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New, Old Movie Review: ‘12 Angry Men’ (1957)

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New, Old Movie Review: ‘12 Angry Men’ (1957)

This classic is an important movie for parents to watch with their children for many reasons.

Many centuries ago, Aristotle explained that truth is the mind’s conformity with reality. Defining it is simple; it’s practicing truth that can prove difficult. On a social scale, truth can prove uncomfortable, especially in a world that sometimes demands nonconformity with the most basic of realities. On a personal scale, truth can be obstructed by the lies we tell ourselves about ourselves and about others. 

Nature seeks truth, but nurture is another matter. Nurture — or the failure to properly nurture — can create prejudices and false biases. And these can not only blind us to truth, but wreak havoc on those around us. This is a vital lesson, and I’ve rarely seen it illustrated better than in 1957’s 12 Angry Men.

Though the film broadly fits into the courtroom trial genre, it begins with a twist: we don’t see the trial at all. The story begins at the point where a somnambulant judge is giving instructions to the jury. The bored judge explains that this is a murder trial and that a guilty verdict carries a mandatory death sentence with no chance for clemency. After that, the jury of 12 men walk into a private room to begin the proceedings. Although the jurors don’t realize it at first, each of these 12 men is about to find himself on trial.

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Within just a few minutes, they take an early ballot. Eleven men vote “Guilty.” One man, portrayed by Henry Fonda, votes “Not guilty.”

One juror is particularly annoyed at Fonda’s vote, and doesn’t mind telling him: “Boy, oh boy! There’s always one!”

The jury foreman is polite but condescending: “Perhaps if the gentleman down there who is disagreeing with us … perhaps you could tell us why. You know, let us know what you’re thinking and we might be able to show you where you’re mixed up.”

As each man takes his turn explaining why he voted guilty, it becomes clear that some are afflicted by a blinding bias or outright racism. Outraged that Fonda’s character has had the temerity to suggest that the accused teenager might be innocent, one juror launches into a tirade: “You’re not gonna tell me we’re supposed to believe this kid, knowing what he is. Listen, I’ve lived among them all my life. You can’t believe a word they say. You know that. I mean, they’re born liars.”

The operative word in this sentence is “THEM.” But THEM does not just refer to race for all of the jurors. For some jurors, THEM is poor people; for others, THEM is foreigners, or old people or teenagers or tough kids. We progressively discover that, for one juror, THEM is his own son.

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Somewhere in his past, Fonda’s character might have had a THEM, but not by the time we are introduced to him in the jury room. He’s grown sick of the tragic hatred of rash judgment toward others. Fonda fires back to a fellow juror: “I’d like to ask you something. You don’t believe the boy’s story. How come you believe the woman’s? She’s one of THEM too, isn’t she?”

As the story progresses, Fonda implores the jurors that what is considered rock-solid evidence might be only built on sand. The question is whether some of the jurors’ biases will allow them to question what they desperately want to believe.

One of the great geniuses of the movie is that some jurors are not motivated by hatred or even dislike; rather, they are simply attempting to find the truth. They discover that truth can be hard to find, even if you are making a sincere effort to find it. There is a moment in which E. G. Marshall’s stockbroker character sees the truth, and rises above his pride to embrace that truth. Every time I watch that scene, I get a lump in my throat.

The movie also contains a powerful message of forgiveness to one’s enemies. You and I need to hear that message. Years ago, I confessed to my spiritual advisor that I like arguing. He assured me that arguing, per se, is not sinful. Arguing is not necessarily unjust or uncharitable (although those vices can often arise). But he also gave me a piece of advice that I’ve always tried to remember and employ: After the argument, make sure you part as friends. This movie reminds me of my spiritual advisor’s counsel. It’s one I have taught my own children, having watched the movie with all of them. When they’re arguing, I often say, in reference to the film: “Help the old man put his jacket back on.” You will understand what I mean after watching the movie.

I first watched this movie with my dad on a lazy summer afternoon when I was a young teenager. After I saw the first few minutes, I was convinced it would be boring. By the time the ending credits rolled, I was fascinated by the legal system. Since then, I’ve seen the movie at least 30 times. In fact, I try to watch the movie every year to remind myself of the importance of seeking truth — especially difficult truths I’d rather not see.

