. If not for the open-mindedness and integrity of the other jurors, the film would have been very short indeed.

It’s remarkable that Lumet was able to make twelve men arguing in a single location feel so cinematic. The cast is phenomenal, the characters completely distinct, each one with a different perspective. On this watch, the standouts were Jack Klugman as the juror from a similar background to the defendant, George Voskovec as the softly-spoken, humane watchmaker, and best of all Lee J Cobb, who gives one of the most powerful performances in cinema history. His juror is filled with self-loathing over the deterioration of his relationship with his son, and redirects this anger towards the defendant. Fonda offers an object lesson in persuasive public speaking when he addresses the room, but when their roles are reversed, Cobb does the complete opposite. His speech is less an argument about the case than a thinly veiled diatribe about his own inadequacies. Fonda is perfect as the hero, but Cobb arguably has the harder job, playing a character who has to give a speech that is both impassioned and utterly unconvincing.

That being said, it’s the ensemble rather than any individual performance that makes the film hold up so well. They bounce off each other effortlessly, with little verbal tics and overlapping dialogue feeling so natural that the film never feels stagey despite the single set. The one exception is the room’s reaction to Ed Begley’s bigoted rant – as the other jurors turn their backs on him, simply refusing to engage. It’s a slightly stylised, theatrical moment which is commendable, but stands out amid the realism of the rest of the film.

Lumet’s direction is unobtrusive, but there are little flourishes that gradually increase the intensity as the film goes on. There is almost no music, but Lumet utilises the diegetic sound, especially the rain outside, to add to the atmosphere. He also deploys tighter close-ups in later scenes, making the jury room feel ever more claustrophobic.

The result feels surprisingly timeless. There are obvious issues with Fonda’s actions if you examine the film as a realistic depiction of jury procedure, but the drama is impeccable. It’s also full of iconic moments – the second switch knife, the single bead of sweat, the second ballot. It’s rare for a film to accomplish so much drama in just one set.

Nearly seventy years later, 12 Angry Men remains not only a great courtroom drama, but a masterclass in direction, ensemble acting and cinematic storytelling. At a time when the role and function of juries is once again being debated, there may be no better time to reacquaint yourself with the importance of this essential step in the legal process, in a film that understands that justice isn;t simply about reaching the right verdict, but about questioning whether you’ve reached it for the right reasons.

★★★★★

Special Features | Aside from the 4K UHD remaster (which looks fantastic) the special features are all carried over from the Criterion Bluray. These include interviews with Sidney Lumet, screenwriter Walter Bernstein, cinematographer John Bailey and Ron Simon, curator at the Paley Center for Media the television version from 1954 that led to the film being made, the production history of the film, “Tragedy in a Temporary Town” another teleplay directed by Sidney Lumet and written by Reginald Rose.