A Masterclass in Screenwriting

If there is one thing that films often lack, especially in the twenty-first century, it is a solid script. One classic motion picture that demonstrates a near perfect screenplay is the iconic 1957 movie 12 Angry Men.

The film, which was based off a teleplay written by Reginald Rose (who also wrote and produced this film) that aired on CBS three years earlier, is directed by legend Sidney Lumet (in his film directorial debut). He transports us up the stairs of the courthouse, down the hall and into the room where the trial is just concluding. After we hear the judge give his final instructions to the jurors, we follow the twelve men into the average sized room where they will have to come to their decision on the hottest day of the year. It is here that we stay for almost the entire picture, which to some may sound boring, but in actuality, is enthralling – demonstrating that solid characters and a good premise can be just as exciting as CGI any day.

The jurors, who are not named, each surmise that the young Puerto Rican man is guilty of murdering his father, that is, other than Juror #8 (Henry Fonda – who also produced the movie). This man believes that they should not send the eighteen year old to his death without at least discussing the possibility that he is innocent. Though he has no concrete proof that the defendant did not do it, he has a sense that there is a chance that things may not be as perfect as the prosecuting lawyer would have them believe. Most of the men react harshly to the sole naysayer, especially Juror #3 (Lee J. Cobb), Juror #4 (E.G. Marshall), Juror #7 (Jack Warden) and Juror #10 (Ed Begley).

The uniquely carved knife, which is the murder weapon, is of special importance to the case, yet when Fonda’s character reveals that he purchased the exact same switchblade while walking around the defendant’s neighbourhood, he throws a minor hitch into the supposed open and shut verdict. As the new knife does not seem to sway anyone, the lone man makes a deal that he will join the group in declaring that the defendant is guilty if they are willing to submit to a secret ballot in which they must state their true feelings without the peer pressure of the group influencing them. If even one other member votes not guilty, they will explore the situation further. The elder juror, #9 (Joseph Sweeney), agrees with the man and the rest of the jurors are forced into prolonging the discussion process.

Rose’s script has so many things going for it. Watching Fonda stand for what he thinks is right, no matter how vicious or impatient the others are to rush to a decision (be it due to baseball tickets, racist views or evidence), is something to behold. Though our protagonist is not an underdog superhero or a cowboy who must defend a village from a bunch of outlaws, it does not feel like the stakes are any less important in this situation. The dire predicament of a man’s life being on the line is intensely powerful. We then observe each and every point from the trial being scrutinized until an ulterior perspective is given that may lead to reasonable doubt. It begins with the knife, but each and every piece of evidence that follows, from the two eyewitnesses and the movies that the supposed murderer cannot remember (as that is his alibi), to the utterance of a death threat heard earlier in the day and the angle of the stab wound, is examined and discussed in such a clever way that we are drawn further and further into this intriguing story. Of equal ingenuity is the way in which topics initiated earlier in the script come back up in unbelievably clever ways, proving or disproving previous supposed facts.

Then, there is also the superb grouping of character actors. Fonda is memorable as the lone dissenting voice. The elderly Joseph Sweeney, who is first to aid the solitary juror, is both a touching and fragile voice in the room. Cobb is excellent as the loud-mouthed and explosive man who has already made up his mind. E.G. Marshall is both strong-minded and confident in his thinking process, making him a quietly powerful voice in the room. John Fielder, who is Juror #2, is the perfect meek man. Jack Warden’s character, who is more interested in making the ball game than coming to the proper decision, is also a treat to watch. He is both cocky and wishy-washy, which adds to his rather shallow persona. Begley does a strong job as the clearly racist man who is fighting off a cold, while George Voskovec and Jack Klugman are interesting counterpunches as a thoughtful immigrant and a man who also grew up and has lived in the slums (much like the defendant). Robert Webber, who is Juror #12, is a light-hearted advertising man who is more interested in discussing his work and playing games than realizing the gravity of his duty. Martin Balsam, who is Juror #1, plays the level headed man who is in charge of the process within the locked room, and finally, Edward Binns rounds out the cast as the rather simple working man.

The ending of the motion picture is a memorable one. It demonstrates that we should stand for what is right, despite how many adversarial voices may be against us. It is also refreshing to watch a film that does not actually divulge whether the defendant is guilty or not (as all that really matters is the decision that is made behind the closed doors). As we watch Fonda and Sweeney’s characters walk down the majestic courtroom steps into the rainy evening, the two shake hands and exchange names, adding a final human touch to a story, that, despite having no names up til that point, was all about humanity.