By Graham Amodeo
With the release of a Blu-Ray version of 12 Angry Men, it is worth revisiting this film, which was part of last year‘s Forum Film Festival. U.S. Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor even said that this film had an incredible influence (click on the link and scroll down to her video) on her legal career.
Sidney Lumet’s 12 Angry Men presents an interesting example of the points at which the law and morality diverge. The divergence occurs in what one might think would be an unlikely location: a jury deliberation room. In the film 12 strangers, pressed into public service as jurors, attempt to decide the fate of a young man who is accused of murdering his father. In the process, a legally “correct” result (12 jurors agreeing as to guilt or innocence) nearly results in a moral travesty, until the morally righteous (and nameless, until the very end of the film) protagonist intervenes.
Initially, all but one of the jurors have convinced themselves that the defendant is guilty, despite clearly having failed to weigh the evidence, being preoccupied with other matters, and allowing prejudice to guide their decision making. The nameless protagonist, portrayed by Henry Fonda, demonstrates considerable moral courage by insisting to his colleagues that they take the time to weigh the evidence properly, even as the crowd urges a quick verdict of guilty so that they can proceed with more important things (such as that night’s ball game).
If we assume that the law-school notion of the “reasonable man” test is accurate, and thus that in a given group of people, the majority of them will behave reasonably, then 12 Angry Men illustrates that the staple of law school torts classes is indeed a low bar to satisfy.
In this jury deliberation room, the majority of the people are arguably acting “reasonably” in that they are performing the task assigned to them with minimum effort. Only Fonda’s character, however, is willing to do the morally right thing; to thoroughly examine all the evidence to try to determine what happened on the night in question. In fact, Fonda’s character’s insistence on doing the right thing elicits complaints from his colleagues and suggestions that he is being UN-reasonable.
Of course, in a moral sense, Fonda’s character is the only one being reasonable, by refusing to convict a defendant based on flimsy evidence and prejudice, or at the very least, attempting to thoroughly delve into the case to determine the truth. Luckily for the defendant in this case, Fonda’s character is able to convince his cohorts to follow his lead. How often are similar scenes repeated in jury deliberation rooms, and how many times is a morally righteous individual absent?
Tags: 12 Angry Men, film, Sidney Lumet, Sonia Sotomayor
Among the eighty or so law movies that I know of, I have to say that this is my favorite. It is reason unbridled, doubt portrayed in its essence and the strength of faith. To me, these things make 12 Angry Men so great. It’s because the movie comes from the theater stage (it was adapted from the same-titled play) that the actors’ performances are so vivid and profound.
In these 12 men’s display, and in each of their personalities and character traits, I feel we find an aspect of ourselves. Not in so much that the accumulative result makes for one whole, but we as human being are not harmonious all of the time. We often contradict what we do, what we say, how we feel and how we behave around others. These twelve represent that, from the absolute logic second last dissenter, to childish baseball fan to the polite Austrian and prejudiced old man.
What’s great about Fonda’s character is that he urges, almost necessitates, for all these different personalities to engage in a discussion with each other. Nonetheless, Fonda does not set any substantive threshold that his fellow jurors have to achieve. He’s only concerned about a right procedure.
Graham writes that Fonda’s character is morally righteous and in a sense he is. He does the right thing by forcing his colleagues to think a little more about what they are doing. Or as Graham writes, to thoroughly examine all the evidence to try to determine what happened on the night in question.
However, by focusing on procedural justice, or the path you have to take to find the truth most earnestly, Fonda is not actually concerned about really finding the truth and achieving a just result and resolution. He is not sure whether the boy is innocent of patricide or whether he is a cold blooded murderer. He does care though, but it must be remembered that Fonda is not a moral advocate or even a moral conscience. He’s just a moral voice, a man guided by his own conscience and concerned about doing the right thing – but till an extend. He is not willing to be the only dissenter and fight for the cause on a lonely island of morality, amongst a vast ocean of legal injustice.
He is only involved about making a fair attempt at the task at hand. Being ‘morally righteous’, let’s say, talking about men like Atticus Finch or Martin Luther King, Jr., is a whole different ballpark. For instance, would Fonda’s character takes a stick of dynamite to his house, a brief opener to his chest, a lifetime of humiliation and still love his enemies and insist on scrutinizing the evidence? Or would he become his counter player, Mr. ‘You’re damn right I’m excitable!’.
Therefore, I invite Graham to explain further what he means with morally righteous.