Newman's Case

BLUE EYES set confidently on rugged face, this has always been the primary attraction of past Paul Newman movies. Acting seemed an alter thought in those largely action based derring do adventures But The Verdict. Newman's latest, is more than just an excuse for long-lingering closeups. A not-quite before role in the slow paced drama provides Newman with the sort of acting challenge seldom faced before. And the old pro-delivers.

Like last year's Absence of Malice. The Verdict casts Newman in the role of a struggler, rather than a winner. The courtroom drama that unfolds promises a dramatic still life rather than an action packed film, which director Sidney I time makes poignant by drawing parallels between the down-and-out lawyer's efforts to pull together both his case and his personal life.

Pinball at the corner bar, a mound of scattered papers and boxes that pass for an office, Frank Galvin's life is falling apart and there is nothing to hold together his failing health and law practice but alcohol and eyedrops. That is, until a no-nonsense lawyer friend offers him one last chance--a client with an unbeatable malpractice suit.

The friend and former mentor. Mickey Morrissey (Jack Warden), hopes the case will bring in some cash without much effort. The Archdiocese which runs the hospital where the accident took place seems willing to settle out of court and keep the doctors' names out of the papers. But Galvin, a crusader against the corruption of the Irish. Catholic world in which he lives, refuses to take the easy route. He rejects the offer and insists on taking the case to court, thus making the verdict of the court, whatever it may be, more than a judgement of the suit, but a decision that will condemn or save Frank Galvin's professional and personal life.

The rest of the film now falls into place. The case becomes an obsession both for Galvin and the audience, especially as it becomes clear that the trial is a sham. Director Lumet cleverly arranges the scenes around the building anticipation to the trial, and the film never lags.

Strong performances by supporting actors, particularly James Mason as the defense attorney, and colorful scenes of Boston also carry the film. The audience's anticipation of a happy-ever-after between Galvin and his enigmatic girlfriend (Charlotte Rampling) dissolves in bitterness in the final scene, when Galvin finds out that this mysterious woman who had helped him get through the trial was a lawyer from the firm of the defending attorney hired to spy on Galvin.

The Verdict is not, however, a particularly provocative ethical drama in the tradition of Breaker Morant. The decision before the court is presented throughout the film unequivocally in Galvin's favor. Unlike Breaker Morant, there actually is a right decision and it is only a question of whether the court will make it. The court's decision is microscoped into the judgment of the fate of one man instead of being telescoped to encompass a much greater fate.

But this narrowness alone limits the greatness of The Verdict. The appeal of the film, its commendable production, and Newman's vivid performance, promise that it will be a film remembered throughout the '80s, when our perceived failings place us not far from the plight of Frank Galvin, a casualty of our times.