For better or for worse, “Runaway Jury” is an
extremely historic film, even if it’s not an extremely good
one. In the same way “Heat” paired Al Pacino and Robert
De Niro together for the first time (They were never in a scene
together in “The Godfather, Part II.”), “Runaway
Jury” does the same for Gene Hackman and Dustin Hoffman.
Unfortunately, their interaction is less than inspiring. Their
mandatory scene together, set in the bathroom of a Louisiana
courthouse, ends with Rankin Fitch (Hackman) telling Wendell Rohr
(Hoffman) that he doesn’t care about the implications of his
actions, although Fitch’s language fits the location a little
better. It’s the stuff film school students will debate and
analyze for years to come, but like Fitch: “I just
don’t give a shit.”
The quote is out of context, of course, but can still be applied
to much of the film. A perfectly adequate thriller adapted from a
John Grisham novel, “Runaway Jury” is at once thankful
for its predecessors and immediately doomed by them. Director Gary
Fleder clearly knows what makes a good Grisham adaptation
enjoyable, but at the same time, it’s still a Grisham
adaptation. How new can one source be?
This story centers on a lawsuit against a major gun manufacturer
over responsibility for a shooting in which a failed day trader
takes out most of his office. However, as even the title points
out, very little of the film focuses on the trial. It’s the
jury that’s important. That’s where Fitch, a highly
regarded jury consultant, comes in, hired by the gun manufacturers
to help pick jurors who would be inclined to vote for the defense
team.
Everything seems to be going fine until a renegade juror (John
Cusack) plans to spin the jury himself, to either side of the case,
for a price. His name is Nicholas Easter, and his last name is an
annoyingly obvious metaphor that foreshadows the number of rebirths
in the film.
In prosecuting the gun company, Celeste Wood (Joanna Going)
hopes the world will remember her murdered husband, whose spirit is
supposed to somehow rise from his grave. In successfully spinning
the jury, Easter hopes his bank account will become a Lazarus of
his own.
However, Easter’s past is foggier than San Francisco in
July, and not until his Shrek-like layers are lifted can his real
motives be discovered. That process takes up most of the
film’s narrative, as Fitch scrambles to keep control of the
jury.
Most of Hackman’s lines seem to come in the form of his
trademark intense speeches. This time, the speeches are made to his
team of jury consultants, although “˜stalkers’ might be
a better word.
Hackman seems completely at ease in his role, as do Hoffman and
Cusack in theirs. Apparently, one of the good things about making
another Grisham film is the moral singularities of the characters.
Everyone is either good or bad, although which side they are on may
not be clear at first.
However, one thing is obvious from the opening minutes of the
film: You’re not going to see anything in “Runaway
Jury” you haven’t seen before, with the exception of
the pairing of Hackman and Hoffman. And while they’ll
certainly be remembered for a long time to come, it won’t be
for this film.
““ Jake Tracer