Juror #2, the newest film from iconic screen actor and revered movie director, Clint Eastwood, has been pushed out to a measly 50 screens across the United States over the weekend. The decision from Warner Bros. ' hapless head honcho David Zaslav is as much a mystery as the film’s court case - a homicide with loosely strung together reasons to indict James Sythe (Gabriel Basso) in the murder of his girlfriend Kendall (Francesca Eastwood). These reasons quickly fray when Jonathan Abrams’s rightfully entertaining script introduces one of the year’s best-selling points for a movie: Kendall’s murderer may very well be one of the jury members involved in the court proceedings. The titular juror is played by a never better Nicholas Hoult as a recovering alcoholic and father-to-be, Justin Kemp.
Juror #2’s electrifying elevator pitch is taken to remarkable heights with Eastwood’s wisened reliability, Abrams’s politically attuned timeliness, and a melting pot filled to the brim with stars and familiar character actors are the defining touches in one of the finest American films of the year. One that tips the scales of justice with the burdens of guilt atop shoulders that shimmy through reason with an objective too blunt to forget. Yet, it is one that invites the perspective of an all-knowing witness who must approach the suspect through the imperfect constitutions of law and order.
At 94 years old, Clint Eastwood has seen enough of the world, starred in a plethora of roles, and made plenty of movies to know what he means to multiple generations of moviegoers. His cobalt eyes darting across the horizon in Sergio Leone’s Westerns, gravelly voice in Dirty Harry and Gran Torino, and the classical storytelling techniques in his directing style have illuminated how the vision of American values has shifted through the decades. Whether he embodied a man aging out of the landscape that put him on the map, or gave an audience new reasons to go to the movies because of his name, Eastwood has been rewarded for his ability to observe and report. He’s enjoyed the luxury of Academy Awards and box office smash hits (his most recent success coming a decade ago with American Sniper), and yet he never strayed from his voice.
In the decade since American Sniper, Eastwood has directed a selection of films focused on isolated moments in American history. Sully, The 15:17 to Paris, The Mule, and Richard Jewell are recent (and as of then, relatively current) events that Eastwood has managed to turn into cinematic expressions of ideas that often contradict, or call into question the image of American values. Every choice in these films may not be a great one, but he takes modern moments of heroism that challenge the very idea of masculinity his roles happened to perpetuate throughout the last 40 years of the 20th century. He’s aged into an honest, often somber soul that reckons with male identity in a cinematic climate informed by the pressure points of political practice. Juror #2 is anything but a “late-style film” - a troubling blanket statement attributed to age over the definitive wonder of craftsmanship that has long defined an exemplary career. This makes Zaslav’s embarrassing rollout of one of the year’s absolute best films an insult to Eastwood and the mostly full auditoriums that are filling up the few screens it’s playing on.
It doesn’t take too long to realize Juror #2 is in the hands of someone who knows what they’re doing. A title card overlaid on a sketch of a blindfolded Lady Justice smoothly transitions into an extreme close-up of Jim guiding his wife, Ally (Zooey Deutch), into their baby’s bedroom with a blindfold on. Eastwood evokes Lady Justice on multiple occasions throughout the film, but none so apt and clever as the first image. He sets the stage for his characters to resemble images of justice in action, and the truth they supposedly embody will eventually fade into reality. Cinematographer Yves Belanger exposes the truth through harsh lighting techniques that often feels like he’s shifting a spotlight onto the characters at their most vulnerable. Against the deep mahogany chambers of a courthouse, Belanger can deftly explore points of contention with a personalized bias that confirms the judicial system is a contradictory operation. An operation well-worn and beautifully structured is challenged by the very people they rely on to bring the truth out from the shadow and into the light.
The story pivots from documenting the case with broad expressions of impending guilt to a bottleneck thriller in the vein of Sidney Lumet’s 12 Angry Men. There, in 12 Angry Men, the case is reexamined by a jury prepared to get it over with and mark the teen guilty. Until Henry Fonda (Juror 8) challenges the idea the teen may not be guilty based on the evidence. Unlike 12 Angry Men, there is an additional dimension in Juror #2 that amplifies the personal stake through Eastwood’s investigation of Kemp’s attempt to rationalize his secret. But his secret is also the truth, and this operates as the runway to reveal he isn’t the only juror acting on confirmation bias. Eastwood humanizes Kemp by not totally justifying him, but in elevating the supporting cast alongside him.
In a moment where tensions are running high as the jury has yet to reach a verdict, Kemp argues with Marcus (Cedric Yarbrough) until Marcus confesses why he believes Sythe is guilty. It’s an outstanding scene that shows how their lives outside the case are a vital component in influencing the decision to indict Sythe in the murder of his girlfriend. This is an opportunity for Eastwood to explore the pressures of guilt and the application of bias as a gateway for the truth to reveal itself the further the tension is provoked. Although the jury members can’t bring the case outside the room, they can’t help but bring their personal lives into the case to influence their decisions. This structural contradiction embodies Jim’s interest in attempting to do the right thing while also staying out of the spotlight at every turn of the narrative. Jim’s attempt to reciprocate second chances is undone by the negligence toward his actions. He’s constantly trying to get out of the corner he finds himself in because his best interest has only been rationalized by himself. Although he seeks the help of Larry Lasker (Kemp’s AA sponsor and lawyer played by Kiefer Sutherland), Larry’s responses are practically an indictment of Kemp. Lasker also represents a person who exists in the image of the law, as well as the belief in second chances Kemp holds himself to. Kemp confessing his sins to a lawful figure who helped him out of the hole he was in is another instance of the truth always finding its way out of guilt and shame.
Juror #2 has remarkable character work thanks to the controlled performances of the entire cast, but it’s Eastwood’s ability to navigate every character’s life outside the case with a vital presence in the narrative. The audience is given plenty of opportunities to see these characters as people – unique in their own right so we may not convict them of being unjust caricatures meant to serve a singular thematic point. Eastwood opens the doors for interpretation in guiding the story through Jim to eventually position Toni Collette’s prosecuting lawyer, Faith Killebrew, opposite the types of people she intends to put away. This case “is her campaign” as she’s on the cusp of being elected as the next D.A., and her attempts to politicize (see: sensationalize) the law are brought down to Earth by Kemp’s attempts to flee justice. Eastwood doesn’t let her off easy by mirroring her arc with Jim’s, and in a stunning, almost breathtaking moment, he settles on a beat for Killebrew to stew over her choices to get to this point, and what comes next if she settles for unsatisfactory justice. She, like Jim, is constantly working in self-interest, but her political status puts her in pole position to believe she can’t succumb to guilt as easily as those she works toward putting away.
Comments