Random thoughts, ho!

Lumet operates his cuts with searing calculation: there is always a reason why a cut ends and another begins. This economy becomes evident when following a juror around the room: Lumet will move his camera in varying ways to maximize emotional impact: from moving to a medium-close up, to a master, or to a new establishing shot of the jurors in new positions in the room. In examining his cuts, Lumet displays that nothing goes to waste. There are no throwaway moments in this film, nor are there throwaway postures, positions, lines, or scenes. 

Due to this expediency, the drama of the script becomes centerfold. Lumet posits to the audience, perhaps in irony, that the halls of justice in which these 12 men reside and deliberate, are halls of the “firmest pillar of good”. Yet, in our first glimpse beyond these pillars, we see a bored and trite judge, a dispassionate and detached lawyer, and a scared and anxious young boy. Upon first settling inside the juror’s room, we witness prejudices, insecurities, misgivings, fallacies, and grievances. 12 Angry Men is clearly a deconstruction of this “firmest pillar of good”.

Lumet reminds us often of the wavering balance in which this boy’s life hangs. “Give this case to another jury, and they’ll find him guilty in a heartbeat,” juror 6 says. The reading of this line makes it clear that we are not to doubt his words. Though juror 6 may merely be remarking that the boy is so clearly guilty, that any sensible jury would find him guilty, a subtler, more sinister truth lies beneath: any other jury may be so convinced with the appearance of this boy’s guiltiness, that they would be quick to reach a verdict, without thoroughly examining the evidence. Assumptions would abound to this hypothetical other-jury, much like they did with the real jury.

On to Lumet’s trademark directorial style: Lumet loves letting his actors act. Though the camera is very dynamic and active, he gives his actors room to deliver these showcase, bravura sequences (Fonda’s “10 second” EL train argument, for example). He always employs his shots judiciously, including close-ups. Very gradually, as the movie progresses, the camera moves closer and closer to the actors, emoting tension and claustrophobia. He appears meticulous in his staging and blocking, as well. Not once, on screen, does an actor sit idly, or appear to have nothing to do. This active realism dissolves the boundaries of fiction and truly immerses the audience in the picture. I could say other things, I suppose, but let’s leave this for Kenny. Peace!

Also, just wanted to note that each of the jurors themselves can serve as a character study of sorts. The timid become temperamental, the aggressive become afraid, and the confident become insecure. Henry Fonda and the reluctantly self-appointed leader are the only two characteristic through-lines.