the 1957 version btw. how to even begin talking about this movie? from the first frame itself, i was glued to the screen, my eyes zeroed in and brain dialled to eleven to take it in. the scope is simultaneously grand and minimal. i mean, the entire damn film being a single discussion in an enclosed space, to decide if this eighteen year old, this kid should be robbed of his life or not—how does this even come to be? how do you possibily not just even conceive this idea, but also apply it so masterfully so as to realise your vision? this genuinely might be one of the best scripts i've ever held witness to. it's an astounding tall order to simultaneously manage TWELVE characters in a room and do all of them justice, that too while all of them are unnamed. i don't care that these are just white men in a room, you HAVE to look at the bigger story. the questions about empathy, prejudice, doubt, projection: there's so so so much. it's chock-full of dialogue that makes you question every character's motivations and personality, of which none of them are lacking. i can't even get my thoughts in order. the direction is amazing. i think the fan and weather are characters in themselves. it's so hot in that room, literally AND figuratively. immediate top 4 movie on my letterboxd. don't even.
