Currently in the West End of London on a limited engagement, following a short tour of the UK, is the stage version of 12 Angry Men (starring Martin Shaw, Jeff Fahey, Nick Moran and Robert Vaughn). Originally a teleplay, based on writer Reginald Rose's own experiences of serving on a jury in a manslaughter case, the film version of 12 Angry Men was produced in 1957.
In what appears an open-and-shut case, a young man is accused of murdering his father. The jury retire to consider their verdict. They are told that their decision has to be unanimous and, if the defendant is found guilty, the death penalty will apply. In the stifling jury room, on the hottest day of the year, the twelve men start their deliberations. Eleven vote guilty; one does not. The scene is set for a tense battle of words and wits which will lay the jurors bare as a young man's life hangs in the balance.
The word 'masterpiece' is often thrown about and often misused but it's entirely justified here. 12 Angry Men is a masterpiece, not only of directing, but of writing and acting as well.
This is Sidney Lumet's feature film directorial debut. He would go on to direct such classics as Network (1976), The Verdict (1982) and Dog Day Afternoon (1975), and continued making films until 2007. Lumet was handpicked by Reginald Rose and Henry Fonda (who also produced the film, marking his first and only time as a producer) to direct. Lumet and his director of photography Boris Kaufman use some interesting camera tricks and perspectives to really heighten the claustrophobic feel within the jury room. All but a few minutes of the film take place outside the room and, at times, you get a sense of the walls almost closing in on the jurors as the tensions erupt. There is some interesting use of close-up (especially during several of the votes) and Lumet gets strong and assured performances from each of the twelve actors.
Whilst the film is ostensibly a battle of wills between two of the jurors, that doesn't mean that the other ten men are bland or just there to make up the numbers. Each one gets a moment to shine and show their acting chops. The jury foreman (Martin Balsam) is accommodating and serious about his role; Juror 2 (John Fiedler) is initially timid but finds his voice later; Juror 4 (E.G. Marshall) is analytical and fact-driven; Juror 5 (Jack Klugman) is sympathetic and from a similar background to the defendent; Juror 6 (Edward Binns) is plain-speaking and respectful.
Juror 7 (Jack Warden) is wisecracking and indifferent, concerned only for his baseball game tickets. Juror 9 (Joseph Sweeney) is wise and thoughtful and the first to change his mind. Juror 10 (Ed Begley) is a loudmouthed old bigot (and one of the most powerful moments of the film comes when the rest of the jurors turn away from him as he launches into a tirade about 'them'). Juror 11 (George Voskovec) is a naturalised American citizen, polite but very firm in his beliefs, whilst Juror 12 (Robert Webber) is indecisive and personable. Through skilful writing and strong performances, each character feels fleshed out and rounded and you get the sense of who these people are with very little to go on- not even names (until the end when Jurors 8 and 9 give their surnames).
The main thrust of the drama is the stand-off between Juror 3 (Lee J. Cobb) and Juror 8 (Henry Fonda). There is a ferocious performance by Cobb, full of ire and vitriol. He remains stubborn and steadfast in his opinion of the defendant's guilt in the face of a strengthening wave of opposition and his clashes with Fonda are riveting. The hints as to what's really going on in Juror 3's mind are subtle and not overplayed (at least, not until the very end) and Cobb proves to be a towering antagonist.
Fonda's performance here ranks among his very best which- for a career that encompasses films like The Grapes Of Wrath, On Golden Pond and How The West Was Won- is saying something. Juror 8 could have merely been played as a bleeding-heart liberal, a saintly do-gooder or moral crusader. There's no hint of sanctimony or piety in the performance; he is a man who simply wants to talk, feeling that they owe the defendent an hour of their time before sending him to the chair. He barely raises his voice, doesn't outwardly scheme or manipulate - he just talks, and the arguments start to fall away.
The film was nominated for three Oscars- Best Picture, Best Director and Best Adapted Screenplay- but was beaten in all three categories by The Bridge On The River Kwai. It remains one of the best courtroom/legal dramas ever made, is currently one of the Top 10 rated movies on the Internet Movie Database, and was selected for preservation in the United States National Film Registry by the Library of Congress in 2007 as a piece of work that is 'culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant'.
Like the current stage version, the film is engrossing and compelling and full of great performances. It's definitely well worth a watch.
Tez
Ahead of the release of Hitchcock, which tells the story of the making of Psycho, it's a good time to go back and take a look at the classic 1960 thriller.
Based on the 1959 novel by Robert Bloch, the story sees Marion Crane (Janet Leigh) embezzling $40,000 from her employer to help her lover Sam Loomis (John Gavin) and going on the run. She stays at the Bates Motel, run by Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins) who lives with his mother in an old house close to the motel. It's a decision that proves fatal... Much like The Exorcist, so much of Psycho has passed into popular culture that it's entirely possible to know the film without having seen it. No more is this evident than in the famous- or infamous- 'shower scene'.
