Arts & Culture

Juror #2
Where: In theatres
What: Movie, 113 mins.
When: Fri., Nov. 1
Genre: Drama
Rating: NNN (out of 5)
Why you should watch: Clever premise carries film diminished by stiff, cliched casting and performances.

CORNY CASTING AND  unconvincing actors are not as strong as the clever premise in Clint Eastwood’s latest directorial effort, Juror #2, which sees a reluctant juror — who isn’t? — magazine writer Justin Kemp (Nicholas Hoult) face a torturous moral dilemma.

Kemp and his wife (Zoey Deutch) are expecting their first child during a tough pregnancy — another reason to not want the juror gig — but he is chosen to help try a murder case against a suspicious-looking boyfriend (Gabriel Basso) with anger issues who is accused of murdering his girlfriend (Francesca Eastwood, Clint’s daughter), with whom he was seen arguing on the rainy night when she was later found dead on the side of a road.

As the trial proceeds, Kemp recalls his own rainy night drive, the same night of the alleged murder, when he thinks he hit a deer. We’ll leave it there to avoid spoilers, but it’s a juicy premise perfect for a tense courtroom drama that uses flashbacks to illustrate plot details and challenging recollections.

We get the ambitious female district attorney, Faith Killebrew (Toni Collette), who is determined to convict the suspect as she concurrently campaigns for another term as DA, pitting herself against the goofy but lovable and competent public defender who is convinced the accused really is innocent. Like all lawyers on TV shows (and, at times, this feels like one), the two are constantly at “the bar” having brown liquor served “neat” and exchanging flirtatious barbs as they discuss the case. Seen it before, right? That’s both comforting and slightly annoying. A degree of familiarity with the setup is welcome, but the level to which Eastwood and his writers go there borders on insulting.

The 12 assembled jurors feel like the perfectly curated passengers on a plane or cruise ship in a disaster pic or the gathered hostages in a bank robbery flick. We get the hotheads, charming but slightly spaced-out elderly couple, the stoner, the resentful Black guy with street sense, the soccer mom with the supermodel looks and so on.

The female senior citizen is named “Nellie” and she literally complains about “kids these days.” The film is filled with groaner-level cliches in character and dialogue but the story itself is so compelling it papers over these defects. And every actor on screen, even the most minor character or walk-on, looks lifted directly from central casting, with flawless skin that no doubt looks great in their headshots and everyone’s clothes new or freshly laundered.

J. K. Simmons ably plays Harold, a grizzled ex-cop who somehow managed to keep his previous profession secret throughout the jury selection process, something that would have definitely disqualified him. This is just one of many, many leaps of faith and logic viewers are required to make in this film where attitudes and technology have not been touched by the current century. We’re supposed to believe forensics could not determine between injuries caused by a blunt instrument and a car and, apparently, GPS tracking on phones and vehicles has yet to surface in the bucolic Georgia town Juror #2 is set in.

Scenes are dripping with American flags and plenty of shots of the “Justice is Blind” statue, all underlining Eastwood’s career-long service to promote American Exceptionalism, “America may not be perfect but it’s the best there is” sort of thing. But that’s kind of always been Hollywood’s thing too, and Juror #2 feels like a classic, old-time Hollywood film — flaws and all.