The Verdict (1982)

When we first see Frank Galvin, the central character of The Verdict, a nominee for Best Picture of 1982, he's playing pinball and drinking a beer. You get the sense that Frank (Paul Newman) has spent a lot of time engaging in these two activities, particularly after you quickly realize that he's a washed-up attorney who looks for jobs by reading the obituaries in the paper. Frank is given a case that could turn his life around, a medical malpractice suit, but he has to call upon the reserves of intelligence and courage he once had in order to prove that he can still win. If that brief summary sounds like The Verdict is a movie riddled with cliches, I'd only point out to you that the screenplay was written by David Mamet and the film was directed by Sidney Lumet. With those pros and Newman as the star, this film manages to avoid the trappings of many courtroom dramas that rely upon cliched premises and expected outcomes.

Newman was a consummate actor, one of the best of his generation. Here he takes a man who is really little more than a shell of his former self, a drunk who doesn't seem to care about what happens to him, and makes him into a sympathetic character. Frank Galvin might need some breath spray and eye drops to make himself presentable, but in Newman's capable hands, he's never going to lose our attention. It's no small feat to make us like Frank Galvin; he's certainly not always worthy of our love. Yet Newman manages to let us see the redeeming qualities of persistence and integrity that Frank has.

The story involves a young woman named Deborah Ann Kaye who was given the wrong anaesthetic and is now in a coma from which she will never recover. Her sister, Sally Donaghey (Roxanne Hart), is Frank's client, and Sally and her husband are desperate for justice to be meted out for what has happened. They are also eager to accept the husband's transfer to Arizona so that they can start their lives over, and the money from the case could place Deborah Ann in a proper facility for the care she needs, freeing Sally to leave her sister behind. The Archdiocese of Boston, which runs the hospital where the patient was operated on, wants to settle the case but for a nominal amount, $210,000, of which Frank would receive $70,000. He refuses because he thinks he can win more. The lawyers for the archdiocese, led by James Mason's bulldog Ed Concannon, and the insurance company settle in for what they assume will be an easy victory. They certainly have manpower and influence on their side.

It's hard to say exactly what leads to Frank's change of heart, what makes him think he's the right lawyer for the job. He refuses the settlement offer without consulting the sister and her husband, a fact which leads to an angry confrontation in the courthouse. Perhaps it's the moment he visits Deborah Ann in the hospital. Maybe he sees the fragility of the human body (and spirit) represented in her comatose form. He certainly seems to have a renewed desire to be an attorney after the visit.

He faces a formidable opponent in Concannon, though, who plans to use the press to create a positive image of the church, the hospital, even the accused individual doctors, in the minds of potential jurors. He's also not above using his influence to get rid of Frank's key witness, a doctor who claims that the field of medicine needs to be cleaned up. And the judge in the case, Judge Hoyle (Milo O'Shea), is no help either. He seems to have already determined that the case should have been settled out of court and that Frank should lose if it does get to court. You also have to have a romantic interest in a movie like this, and you couldn't find a woman more intriguing to someone like Frank than Charlotte Rampling's Laura. However, I do think the subplot involving Laura and her spying for Mason and the rival lawyers underuses the talents of someone as remarkably gifted as Rampling.

So what is Frank left with? He has an expert witness who is quickly denounced by the opposing lawyers for his lack of experience with anaesthesia and his willingness to testify in numerous cases. Frank also has the assistance of only one other person, Jack Warden's gruff Mickey Morrissey, while the other table has a huge phalanx of attorneys to try the case and do the research. It's little wonder that Frank begins to suffer from self-doubt. He fumbles through his opening remarks, and the judge repeatedly interferes with his attempts to question witnesses, causing Frank to confront the judge in his chambers and accuse him of improper conduct.

It's only through the accidental discovery of the one person in the operating room who refused to testify that Frank sees an opportunity. Her name is Kaitlin Costello, she was a nurse on duty that night, and she's played to perfection by Lindsay Crouse. It's her testimony regarding the forging of documents that seals the outcome. The case really hinges around whether Deborah Ann had food one hour before the surgery or nine hours before it. Mason's Concannon immediately panics because the nurse has kept a copy of the original admittance form, not the copy that has been doctored and that is being used as evidence. That sets up Frank to deliver a powerful closing argument that calls into question our ability to trust institutions like the court system, the medical system, almost everything associated with the case.

The Verdict is, first and foremost, I think, a showcase for great acting. Newman is fantastic, as always, and he is given able support from Warden, O'Shea, Mason, Crouse, even Rampling in an underwritten part. We get to know Frank very well as the film progresses, and he becomes a heroic figure by its end. To be fair, though, the movie stacks the deck a little too much to be fair-minded. We never get to hear the opposing side's opening or closing statements, for example. Yet we're not really here to watch a movie that shows us both sides; we already know which side we're supposed to be on, don't we? No, what we're meant to do is consider the implications of this serious film and admire the kind of people like Frank who use their last chance at success to defend those most in need of it.