Jury No. 2.
Photo: Claire Folger/Warner Bros.

Clint Eastwood always had one of the great faces in cinema, so it makes sense that at some point he became one of our great face directors. It seems ridiculous to talk about Eastwood’s “late style,” since the man has been in a late style for the past 30 years. unforgivable It was the elegiac work of an aging icon recalling a long and varied career; that was 1992. Yet in recent years, as his films have become even more minimalist and settled into a contemplative austerity, he seems more content simply to let us look at the people he presents on screen.

Faces are important because that’s where the real drama lies. In Jury No. 2Eastwood, now 94 years old, offers us a legal thriller that could have roughly come out of an airport paperback. (As far as I can tell, it’s not based on anything, but an enterprising editor could probably make a quick buck by novelizing Jonathan Abrams’ script.) While ideas of guilt and innocence have animated many eventful stories over the years, their value here lies primarily in their emotional cost, in the way they tear people apart from within.

Chief among these people is Justin Kemp (Nicholas Hoult), a journalist and recovering alcoholic who has just been chosen to serve on a Georgia jury that will hear the case of James Michael Sythe (Gabriel Basso), an abusive oaf who is being tried for murder. An ambitious assistant district attorney (Toni Collette) wants to convict Sythe of killing his girlfriend, Kendall Carter (Francesca Eastwood), on the side of the road one rainy night after a drunken fight. As the case progresses, Justin realizes that he, too, was at the bar that night, sipping an unsipped whiskey and flirting with a relapse. And on the way home, he crashed his car into something he initially thought was a deer, but could very well have been Kendall. It’s a great high-concept setup: Can our hero, who is the real culprit, save an innocent person’s life (and his own soul) by convincing his fellow jurors to acquit the man?

Troubled studio Warner Bros. has received some deserved criticism for its dismissive treatment of Jury No. 2. He has given the film minimal marketing and will release it on a small handful of screens with no obvious expansion plans; Interestingly, he also doesn’t plan to report the film’s box office, which is either a preemptive admission of defeat, a dig at the media, or possibly both. Given that Eastwood has for many years been one of the company’s most prized figures (it was once rumored that he and Stanley Kubrick were the only two directors Warner deigned to do the final cut), this seems particularly silly. But it also makes sick sense, given that Eastwood, for all his genre credibility and iconic stature, is one of the few major filmmakers left making studio-funded adult dramas. To the modern studio executive, it must seem like a glitch in the matrix: not an artist to be protected, but a mistake to be corrected.

Plus, he’s working in a worn-out genre. When courtroom dramas ruled the country, they served as ideal canvases for reassuringly suspenseful narratives. The legal thriller focused on someone who cheats the system: corrupt politicians, murderous gangsters, sleazy lawyers, etc. – but the system generally prevailed. The powerful were the villains and could do a lot of damage, but these films demonstrated a quiet faith in American institutions. The truth would eventually come out; Justice would be served, even if it took a few extra tries and a couple of bodies. If we want to talk about why legal thrillers aren’t as successful as they used to be, we should look no further than our own growing cynicism about the effectiveness of such institutions, whether the cynicism is justified or simply fashionable. Jury No. 2 It is the work of a man who has not completely lost that faith; features an entire scene in which jurors are shown an instructional video, complete with American flags, about the justice system and the role they play in our democracy. But this is also a movie about how the system can fail even when everyone is doing their best. It’s designed to deny us the satisfaction of seeing a villain get his comeuppance, simply because there isn’t any.

This is not a movie about rushed deadlines, dark investigations, narrow escapes and courtroom chaos. It is one of long close-ups, of internalized torments and doubts. As the slow agony of guilt courses through him, Justin’s world remains largely placid, if impatient. His wife (Zoey Deutch) is about to give birth and wants him by her side during a high-risk pregnancy. The other members of the jury want to return home to their families and, furthermore, this Sythe character seems quite guilty to them. Rival lawyers argue fiercely in court, but they are also college buddies who like to relax together with a drink after work. Sythe’s lawyer (Chris Messina) is genuinely convinced that his client is innocent, but we don’t sense that he’ll be too devastated if he’s fired. Jury No. 2 suggests that there is still a purpose in institutions, but in some ways it is the most damning of legal thrillers: one that suggests that miscarriages of justice happen not by evil figures pulling the strings behind the scenes, but by ordinary people who They make common mistakes because life gets in the way. . And yes, perhaps there is some irony in the fact that the man who was once Dirty Harry has now made a film about the dangers of hasty judgment.

The generally admirable simplicity of Eastwood’s approach leads to errors. Several times, characters say that they can tell that Sythe is innocent just by looking into his eyes and listening to his testimony. That requires a more resonant interpretation than the functional one Basso offers; Maybe “One-Take Clint” should have given those moments a few more tries. But otherwise, the director gets excellent work out of his cast because he gives them space and time. Eastwood’s slow gaze allows the humanity of the characters to shine. His style may be simpler, but his generosity as a filmmaker, his willingness to embrace the complex and the open, has never been more evident. Jury No. 2 It is a good entry into the career of a great director. It’s a shame that most viewers don’t even know it exists.