By Todd Garbarini
I
did not see William Friedkin’s version of Reginald Rose’s 12 Angry Men
when it premiered on Sunday, August 17, 1997 on Showtime, although I wish that
I had as it would not have seemed as dated as it does today. Like many other
fine dramas, 12 Angry Men originated as a 1954 teleplay for Studio
One and starred Norman Fell and Robert Cummings. The following year it was
staged as a play and finally directed as a film by Sidney Lumet in 1957 in
arguably its finest incarnation starring Henry Fonda as the lone juror out to
debate the fate of a teenager who may have killed his father in a moment of
rage. That star-studded interpretation bolsters excellent camera work and highly
lauded acting and makes for gripping cinema as Mr. Fonda attempts to get eleven
other jurors to reconsider their positions on whether the teen should be
convicted of murder and potentially face capital punishment, or if he should be
acquitted should there be reasonable doubt of his guilt. Forty years later, the
most obvious changes are in the casting. This time around, the judge is a
female (Mary McDonnell) and the jurors, unlike in Mr. Lumet’s version, are not
all white. Several of them are African-American and they come to blows with
each other at times. Jack Lemmon, who I loved as Shelley “The Machine” Levine
in Glengarry Glen Ross (1992), is Juror #8 who decides to stand against
the mob mentality that is comprised of Courtney B. Vance who I first saw in Fences
on Broadway in 1988; Ossie Davis who was wonderful in Spike Lee’s Do The
Right Thing (1989) as Da Mayor; George C. Scott who I loved in Patton
(1970) and The Changeling (1979); Armin Mueller-Stahl who played the
Nazi guard/grandfather in Music Box (1989); Dorian Harewood who played
Eight-Ball in Full Metal Jacket (1987); James Gandolfini who appears to
be auditioning his Tony Soprano accent; Tony Danza (yes, that Tony
Danza!) who is amusing as the juror itching to get to a ball game; Hume Cronyn
who was brilliant in The Gin Game (1981); Mikelti Williamson who I loved
as Al Pacino’s sidekick in Heat (1995); Edward James Olmos who was
creepy as Gaff in Blade Runner (1982); and William Petersen who was
never better than when he played Rick Chance in To Live and Die in L.A.
(1985).
For
those who have seen the 1957 film, everything from the film’s opening to the
poignant denouement are identical, so there are no surprise twists or changes.
This version is nearly a scene-for-scene remake, and it is shot on video rather
than film. The scenery is such that it replicates the deliberation room and
gives the feeling of the audience watching a play up close and personal. For a
remake, I would have thought that forty years hence would have made some
considerable alterations in the way the jurors speak to one another. Aside from
the inclusion of a few expletives to demonstrate the easing of social
conventions that have, incredibly, branded the film with a PG-13 rating, the teleplay
sticks almost verbatim to the 1957 film while managing to pad out the running
time to 117 minutes, a full 21 minutes longer than Mr. Lumet’s version. Even
1976’s All the Preseident’s Men with its multiple F-bombs, dropped
however casually, managed a PG-rating. The opportunity to update the story with
discussions of murder and justice, especially coming on the heels of the
explosion and proliferation of televised court proceedings and crime-based
television shows, the Rodney King beatings, race relations and the burning of
Los Angeles in 1992, and the O.J. Simpson trial, is all there for the taking
but is blatantly and noticeably eschewed. The lack of cell phones and the absence
of the then-six-year-old World Wide Web is also jarring as they were becoming
prevalent at the time of filming.
12
Angry Men is now available
on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber and is the most bare-bones release that I have seen
from them. The disc’s sole extra is the requisite trailer, this one for the VHS
release of the film. Mr. Friedkin has provided some terrific commentaries in
the past, most notably on The French Connection (1971), The Exorcist
(1973), and the aforementioned To Live and Die in L.A., and I would have
loved to have heard his thoughts on this release as he is such an entertaining
and informative speaker.
The
viewer has the choice of watching the film in either 1.33:1, which is the
original analog television aspect ratio, or 1.78:1 for anamorphically enhanced
high definition televisions.
It
has been twenty-five years since this version originally aired, and we are in
desperate need of 12 Angry Jurors comprised of men and women from
diverse ethnic backgrounds with the inclusion of examples of and discussions
regarding forensic science, computers, and DNA. The story needs relevance and a
much-needed facelift so that a fitting update is truly possible.
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