







Ever get the impression there is precious little law and order in the US, but rather a free market of individuals suing each other within a system balanced in favour of protecting the interests of the rich and well connected against the little guy? Well, so says Sidney Lumet's classic Hollywood courtroom drama.
It's a typically liberal and sincere exposé by Lumet of US medicine, but mostly of the legal system and the many impediments to justice. It's also the best performance of Paul Newman's life as the disillusioned, alcoholic lawyer who gets a shot at redemption when he represents the victim of a botched operation.
There are a couple of clunky narrative gear changes but it would take the most inflexible of realists to complain. This is more about the emotional ride, and- for me- a betrayal that haunts my memories. David Mamet's script is intelligent and pithy and hard-hitting, but not above pitching straight to the heart.
And at the climax, almost as a bonus, there's an overwhelming cameo from Lindsay Crouse as the surprise witness. This is one of the greats of American cinema because it confirms our certainty that the whole human casino is fixed... but then appeals to our most tenuous dream that a fairer deal is possible.
This is a mature courtroom drama that doesn’t beg for your attention—it earns it. Lumet turns the room into a squeeze: bodies arranged like barricades, a question left hanging a beat too long, and you feel the power shift without anyone spelling it out. It’s Lumet revisiting the pressure-cooker trick of 12 Angry Men: there the jury-room walls close in; here, the courtroom does, and the verdict starts to feel like a physical object.
Deborah Ann Kaye is left comatose after an anaesthesia error during childbirth. Frank Galvin (Paul Newman) is a lawyer in freefall, reduced to handing out business cards at funerals, until Mickey (Jack Warden) pushes him a malpractice case that “should” settle. Her family wants money for care and a bit of peace. Galvin wants justice—plus delay, risk, and a trial that turns stability into a moving target.
James Mason’s Concannon makes that choice feel expensive. Newman is superb—frayed, stubborn, intermittently decent. Rampling has less to play, but she and Newman are all eyes. It’s about justice as self-respect: costly, exhausting, and worth fighting for anyway.
If you were subjected to countless John Grisham films in the 90's you might not need to see this.
Highly rated, certainly at the time, but I can't see anything particularly unique about it now.