There’s something about older Hollywood that’s always captivated me.
Maybe it’s learning about all the little inside tricks of the trade my brother—who studied to enter the industry—used to grant me with. Maybe it’s that the atmosphere surrounding those films possessed a more subdued message during the infancy of motion pictures.
Or maybe it’s simply that the stars featured on the screen of the 20th century’s most beloved cinematic experiences knew what audience they were catering to.
Back then, the big-time leads—Audrey Hepburn, William Holden, Grace Kelly, Gary Cooper, and so many others that I don’t have time to mention—presented themselves with an added subtle, elegant demeanor. Now, Hollywood is less challenging to become involved in. More recent stars know that they are pandering to a crowd with a statistically shorter attention span.
Old Hollywood films didn’t seem fast-paced or rushed. They lingered around the important pieces of a story without dragging their feet; I’ve found it to be increasingly difficult to find a new movie with a similar feel.
However, my most recent watch, Juror #2, was directed and produced by someone who was an integral cog in the Golden Age of Hollywood, which was one of the biggest factors in my immense enjoyment of it.
In Clint Eastwood’s newest project, Justin Kemp (Nicholas Hoult), a recovering alcoholic and soon-to-be father, faces a profound dilemma while serving as a juror on a notorious homicide case. As the affair is described in greater detail, he realizes that he knows a lot more details about the murder than he originally anticipated. When the future of the defendant, James Sythe (Gabriel Basso), rests in 12 strangers’ hands, Justin begins to question what is morally right and wrong with the information he has.
In more recent years, I’ve learned that one of my preferred genres of entertainment is any courtroom thriller I can find. Although I’m pretty dense when it comes to detailed legal conflicts, there are many films that showcase them in a way I’m able to understand a little better.
This film, despite the fact that a majority of it takes place within a courthouse, deals more with the mental side effects and morality of a crime than the case’s actual evidence. This take’s varying perspective gives a more emotional interpretation of a character than just a superficial facade of facts—an unmistakable sign of Eastwood’s genius behind the camera.
In each of his films, every significant character is given a background, depth, and complexity in a way that made me think about every minute of the plotline differently. From my past experiences with Eastwood’s movies, every added detail has an underlying meaning.
Not only was this film written brilliantly, but the performances were incredible. There are some actors that, no matter how horrible a script is, can make a production worthwhile even if everything around them is ablaze. This ensemble is stacked with award-winning actors, including Toni Collette, J.K. Simmons, and Kiefer Sutherland, who would’ve kept my attention even if everything else was terrible.
Thankfully, it was very well made. I really enjoyed the parallels between the defense attorney’s argument and the prosecutor’s point of view; one of my favorite aspects was the subtle differences between the witness’s testimonies and how that was visually showcased in the flashbacks to the night of the victim’s death.
Even though all of the writing, editing, sound management, and set design play a crucial role in the success of a film, the outcome ultimately becomes the director’s responsibility. At 94 years old, Eastwood just presented what is likely his final project—a perfect addition to the record of silent masterpieces he’s made.