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This is an important movie for parents to watch with their children for many reasons, but perhaps most of all to illustrate the devastating nature of racism.

There is a narrative that everyone in America is racist; there is a competing narrative that no one is racist. We should object to both narratives because both are wrong. The first view is despairing, as though there is no escape from hatred. But the truth is that God grants us both the free will and the grace to rise above racism — which makes it all the more troubling when one refuses to accept that grace.

But it is absurd — dangerously absurd — to claim that no one is racist. Over the years, I’ve heard my share of racism against various ethnicities. I didn’t hear much racism against Mexicans growing up, but such racism has certainly come into vogue, largely through the broken window of politics. In recent years, I’ve heard friends and associates make demeaning comments to me about Mexicans, which only seem to subside when I inform them that my wife is ancestrally Mexican — and thus, so are my children. Thus, I appreciate this movie on a very personal level.

We parents do not have the luxury of raising our children in an honest world. But you and I can be — we must be — personal examples of both truth and charity. And being that example must entail this: a moral outrage when dishonesty and racism and THEM-ism are championed. Viewing 12 Angry Men with our families can be part of that process.

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Movie Reviews

Dea Kulumbegashvili – 'April' movie review

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Dea Kulumbegashvili – 'April' movie review

From the very first frame of Dea Kulumbegashvili’s April, an inexplicable sense of dread and unease takes hold. The opening moment feels like a sharp intake of breath that stays trapped inside you, forcing the audience to experience the same helplessness, scrutiny, and fear as the film’s protagonist, Nina, an OB-GYN who provides abortions for women in her rural Georgian town. After being questioned for delivering a stillborn baby, Nina’s practice comes under intense scrutiny, as she tries to persist in her duties despite the risk to her career.

April is a vital and unflinching look at the ways women suffer under the patriarchy, with Kulumbegashvili forcing our gaze toward the insidious modes of oppression that make women prisoners within their own bodies. The film opens by contrasting two images: a naked, grotesque-looking monster—something notably female but stripped of obvious human qualities—and the sight of rain hitting tarmac. The tonal clash between these two sights, the unnatural and the natural, captures the jarring visceral power of April and its central message, drawing a stark line between the forces of nature that lie within our control and those that strip women of their right to choose.

Within the current arguments around abortion (which is insidiously still seen as a controversial and debatable human right), some people paint the idea of pregnancy and motherhood as an entirely natural and inevitable experience. However, April shows an alternative and ominously present reality in which she contrasts the serenity of the natural rural landscape with stifling images of Nina performing abortions on the women around her, with one of them being a completely static shot that lasts nearly fifteen minutes as she performs the procedure on a young teenage girl who a family member has sexually abused. Pregnancy is not an experience chosen willingly by many of the women in the town, with Nina encountering underage girls who are forced into marriage and motherhood, quietly being stripped of their autonomy and turned into slaves of the patriarchy. 

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Each frame is haunted by an omnipresent feeling of violence, with still shots of thunderstorms and drooping flowers evoking an inescapable feeling of dread. Natural sights are turned into monstrosities at the hands of Kulumbegashvili, who infuses a sense of foreboding into every image as they become reflections of Nina’s powerlessness in helping these women and the looming threat that their freedom will be diminished by the end of the film.

Nina’s anxiety is characterised by the sight of the monster that opens the film, with the sound of its wheezing breaths being present throughout the entirety of the film, reflecting the depths of her despair and feeling of being trapped by this malignant force, doing everything in her duty to counteract its command while also being stuck in its web.

There is a moment in the film where you learn that the story takes place in 2023, emerging like a punch to the gut as you realise that this story is a reality for an increasing number of women. Motherhood is depicted as a primal and natural force, but Kulumbegashvili shows just how severely cruel and oppressive this force can be, continuing one long and oppressive life cycle that is violent and ultimately, life-destroying for too many women.

