12 Angry Men

Sidney Lumet’s stirring motion picture about injustice, 12 Angry Men, was released in theaters in 1957, after incarnations on the stage and television. Written by Reginald Rose, the film follows a jury’s deliberations over the guilt or innocence of a young man charged with stabbing his abusive father. The original dozen “angry men” were white, reflecting the reality of America’s judicial system in the Eisenhower-era, even in New York City, where the story is set. (When it was restaged for television in 1997 -- several black men were on the jury panel and the judge was a woman.) The accused, a young man of unspecific ethnicity, is seen only at the beginning of the film as the judge, in an oddly insouciant manner, gives the jurors their charge. This indifference is the earliest suggestion that something is amiss.

Juror #8, played by the ever-earnest Henry Fonda (who also produced the film with Rose), lets his fellow jurors know that he is not interested in rushing things. He wants to talk about the case. A boy’s life is at stake. Most of the other jurors display a detachment from the defendant that mirrors the judge’s; they resist the call to talk but cannot return anything less than a unanimous decision to the judge. Slowly, with Juror #8’s patient prodding, they examine their own assumptions and biases, and the “shadow of a doubt” begins to descend.

Juror #8’s prime nemeses during the deliberations are an inflexible brute, Juror #3 (George C. Scott), and an elderly bigot, Juror #10 (Ed Begley). Rose puts words of such hateful trenchancy in these men’s mouths that compassionate viewers will likely feel shame for them rather than anger. At one point near the end of the film, Juror #10 rails against “scum” with such vile contempt that the other men rise and turn away from him. It’s an elegant moment that, typical of Lumet’s best work, is powerful because it is understated.

This remarkable picture's commentary about prejudice and conscience is just as searing today – maybe more so, in light of recent events in Ferguson, Missouri, and Staten Island, New York. Despite the weightiness of the issues raised in 12 Angry Men, the film never preaches. It pricks, leaving the heavy lifting to the caring viewer's own conscience.