The first time I encountered the film or play, I was a freshman in high school. Somewhere amidst the tales written by old English bard types and fancy lads, this was tucked in our broad books of literature. I remember enjoying the fact that no one was named, and that it must make for a really cheap film with 99% of the movie all taking place in a small, simple room. Little did I know there actually WAS a film…well, atleast until our teacher showed it to us. And so my love affair began.

The cast was strong. A room full of people that make you wonder where you had seen them before, and lead by the ever likable Henry Fonda. The film came out shortly after the play (the film ‘57, the play ‘54).

I think what strikes me about the film is how it compares to modern film. Its not just the small things done cinematically that really resonate with me (though the shots are exquisite, starting with wide, panning shots of jurors and by the end typically zooming in, giving nearly claustrophobic close-ups, as a great example). The “good ol’ days” tended to have films with very clear themes, protagonists and antagonists struggling with a warm fuzzy feeling in the end. I didn’t live through the era, I don’t know if people liked their B&W movies to have B&W themes. In fact, I’m not even totally sold on older movies being clear cut…but I think its hard to argue that compared to how are dramas are now-a-days, we like the lines blurred more now. Many ambiguous movies and TV shows can be found just channel surfing these days. 12 Angry Men had some clear cut themes, but some catches.

The general plot line? One vs. everyone. The democratic process at work. America at its finest, man dressed in white, a nameless hero, standing up for justice. The entire movie is based around this point. The characters are cookie-cutter cut-outs. I can remember a line that is supposed to be amusing, as a man who is clearly supposed to be a foreigner, corrects a stubborn juror’s English grammar. But what can get lost in all of the feel good fun, the Frank Capra It’s A Wonderful Life type goodness, is that Henry Fonda, playing the rebellious juror who stands alone at the beginning in his “not guilty” vote. Juror 8, to be specific.

Juror 8: It’s always difficult to keep personal prejudice out of a thing like this. And wherever you run into it, prejudice always obscures the truth. I don’t really know what the truth is. I don’t suppose anybody will ever really know. Nine of us now seem to feel that the defendant is innocent, but we’re just gambling on probabilities – we may be wrong. We may be trying to let a guilty man go free, I don’t know. Nobody really can. But we have a reasonable doubt, and that’s something that’s very valuable in our system. No jury can declare a man guilty unless it’s SURE. We…can’t understand how you…are still so sure. Maybe you can tell us.

Two things that are note worthy about this speech. One, it admits the fault in that feel good feeling that everyone rooting for “good guy” Juror 8 has been helping swell within us. After nurturing that feeling that one person can make a difference, Juror 8 himself admits that we might be just screwing it all up. WHAT?!? Not what I wanted to hear! And yet…is it true? Can our good intentions lead us astray? Ok, so this thought doesn’t really sneak up on us. Juror 8 says time and time again that he isn’t saying the accused is innocent, merely that we can’t be so sure. And we never can be. Struggle as we might, we can lose our baseball tickets, our pride, or anything else we have to lay on the table. None of that will help. We can only hope that, in general, what we good we try to do is doing just that, good. People will take advantage, people will be wrong, but we MUST be willing to screw up in order to stick to our values. Now that’s a message.

The other interesting note, which is a re-occurring theme, is where the burden in proof lies. The end of the quote puts the people holding out on a “not guilty” vote on trial. If there is an antagonist amongst these twelve angry men, it is found in juror #3. Bull-headed, and having made up his mind when he first put eyes on the suspect. Lousy, no good type of people, someone you wouldn’t around in your community, and all that jazz. He must convince Juror 8 and all of his posse that we can trust our gut. We can’t always give benefit of the doubt, or no amount of evidence will ever be enough. I love juror 3. Mostly because I think of him and reading the newspaper now-a-days. Looking at the Barry Bonds types, the OJ types, the Enron types. One never knows where they can find justice, but if given the chance, leap at it! Atleast that’s what I think of when it comes to juror $3. But I have digressed. The burden of proof, according to our judicial system, lies upon the accuser. But as the this 1957 jury room shows, all too often is that far from true. I jumped to the end with that quote, but at the beginning, it was not up to the 11 guilty votes to convince the 1 non-guilty vote…but it was up to juror 8 to defend and explain why he was where he was. The above list, in particular all sports allegations, tend to result in us loving the gossip and the build up more then due process. We love villains, in our movies and in real life, and as such if voices are raised to discredit you, don’t wait around to see if there is a fire with that smoke. Even if its just smoke, its enough to get people to view a situation differently.

Again, I digress, I’m plugging my way through the final season of The Wire, and nothing portrays the battle of people trying to live vs. other people trying to live better than The Wire. Speaking of which, I think I shall continue to plug my way though it. But know this; 12 Angry Men manages to use all of your favorite cliched devices and characters to create something that resonates in the mind and keeps you intrigued until the credits roll. Check it out.