12 Angry Men

Critiqued by Holly Bartges

12 Angry Men is not only a major big-time winner for Spotlight Theatre Company, so is the John Hand Theatre. Sherman Sergel’s stage adaptation of 12 Angry Men marks Spotlight’s debut at The John Hand as its permanent home. It’s a winner for John Hand and a feather in Spotlight’s crown.

Spotlight Theatre’s 12 Angry Men. Photo by Brian Miller

With an awesome gangbusters cast, Linda Suttle directed the stage adaptation of Reginald Rose’s Emmy Award winning television movie.

The fate of a 19 year-old Puerto Rican youth, accused of knifing his father to death, lies in the hands of 12 Jurors, on a hot day, in a bare room with very little circulation. No big deal. This is a slam-dunk affair. All they have to do is vote, and they can be on their way. It’s obvious from the testimony the kid is guilty. A neighbor heard the youth shout at his father, “I’m going to kill you.” Another neighbor, disturbed by noise opened his door to see the young man run down the stairs.

Facing the empty room, the audience hears the Judge’s (John Jordan) cautious instructions to the Jurors that the defendant is innocent until proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. Weary, hot, eager to get on with their lives, the 12 men file into the austere room. Just by looking at them, it is evident these men have very little in common. There’s no doubt in their mind. Let’s get on with it, The Foreman, Juror #1, Bernie Cardell, calls for the vote. To everyone’s surprise, it’s not a slam-dunk after all. The verdict is 11-1.

Thoughtful, pensive, showing a cold sweat apprehension, Juror #8, Paul Page, thinks they should discuss the case. Maybe they shouldn’t be too hasty with a decision affecting a young man they’ve never met. The one non-guilty vote uncovers each man’s story.

With a less experienced cast, and less definitive director, 12 Angry Men can, and has become, a numbing experience, leaving one to ponder, “Let’s see we’ve heard from four, how many more to go?”

Not with this cast bringing forth their definitive created character in full force. Deciding an intermission would interfere with the dramatic progression, Suttle keeps the show running straight through for 93 minutes. It was a wise choice. The intensity of the jurors heats up the barren room as they confront innocuous questions catapulting into personal confrontations with each other and with themselves.

Suttle spent nearly a day deciding how to position the table for the Jurors to be best seen. Ultimately it took center stage perpendicular to the audience. With a washroom off to stage right with a cut out wall, the audience observes the disarming agonized expressions captivating the jurors through the tortured impatient process. Her use of the John Hand stage was brilliantly delineated for jurors to move about, confront each other with piercing steel eyes and sharp biting words. The direction each juror took proved natural for each character. Each personality carefully defined in every nuance of body language.

Juror #7, Rick Bernstein, has tickets that night for a coveted game. As the clock ticked out hot minutes, it became clear those tickets weren’t going to be used by him or anyone else. In apathetic disgust he slowly tears them. Of course, the kid is guilty as his mistrust toward foreigners leaks through his pores.

Christian Mast, as Juror #6, shares that mistrust of foreigners, in a down-home country attitude, sporting a sly, silly grin in attempt to cover his true feelings. He gives the impression he would like to be everyone’s pal, knowing that isn’t possible.

Cautiously, Juror #8 probes the question. Another vote is taken. This time it’s 10-2. Juror #3, Robert Kramer, a hot headed bully admits in the midst of his own self-constructed fireworks works he is estranged from his own son, demands to know who changed his vote. Hesitantly, Juror #9, Roger Simon, admits he did. Simon adopts the persona of a lonely old man, obviously not wanting to make waves. The questions gnaw at him. He can’t make the reasonable doubt stick. Standing there beside the table, lost in his private thoughts, Simon nearly breaks the heart as the character slowly, quietly reveals the source of his own demons, that he’s an insignificant old man. He’s nothing.

As one question digs into another, revealing still yet another question Juror #3 (Kramer) allows his hot head to control him.

Juror #11, Albert Banker, clings to the infallibility of the law. If the boy was arrested, he had to be guilty. So there.

Juror #4, Rich Beall, advocates detached deductive reasoning. Remaining objective, he keeps a cool head. He’s heard the facts. The decision remains obvious to him. An advertising man, Juror #12, Aaron Carnevale, can’t comprehend anything he can’t package and sell.

Juror #4, Chris Bleu, a victim of the streets, identifies with the boy, counts on his guilty vote to distance himself from his own past.

They remind each other to act like gentlemen, and not take the questions and discussion personally. Not getting involved personally does not seem to be an option. This element is one of the high points setting apart this production. As the jurors allow the questions to dig under the skin, audience members can’t help but wonder what would it be like if they were part of this jury? Would they remain objective? Would the timing, the hot room, and the dissention affect them? It takes a top-notch cast to dissolve the fourth wall extending the heated scenario into the audience.

Jess Pearlman, Juror #10, clings to a mistrust of foreigners, impatient, listening in spite of himself.

Juror #2, Bob Leggett, doesn’t want to make waves, even though it’s hot in the room, complains about the breeze blowing through the open window. In a meek, uncertain voice falling into a whine, he wants the window closed. One of the others offers to change places with him. He doesn’t want to complain, at the same time giving the impression he complains a lot, maintaining an obvious element of control over little things that don’t matter, eating away at the bigger things he doesn’t have the courage to face.

Time ticks on. The skies darken. Thunder roars. Lightening streaks across the one window. Clouds empty built up reservoirs. The jurors look and act as though they are the ones on trial as bagged self-doubts clamor for attention.

Juror # 8 continues to probe the questions. Even in the heat of disagreement, truth ekes out with facts not before considered. Did the woman really hear the boy say I’m going to kill you? Was it possible for the old man to get to his door in time to see the boy in question run down the stairs? The actors disappear. The personalities of the jurors stand front and center. Even for those familiar with the play become thoroughly engaged with the compelling growls and snapping. The actors give the characters depth and windows into each soul. You can read their thoughts, observe their personal torments, even when it’s a superficial irritated inconvenience.

For those who know the play and know how it turns out, the actors make it so believable you almost expect surprises.

Whoa! Maybe the play has been re-written. It takes a grand strong artistic cast to plant that thought in anyone’s head. They do it. And you’re not sure you want to breathe in case you miss something. Some want an easy way out. A hung jury would solve that problem. Some don’t want to put their name on the line. Some don’t dare go thorough the inner doorway to the soul, anxious over what they might find. Others struggle in silence.

Spotlight accomplished a masterful production. As the jurors examine themselves from superficiality to honest head on agonizing truth, silent questions are raised that go far beyond the possibility of a boy knifing his father to death. Not to be missed because of the penetrating, gripping, relevant nuances speaking directly to today’s issues. Not to be missed because of the realistic characterizations displayed by the awesome cast.

12 Angry Men
Adapted by Sherman Sergel; Based on the Emmy award-winning television movie by Reginald Rose; Directed by Linda N. Suttle