“Runaway Jury” (2003) is about the gun control versus gun rights debate. Before this gets your blood boiling by assuming the movie will take one side and yell at you for 2 hours, note that the manner in which the four writers thread the needle to put story ahead of sermon is remarkable.
Director Gary Fleder’s film does take a side – you can guess which one since this is a Hollywood film based on a John Grisham novel — but it’s not preachy. One trick by the writers: They take a step away from the most basic question in the debate: “Do U.S. citizens have the right to self-defense?” The film says “yes” and puts a pin in that one.
Gunning for more nuance
Instead, the question put before the 12 jurors is: “Is this company negligent in selling guns in bulk to a black marketer, who will then sell them to anyone without doing background checks?” I don’t know if corporate gun sellers really operate this way, and “Runaway Jury” has more plot points where I’m not sure if they reflect reality or only the film’s reality.
“Runaway Jury” (2003)
Director: Gary Fleder
Writers: Brian Koppelman, David Levien, Rick Cleveland, Matthew Chapman (screenplay); John Grisham (novel)
Stars: John Cusack, Rachel Weisz, Gene Hackman
But it boasts such brisk thrills – procedural and extra-procedural — that I didn’t have much time to ponder. I do know the film stretches reality on one central point: Massive teams of borderline-legal or illegal operatives work behind the scenes for both sides. Both the side of the plaintiff (a woman whose husband is killed by a gunman) and the defense dig up information on potential (and then seated) jurors.
The trove of information allows for manipulation via blackmail (or worse) if the legal team thinks the juror will not vote in their favor. The plaintiff side in this New Orleans case is led by unfortunately aw-shucks accented Wendell Rohr (Dustin Hoffman); he tentatively allows a hotshot jury consultant (Jeremy Piven) on his team. The defense, led by Durwood Cable (Bruce Davison), employs an illegal, secret-backroom squad of spies and thugs led by Rankin Fitch (Gene Hackman, who should feel at home after “The Conversation” and “Enemy of the State”).
The gun debate is one layer, but there’s a whole ’nother layer about verdict manipulation, and naturally a gun-company-backed defense has more resources for that. Rather than being turned off by “gun makers are evil” propaganda, I was drawn into the movie’s mix of plausible details, only-in-the-movies situations and … one more thing that provides another angle into the events.
(SPOILERS FOLLOW.)
At the end of the first act, we learn that Juror No. 9, Nicholas Easter (John Cusack), and his girlfriend Marlee (Rachel Weisz) are also in the manipulation game, totally freelance. Easter uses psychological tactics on the other 11 jurors while Marlee makes sales pitches to Rohr and Fitch: She can sell them the verdict they want for $10 million. This is even more absurd than the defense’s tactics, but it’s such a gutsy degree of absurd that I went with it.
(END OF SPOILERS.)
Games inside and outside the courtroom
It seems like the writers bit off more than they can chew with the three-way gamesmanship, but the story isn’t a runaway train. Some things fall within the bounds of real-world court proceedings, some don’t, and some are in a gray area – which is also where every character’s morality lies. Perhaps the hoariest thing is that no one wants a mistrial, for various reasons.
Replace these stars with lesser actors and it might become a mess. Hackman brings a lot with his charismatic, emotionally calibrated leadership of the team. He can go a smidgen into anger or frustration and it reads so clearly. Everyone gets near his level; there’s no drop-off when we go to Hoffman or Cusack or Weisz.
The final act blends Fitch’s man in the field with Fitch and Rohr privately mulling how much outside-the-courtroom influence they’ll pursue. And meanwhile the jury debates the issues. They discuss the plaintiff’s morality in seeking a payout as compensation for a murder – but not from the murderer (who is on screen for only a split-second). Tragedies can’t be predicted in advance by a gun seller, and besides, that’s not the company’s duty; pre-crime is the duty of the government, if anyone’s. But on the other hand, flooding the streets with weapons seems a bit crass.
“Runaway Jury” is manipulative here and there, but this never dominates the movie. It’s unrealistic here and there, but that never takes over the movie either. The gun debate cedes room for the surveillance debate. While the film favors the idea of suing product makers and doesn’t grapple with an endgame of a disarmed citizenry, it likewise doesn’t take the position that laws can solve all problems.
Individuals’ thoughts, experiences and values hold the floor more than ugly politics or crass money-making. With some gray-area characters, values, politics and money make for a single complex entity. Despite the high stakes, fast pace, star power and sharp editing, “Runaway Jury” isn’t an off-the-rails thriller; it’s a thoughtful one.