Chris Eldon Lee reviews “Twelve Angry Men”, which is at Birmingham Repertory Theatre until Saturday 19th October 2013.
In the mid 50s, American screenplay writer Reginald Rose was called up for jury service on a manslaughter case. The trial was interesting enough, but the jury room debate climaxed in a furious 8-hour argument between twelve angry men.
The first law of successful writing is to ‘spot a good story’ and whilst Rose’s subsequent film (starring Henry Fonda) was not an instant commercial success, the script has endured and is now in the hands of a dozen animated actors at Birmingham Rep. And boy, do they get convincingly angry!
I have fond childhood memories of TV’s Perry Mason. The old black and white films were filled with twisting court cases and testimonial tension. What we rarely saw was the jury’s deliberations. Christopher Haydon’s hot, sweaty, grainy production takes us ‘backstage’ and opens up a whole new discussion about how jurors absorb information and then distort it with their own prejudices. It’s a gripping and pertinent play, despite the decades.
The case is that of an unnamed, unseen, 16-year-old boy accused of stabbing to death his own violent father on the seedy side of town. The voice of the judge booms over the opening curtain, “First degree premeditated murder, with a mandatory death sentence. Good luck gentlemen, I don’t envy you your job”
Leading the line is Juror 8, an architect, played by Martin Shaw. In a Martin Bell white suit and hair to match, he has “reasonable doubt” about the boy’s guilt and – compelled to persuade the other 11 likewise – unpicks the shoddily conducted court case for us. The witnesses were elderly. It was dark. Did they hear right?
Shaw is powerfully engaging in this. Playing ‘Mister Reasonable’ most of the time, with occasional bursts of barely controlled indignation, he cunningly manipulates his fellow Americans. He reveals redneck tendencies and a Klu Klux Klan approach to race relations amongst the bullies – and sows civilized uncertainties within the minds of the professionals. Considering we only get snapshots of their personalities, the writing and playing of the various characters is compelling.
The father of the house is Juror 9 (we never learn their names) played by an infirm, silver-haired Robert Vaughn. It’s great to see him still on stage at 80 and there were flashes of brilliance. Whilst he also missed cues and took prompts (the rest of the cast seemed ready for this), somehow it didn’t matter too much. Shaw generously applauded him at the curtain call and there was a sense of privilege about the occasion for cast and customers alike.
I loved the clackerty-clack of the passing elevated trains, and how the gathering storm fuelled fraying tempers, and the ever-so-subtle way the stage gently revolved. The designer might have done more to concentrate the claustrophobia (the set is very open plan) but otherwise the production team gave the actors great service; providing real rain and dusky lighting which added to the really steamy, angst-ridden atmosphere.
The process of law is doubtless much more diligent today. But still mistakes are made and there are still stories of cover-ups, corruption and incompetence. So not only is this an excellent night in the theatre, it’s also a polished mirror, to be reflected upon with all due respect.
Visit www.theatreonthesteps.co.uk for information about Bridgnorth’s Theatre on the Steps.
Photo by Robert Day