well, gerard butler looks pretty awesome with his shirt off.  and i’m really starting to miss the in living color jamie foxx days.  dude is just way too serious.

other than that, i really can’t say a lot about this film.  other than people seem to like it.  the friend i was with when i saw it really liked it as well.  i think i’m just an uber critic.

i think their objective in this film, other than blowing a bunch of stuff up, was to point out some flaws with our legal system.  like making deals with murderers and bad guys and giving them lesser sentences so they can give another bad guy and murderer a harsher sentence.  and i know this goes on.  i’ve seen it in other movies.

ol’ gerard loses his mind when the murderer of his wife and daughter get off with a light sentence because the guy testifies against another bad guy.  and he really does kill everybody.

it’s one of those deals where they set him up like a regular dude then we find out he’s got some mysterious lump sum payments made to him by the department of defense.  and no one thinks anything of it until people start dying.  turns out he’s like some brilliant black ops mastermind.

wow, who saw that coming?

i did come in late, which i really hate to do, and missed the terrible murder that started it.  maybe i would have bought into it a little more.  i just didn’t think all that was necessary.

there are some good action sequences and the actors all do a good job.  i particularly liked leslie bibb who plays jamie foxx’s assistant and bruce mcgill who plays the old lawyer confidant.  colm meaney is good as the cop.  i love that dude, he used to be star trek: the next generation and also in one of the spin offs.

two large movie theater popcorns out of five.  go see paranormal activity.

Part I

My father is a former chief investigator. During his service, he investigated and solved numerous criminal cases. He was also a law expert, specialized in training young officers with the basic knowledge of enforcement procedures. It is always worthwhile to listen to my father, recounting the numerous crimes he investigated. One of his most enthralling stories is a famous case study whose details should be very familiar to most law students.

The story took place many years ago in Paris, France. At that time, a menacing serial killer was terrorizing the city. As with most serial killers, this particular criminal was very random in his killing leaving both the police and the public stumped and frustrated as to who he was or what his true intentions were. For months, Paris was looking like a deserted place. People were afraid to leave their homes and most of the shops were closed. Fortunately, the police soon got a break. The killer was apprehended right at the scene of his latest crime.

The evidences against the suspect were overwhelming. His fingerprint matched perfectly with those found at the scenes of the other killings. He even verbally admitted to being the perpetrator. It seemed as though it was only time before the killer will be sent off to the guillotine. Things would get a bit more interesting, however, when Paris’ most famous and successful attorney agreed to represent the suspect in the trial.

Nonetheless, most people were unconvinced that the famed attorney will be able to acquit the suspect. The evidences against the suspect were just too devastating, they thought. But the negative sentiments did little to sway the attorney, who had never lost a single case in his illustrious 30-year career, from tackling this very complex case.

After weeks of preparations, the trial was set to start. Surprisingly, most of the deliberations were quite tamed. The defense attorney seemed lethargic, failing to deliver any real compelling arguments on his client’s behalf. In his final deliberation, the prosecutor passionately appealed to the jury to convict the defendant. His emotional speech was greeted with thunderous applause and a strong collective approval from friends & families of the victims.

It was now time for the defense attorney to deliver his final deliberation, and he started with a bang. He immediately declared his client to be innocent of all charges on the basis that the crimes he had been charged did not even exist. He even asserted that the victims were currently alive and were present at the courtroom. His comments caused quite a pandemonium inside the courthouse.

When the judge was about to flag him for his absurdity, the attorney quickly followed up his claim with a dramatic revelation. Gesturing his hand towards the door, he claimed that the victims were standing there. All eyes quickly turned towards the door. The victims, however, were no where to be seen.

~~~~~

Part II

At that very moment, the attorney exposed a grin smile of satisfaction and began to reveal the true reason behind the commotion. He cited the single most famous clause in the history of the laws as the main reason why his client should be acquitted. According to the laws, a person can only be convicted of a crime if and only if his guiltiness is beyond the shadow of a doubt. Since everyone looked at the door when he asserted that the victims were still alive, he argued, it proved that his client’s guiltiness was not beyond the shadow of a doubt. If the crowd was totally convinced that the suspect was guilty and his victims were dead, they would not have looked at the door. Upon hearing the explanation, everyone in the courtroom realized that they had all been duped. They had been tricked into becoming involuntary actors and actresses, acting in a brilliant scheme.

The attorney’s astute maneuver put the jury in a serious conundrum. If the jurors follow their hearts and do what is right which is to convict the killer, they would create a precedent that could seriously undermine the foundation of the laws. If they abide to the laws and acquit the killer, they would shake the confidence of the people on the effectiveness of their government in protecting them. Sensing hesitancy among the jurors, the judge called for a court recess.

An hour later, the court reconvened and the jury was asked to deliver its recommendations. In a stunning fashion, the jury found the suspect guilty of all counts of first-degree murder. The verdict left the defense attorney absolutely baffled. He unleashed a strong tirade against the verdict and threatened the jury with retribution. The judge quickly took control of the court and ordered the lawyer to stop his antics so he can explain the reason behind the verdict.

The jury found the suspect guilty on the basis that while people were looking towards the door, the killer didn’t. This proved that he was the perpetrator, since only the real killer would know for sure that his victims were dead, and thus effectively thwarted other arguments and considerations. Upon hearing the explanation, the attorney was completely stunned. He realized that he had been defeated by his own assertion. In a world full of injustices, it is nice to have a happy ending.

[Simon N.]

