The first yardstick for comparing a new Russian remake with the American original is size.
The classic “12 Angry Men,” written for the big screen in 1957 by Reginald Rose from his teleplay, clocked in at a trim 96 minutes and was set inside a small, steamy jury room.
The remake, “12,” goes over 2 1/2 hours, and places its bickering jury members in a large, airy basketball gym, full of props, with plenty of room to roam around and gesticulate.
Rose’s idea is an unbeatable concept: lock a dozen irritable men in a jury room to hash out the verdict of a crime with social implications, then have one lone juror vote “not guilty.” Commence fireworks.
The strength of this new film, directed by the veteran, Oscar-winning filmmaker Nikita Mikhalkov, is how thoroughly the material has been worked over to create something new and distinctly Russian, while keeping many of the elements, moments and characters from the original.
The crime in question is the murder of a Russian man whose adopted teenage son, a Chechen, is accused of the crime. This is a loaded topic for a Russian film, and Mikhalkov intensifies the argument by including scenes of warfare and carnage in Chechnya.
Each jury member gets to grandstand, telling stories and creating tension in the group.
The chief anxiety-maker, a raging and intimidating anti-Semite who longs for the good old days of Russia for Russians, is brilliantly played by Sergei Garmash, an experienced Russian actor who should be on the short list for the next James Bond villain. The lone holdout voter (the Henry Fonda part), is played by Sergei Makovetsky.
Director Mikhalkov himself takes the role of the jury foreman, who is mostly quiet until the final reel.
If you like the lean approach of Sidney Lumet’s 1957 version, you might be put off by Mikhalkov’s tendency to let speeches run on. The film takes too long to get to the point — and the point is obvious when you get there.
But the broad style is intended to shake the Russian audience by the lapels. This is Mikhalkov’s portrait of a Russian society, distilled into these twelve not-especially admirable men, that is pulling against itself in too many different directions.
The film is thick with heavy-handed symbolism and direct address to the viewer, yet somehow the darned thing works. It’s very Russian, which Reginald Rose probably never suspected when he wrote it.
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