12 Angry Men (1957)

 

This is one of the most stressful movies I've ever watched, and it's worth every one of the hairs standing at attention at the back of my neck. For a film that's nothing but a bunch of men arguing with each other in a locked room, 12 Angry Men is suspenseful, thoughtful, and attention-demanding, supported by twelve powerhouse performances.

This film follows twelve jurors tasked with determining the guilt of a young man from the slums, who has allegedly murdered his father. The judge imposes the standard of reasonable doubt: if there is a reasonable doubt about the boy's guilt, the jury must come to a verdict of not guilty.

And so it begins. Henry Fonda plays Juror 8, at the start the only juror who questions the assumptions of the other men that the defendant is guilty. He demands discussion before a verdict is reached, and as he argues his case, the biases and interests of the other eleven men emerge: the man who grew up in the slums and doesn't take kindly to prejudice against "slum kids"; the business owner estranged from his son and who is heavily vested in a guilty verdict; the salesman who would rather be at the baseball game he's missing. Twelve men, twelve perspectives, twelve reasons to vote one way or another. What will they do?

What makes 12 Angry Men significant?

Considered one of the greatest films ever made, 12 Angry Men has a je ne sais quoi that its later adaptations just do not. It stands alone as an achievement of storytelling and cinema, and attempts to duplicate or replicate it have, in my opinion, failed to capture the same magic as the original (no matter how well they performed in other respects).

That's also not to mention the picture's impressive trophy case: three Oscar noms, four Golden Globe noms, a BAFTA award for Henry Fonda (plus another nom for Best Film), and a host of other awards. It also ranks on an impressive number of AFI 100 Years...100 Movies lists, including as the second-best courtroom drama ever made (after To Kill a Mockingbird). Juror 8 was ranked on the list of top heroes, and the film itself ranked on AFI's 100 Years...100 Cheers and 100 Years...100 Thrills.

But more than anything, more than the accolades, more than the performances, it's the story that makes this one stand out. It is a testament to the beauty (and the flaws) of the American justice system, and it encourages everyone watching to ask themselves the all-important question, "Why do I believe what I believe?"

My favorite moments in 12 Angry Men

• The knife. Oooh, when that switchblade clicks open, you can practically feel the tension in the room. The intensity is almost unbearable.

• Juror 3 changing his vote. Juror 3 is so confident at the start, and it's fascinating to watch the cracks appear in his facade, exhilarating to see them spread out until at last he crumbles, unable to sustain his own anger.

In conclusion

As a courtroom drama, 12 Angry Men is a must-see: a departure from the tradition of showing actual courtroom procedure (a la Anatomy of a Murder), this movie painstakingly details what happens behind closed doors. As a film in general, it should be required viewing as an important (and increasingly relevant) lesson in the imperative nature of questioning ourselves and our biases.