~~~~~

drama test post drama test post

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Apologies ladies and gentlemen, for I am playing catch up today. I’ve had an oddly busy week (yet without any due reason) so have got a couple of pieces to write up on. The first is Francis Ford Coppola’s under-rated court-thriller, his final piece before the decade long tenure that ended with 2007’s Youth Without Youth. 

I have to admit, that outside of the obvious (Lumet’s 12 Angry Men and The Verdict) I’m not especially enamoured towards the courtroom drama, yet The Rainmaker surprised and was found to be a likeable enough film, if not one with a really awful ending. Granted the film was an adaptation of the dreaded John Grisham, so I wont lay all the blame for the terrible finale at Coppola’s doorstep. As I said though, for the most part The Rainmaker is a competent and likeable enough film, with great performances from a young Matt Damon and Danny DeVito, who acts as a vision as to what Damon’s Rudy Baylor could eventually become, should he choose to dedicate his life to the cause of chasing ambulances. There’s a great cameo from Mickey Rourke too, bringing to mind his earlier work with Coppola in Rumble Fish. 

Generally the sort of film I would avoid like the plague, The Rainmaker shows that in the right hands what could have been a run-of-the-mill piece of drama is a likeable and well spun tale of corporate corruption.

Lethal Harassment (R)

Genre: Courtroom drama/psychological thriller

Stacey Winterbottom (Ellen Page) is a stenographer; Stan Hawson (Sean Bean) is a lecherous defence lawyer.

During a trial, Stan knowingly makes lewd comments the stenographer is obliged to type, then strike from the record upon the judge’s orders.

Over time, Mr Hawson’s continual crude advances turn into harassment… lethal harassment.

Possible dialogue:

Hawson: So do you admit, sir, that the stenographer undressed the handsome defence lawyer and rubbed his bodily crevices thoroughly with scented oils?

Witness: Err… No…

Judge: Please strike that last question from the record.

The PR machine of the Michael Jackson camp is gearing up in the mode of Britney Spears to stir up the crazy and the fame machine, via the court room for Jackson’s big come back.

This is PR from the handbook of Britney Spears’ big ‘come back’ Tour, Circus.

Jackson is set for big pay days ahead with his sold out residency in London. Now all Jackson needs is a touch of sexy brought back into his media profile after those tragic child molestation law suits which have plagued the eccentric singer.

What’s needed is former Playboy Playmate, Ola Ray’s, name and reputation to help a brotha out. Ray starred with Jackson in his grondbreaking Thriller music video in 1983. She was the coolest. And in those days Michael Jackson was still a black man. Good memories of before the totally bizarre kicked in! Anyway… 

Apparently, Ray is suing Jacko for breech of contract for royalties he never paid her for her role in the video post shoot day. Let’s face it, Jackson could do with a helping hand from a Playboy bunny to help his PR. But like Britney Spears, it’s far more convincing that the PR go down via lawyers and legal courtroom drama for it to be perceived as more convincing and believable by the public.

Great teamwork from Jackson and Ola Ray in stirring up the buzz  for Jackson’s big comeback. Jackson still proves that like Britney Spears, he still can be the ringmaster of a media circus frenzy too. Expect more dramz to follow, no doubt!

The master manipulator of the media, that is Pop Star Britney Spears‘ continues her brilliant PR campaign for her Circus Tour promotions in the press.

With Osama Lufti’s appeal to the court, to lift his restraining order, where he has been ordered to stay 100 yards away from Britney Spears over the next 3 years, Britney’s PR brilliance shines.

Her PR rhetoric is simply this to keep her in the headlines for Circus: Card a) The Courtroom drama of “Conservatorship & Is She Too Crazy?” Lufti, alongwith her father, Jamie Spears are just too of the characters she uses to get noticed.

Then there’s Card B) the simple and innane bizarre things she speaks into her microphone during her Circus Tour performances, that fans upload onto YouTube for her that also become tabloid headlines, like… “Merry Christmas” hollars from Brit Brit in April. She’s a PR and marketing genius!