April highlights the consequences of the war on reproductive rights through her unflinching attack of the senses, with the female body becoming a powerless vessel that our eyes desperately try to escape, lingering inside our skin as we are immersed in the true horror of this fate

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Mohanlal Thudarum Telugu Movie Review, Rating

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Mohanlal Thudarum Telugu Movie Review, Rating
Movie Name : Thudarum

Release Date : April 26, 2025
123telugu.com Rating : 2.75/5
Starring : Mohanlal, Arjun Ashokan, Shobana
Director : Tharun Moorthy
Producer : M. Renjith
Music Director : Jakes Bejoy
Cinematographer : Shaji Kumar
Editor : Nishadh Yusuf, Shafeeque V. B.
Related Links : Trailer

After starring in the massive and controversial film L2: Empuraan, Mollywood star Mohanlal takes a different path with a small movie called Thudarum. Released simultaneously in Malayalam and Telugu, here’s our take on the film. Read on for the full review.

Story:

Shanmugam, known as Benz (Mohanlal), is a middle-class taxi driver who treasures his black Ambassador car, treating it almost like a family member. He leads a content life with his wife Lalitha (Sobhana), son Pavan (Thomas Mathew), and daughter (Amritha Varshini). One day, when his car meets with an accident, the mechanic misuses it for illegal activities. In a desperate bid to reclaim his only source of livelihood, Benz approaches SI Benny (Binu Pappu). However, CI George Mathen (Prakash Varma) intervenes, setting off a chain of strange events. Benz is then asked to drive the officers to a wedding and later to a deserted forest area, where a shocking revelation awaits. What exactly happened, and are the officers involved in something more sinister? Thudarum unfolds the answers.

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Plus Points:

Mohanlal is in top form yet again, delivering a deeply nuanced performance. He perfectly captures the simplicity and quiet dignity of an everyday man, effortlessly drawing viewers into Benz’s small world.

Especially in the second half, his restrained emotions and expressive acting stand out, reminding us once again why he remains one of the finest actors in Indian cinema. His commitment to the role, never once playing it like a ‘superstar’, reflects the respect he holds for his craft.

Prakash Varma is a revelation as a shrewd, calculating officer. His portrayal is so convincing that it evokes genuine anger from the audience, which speaks volumes about his performance.

Despite limited screen time, Sobhana leaves a lasting impact with her composed and graceful presence. Binu Pappu, Thomas Mathew, and the rest of the supporting cast also do a neat job in their respective roles.

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Minus Points:

The story treads familiar ground and doesn’t offer much freshness. It’s a narrative that seasoned cinephiles would easily recognise. Writer K R Sunil and director Tharun Moorthy could have worked on a more layered and unpredictable script to truly elevate the experience.

The first half, although it sets up the premise, gradually loses momentum and feels sluggish after a point. Even after the interval, the film takes time to pick up pace again. This uneven narrative flow might test the patience of some viewers.

While it is commendable that the film avoids mass commercial elements like exaggerated action scenes and punch dialogues, the absence of high-voltage moments also leaves certain sections feeling a bit dry.

Several moments in the film might remind viewers of similar stories in the genre, and the major twist is not too hard to guess. A stronger and more gripping screenplay could have avoided the feeling of déjà vu.

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Technical Aspects:

Tharun Moorthy shows flashes of skill in his direction but struggles to maintain a consistently engaging pace. A racier and more gripping narrative could have made a significant difference to the film’s overall impact.

Shaji Kumar’s cinematography is appealing, capturing the moods and settings effectively. Jakes Bejoy’s background score complements the story well, enhancing key emotional moments without overpowering them. However, the editing leaves room for improvement, particularly in the first half where tighter cuts would have made the film more crisp and engaging.

The production values are decent, and the Telugu dubbing is fairly acceptable. However, a glaring issue is the Telugu version itself – the movie title is misspelled compared to how it was originally promoted, and several spelling errors appear even in the opening credits. This reflects a clear lack of attention and interest from the team behind the Telugu release.

Verdict:

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On the whole, Thudarum is a modest revenge drama elevated mainly by Mohanlal’s heartfelt performance. However, the predictable storyline, sluggish pacing, and lack of major emotional peaks prevent it from reaching its full potential. It is a watchable film if you are a Mohanlal fan or appreciate slow-burn dramas, but for general audiences, it is advisable to keep expectations in check.