Having decided to return the money she's stolen, Marion takes a shower. Whilst in there, a shadowy figure- Norman's mother- enters the bathroom and stabs Marion to death. Hitchcock plays an audacious twist on his audience by killing off his leading lady so soon into the picture. Up until this point, the story has been all about Marion. We sympathise with her, even if we don't agree with her actions. It's a truly shocking moment when she's murdered- but it's a truly iconic one too. It's a moment that has been referenced and parodied throughout popular culture- there's a particularly elegant pastiche of it in an early episode of The Simpsons. The scene, which took a week to film, features seventy-seven different camera angles. Psycho is filmed in black-and-white so the blood in the shower was actually Bosco chocolate syrup which looks more realistic than stage blood. The sound effects of the stabbing were achieved by stabbing a knife into a casaba melon. Due to the frenetic editing during the attack, you never see the knife penetrate flesh (although it does touch it at one point). The audience's mind does most of the work. There is no truth to the rumour that Hitchcock made the water run ice-cold in the shower to elicit a genuine scream from Janet Leigh. There also seems to be no truth to the rumour that Saul Bass- who storyboarded several scenes and created the title sequence for this and other of Hitchcock's films (Vertigo and North By Northwest)- actually directed the shower scene, although he would have storyboarded it.
One of the integral parts of Psycho is Bernard Herrmann's sublime score. Recorded using only string instruments, it is one of the most recognisable scores in movie history. Despite Hitchcock's objection to there being music in the motel scenes, he soon changed his mind when he heard 'The Murder'- the infamous shrieking strings that accompany the shower scene. Hitchcock later remarked that '33% of the effect of Psycho was due to the music' and reportedly doubled Herrmann's salary to $34,501. The film simply would not have the impact it does without Herrmann's score.
There are strong performances throughout, with Anthony Perkins giving such a brilliant performance as Norman Bates that it nearly ruined his career (as he was constantly typecast). He's nervy and can deliver lines like 'We all go a little mad sometimes' without sounding like a lunatic. Even though he doesn't say a word in the final scene, he is absolutely chilling. Leigh gives a warm and empathetic performance as Marion which makes her demise all the more shocking. Martin Balsam gives a solid performance as Milton Arbogast, a detective who is commissioned to find out what happened to her sister; his murder is another shocking and unsignposted moment. Vera Miles is also strong as Lila, although John Gavin's performance as Sam is a little wooden in places. Simon Oakland's slightly hammy performance as Dr. Richmond in the final scenes also slightly detracts from the explanation he's giving.
The marketing and promotion for Psycho was a masterstroke by Hitchcock. The original trailer was over six minutes long and featured Hitchcock giving a tour of the house and motel, culminating with a shock... Cinema managers were sent large cardboard cut-outs of Hitchcock pointing to his watch with a message stating that 'The manager of this theatre has been instructed at the risk of his life, not to admit to the theatre any persons after the picture starts'. There would be no late admissions to any screening; if you missed the beginning, you simply had to wait for the next screening (a ploy that should be revived today, if you ask me). Newspaper adverts confirmed the 'no late admission' policy, and also asked people who had seen the film not to give the ending away as 'it's the only one we have'. So determined was Hitchcock to preserve the plot that he forbade Leigh and Perkins from doing promotional interviews (preferring to do them himself) and also did not give advance private screenings to film critics- meaning the critics had to line up with the general public to get to see the film. Early reviews were, as you might expect, mixed; but one reviewer- C.A. Lejeune- was so offended by the film, she not only walked out of the screening but resigned as film critic for The Observer.
It was nominated for four Academy Awards- Best Director, Best Supporting Actress for Leigh, Best Cinematography (Black-And-White) and Best Art Direction-Set Decoration (Black-And-White)- but sadly did not win any, although Leigh did win a Golden Globe for Best Supporting Actress. It was also selected for preservation in the National Film Registry in 1992. It's also spawned two sequels- Psycho II (1983) and Psycho III (1986)- as well as a TV movie prequel- Psycho IV: The Beginning (1990)- all of which starred Anthony Perkins. There was also a truly dire, excruciatingly pointless virtually shot-for-shot colour remake by Gus Van Sant in 1998 which is best avoided. A television series, Bates Motel, based on the early life of Norman Bates (to be played by Freddie Highmore) is currently in production.
I had the very good fortune to see Psycho on the big screen in 1998, in an art-house cinema in Cardiff. It was an absolutely thrilling experience. Shocking, tense and gripping, Psycho truly is a masterpiece.
Tez
The main thrust of the drama is the stand-off between Juror 3 (Lee J. Cobb) and Juror 8 (Henry Fonda). There is a ferocious performance by Cobb, full of ire and vitriol. He remains stubborn and steadfast in his opinion of the defendant's guilt in the face of a strengthening wave of opposition and his clashes with Fonda are riveting. The hints as to what's really going on in Juror 3's mind are subtle and not overplayed (at least, not until the very end) and Cobb proves to be a towering antagonist.
Fonda's performance here ranks among his very best which- for a career that encompasses films like The Grapes Of Wrath, On Golden Pond and How The West Was Won- is saying something. Juror 8 could have merely been played as a bleeding-heart liberal, a saintly do-gooder or moral crusader. There's no hint of sanctimony or piety in the performance; he is a man who simply wants to talk, feeling that they owe the defendent an hour of their time before sending him to the chair. He barely raises his voice, doesn't outwardly scheme or manipulate - he just talks, and the arguments start to fall away..jpg)