123telugu.com Rating: 2.75/5

Reviewed by 123telugu Team 

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The Trouble with Jessica movie review (2025) | Roger Ebert

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The Trouble with Jessica movie review (2025) | Roger Ebert

The title and theme of “The Trouble with Jessica” echo one of Alfred Hitchcock’s lesser films, “The Trouble with Harry,” better remembered now for Shirley MacLaine’s debut performance and the gorgeous fall scenery than for its chilly dark humor about a dead body that keeps being moved around. Here, the title character, Jessica (Indira Varma), is dead for most of this film, and it is also darkly humorous, sometimes lacerating, but not at all chilly. The tone is heightened and the stakes are savage as the score turns from classical to urgent, dissonant jazz.

Like “The Menu,” “Death of a Unicorn,” “Triangle of Sadness,” “Mickey 17,” “Glass Onion,” and other recent eat-the-rich-themed films, “The Trouble with Jessica” gives us wealthy, privileged characters faced with dire circumstances that expose their hypocrisy, cluelessness, and willingness to jettison morality at the expense of those with less power. It is divided into segments separated by arch chapter titles: “The Trouble with Friends,” “The Trouble with Neighbors,” “The Trouble with Rich People,” etc.

As it begins, Sarah (tiny, husky-voiced Shirley Henderson) and her husband Tom (Alan Tudyk) are getting ready for a dinner party in their spacious and luxurious London home. Tom is making his specialty dessert, a sort of French cherry pie called clafoutis, which will play a major role throughout the evening. We will learn that Sarah is under a lot of stress and that this dinner will be their last party in the house, so it is especially important to her.

The guests they are expecting are their closest friends, Richard (Rufus Sewell) and his wife, Beth (Olivia Williams), who call just before arrival to say that they are bringing Jessica with them.  Shirley is very annoyed. She calls Jessica “Little Miss ‘Aren’t I Fascinating’” and complains that she shamelessly flirts with Tom. Jessica has just published a best-seller Shirley describes as “400 pages of confession porn.”

The friends have known each other since college, and in Tom’s home office, there is a photograph of the five of them in cap and gown at their college graduation. When they sit down to dinner, the conversation reflects a deep history and understanding of each other’s vulnerabilities, some of which inspire sympathy (Beth is protective of Jessica) and some reflect long-standing arguments. Richard and Beth spar over his career as a lawyer representing men accused of rape. He admits he hates cross-examining the victims and does not like his clients, but he is good at it and it makes him a lot of money. Beth, who counsels women survivors of domestic violence, has the privilege of feeling that she is morally superior while she benefits from the money Richard makes by not minding a bit of moral compromise. This is clearly a persistent source of conflict in their relationship, but compared to what comes next, their discussion is a simmer, not a blast.

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The blast comes from Jessica, who is sharp-tongued and manipulative. She tells Richard he is a charming amoralist and Beth she is “a po-faced do-gooder.”  She accuses the couples of being boring and unfairly lucky. This prompts Sarah to tell the group that Tom’s most recent architectural project has gotten them into such a dire financial bind that they have had to sell the house and are desperately hoping to close the deal immediately. This is the first, but not the last, time someone in the film will say that if things do not go well, it will “end me.” 

The one who is ended, though, is Jessica, who steps out into the garden and commits suicide. Sarah’s first reaction is that if they call the police, the people buying their home will cancel, and their last hope of financial stability will be gone. She is the first to show us that under pressure, even people who like to think of themselves as “good” will realize that they are more selfish than they allowed themselves to admit. Sarah’s view is that it does not matter where Jessica died, so why not move her? When Tom objects, she barks, “You don’t have the luxury of a conscience right now.”

At first, Tom, Beth, and Richard are horrified and want to call the police immediately. But as the evening wears on, and the doorbell keeps ringing with unexpected visits, we discover more about the characters’ history. And we see the ethical tipping points that end up with a farcical but still genuinely tense effort to move Jessica’s body. 

The script, by James Handel and director Matt Winn, is tightly constructed. The surprise visitors that keep showing up prevent it from getting too talky. When they do talk, the characters’ long history, including support for each other in difficult times, gives them exactly the ammunition they need to provoke and push each other. Seeing how quickly they burst through the thin veneer of cozy comity and unleash utter ruthlessness is unsettling but bracing. At first, we lean forward, trying to figure out who will jettison sensible rationality. By the end, though, we are left wondering uncomfortably what our own tipping points might be. 

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