Meanwhile, Osama Lufti’s lawyer released this statement:  ”Never before in the history of the world has a restraining order been granted as a result of someone answering someone else’s cries for help. The evidence showed it was Britney Spears reaching out to Mr. Lutfi and all he did was help her get a lawyer.” Too funny!

The issue after Britney’s crazy was “that beyotch needs to be restrained.” So Britney is playing with that public perception of her in the past with humor as she positions herself as the ‘restrained victim’ fighting for sanity and freedom… which is what she knows the public has indicated to her last year, that they want. Britney, is a show woman, she does not disappoint. Great press!

These days she knows how to turn on a Media Circus, better than her once icon, Madonna, can. Spears is a master at it. Creds.

I saw the 1960 film “Inherit the Wind” for the first time tonight on WHYY. Great film. For more information, check out The Internet Movie Database. Spencer Tracy was superb (of course) as a defense lawyer representing a high school teacher who was arrested for teaching his students the theory of evolution. Gene Kelly has a great supporting role as well, as a cynical, liberal journalist.

A washed-up, alcoholic lawyer regains his sense of justice during a personal injury case.

Sometimes I just become so overjoyed that I can’t keep it to myself.  And this is one of those times.  I am suppose to be working on launching my website…which should be up this week.  But I just couldn’t not before writing this blog…to tell you just how good God is to me.

I know that many many many people are currently facing foreclosure and until I started taking care of my parent’s property it really never mattered much to me.  But following the passing of my father the 2 mortgage companies which had mortgages against our property put us into foreclosure.  But not being on the mortgages the companies refused to tell me anything…and I was the only out of my 7 other siblings who felt our parent’s property was worth fighting for and eventually paying off. 

But because my name is not on the loans for the mortgage (which of course it would not be…since the house belonged to my parents and it was their loan).  So, the mortgage companies legally did not have to give me any information regarding my parent’s account…and for the most part that is what they did.  They refused to share any information on their account with me…even though they knew that my parents were now both deceased.  And the kind of information I wanted was a copy of the payment history of the entire loan and all other information concerning it…the whole history of mortgages.

Finally, CitiMortgage, one of the mortgage companies…the one with the highest balance and most difficult company to deal with…they sent me a copy of my parent’s mortgage.   After going over the documents it showed that supposedly that mortgage had been refinanced in 1999.  But my father by that time had been diagnosed as having Alzheimer’s.  Besides his left hand shook badly…which meant that his signature would have been severely affected when he wrote.  But that copy of the supposed mortgage refinanced by him showed no signs of a wobbly hand.  And even if it had my father’s mental capacity being what it supposedly was at the time…he was not legally competent to enter into any such contractual agreement.

So, I filed papers disputing the foreclosure by CitiMortgage against my parent’s property based upon it being a false document…and as being such CitiMortgage’s foreclosure was being based upon a fraudulent document which would nullify that contract and halt their foreclosure based on the amount outstanding due to that document.

Well, after I don’t know how many months…and after receiving information from CitiFinancial that they were in possession of my parent’s property.  I went back to court.  Because CitiMortgage/CitiFinancial had failed to answer my complaint against them.  So, I entered a default against them.  Today, I received my notification that my default had been granted.

I cannot tell you how overjoyed I am.  Through the grace and mercy of God…I had won.  This decision totally knocks out a mortgage which added over  a hundred thousand additional dollars onto my parent’s prior loan. 

I knew in my heart that my father would have never placed an additional $100,000 of debt upon our property.  That money was supposedly against a loan of nearly $30,000 at an interest rate of over $60,000 making CitiMortgage a mighty big winner in that contract.   My father would have never done…and particularly since he had already had more money than the alleged near $30,000 the loan approved for…as he had more than that already in at least one of his several bank accounts.  So, I went into court Pro-se as a heir to the estate of my father…and went to fight.  But God fought that battle for me.  And I cannot thank Him enough.

I wrote this blog because I know that many people are going through much of the same.  It is very difficult trying to go to bed night after night…and not know whether or not tomorrow you will be deposed and kicked out into the streets…because some bank or mortgage company took over your home.

One of the biggest frauds going…happens when people in mortgage companies find out that there is a dispute among family members following the death of someone of whom they hold a loan against their property.  This opens the door for all kinds of things to happen if the people or a person within the mortgage company is a distrustful crook…that might shock some.   But it is very true…and not just with mortgage companies but lawyers also…anyone sitting in a position they see where they can take advantage of. 

Anybody sitting in a position who can take advantage of  such a situation many times does.  Because they seize upon the family members lack of communication with one another and their inner turmoils and conflicts to keep the family members too busy at each other’s throat…and it allows the cheats the freedom to do whatever they will.   It is for this reason that I asked to see the complete history of my parent’s mortgage from the initial mortgage on.  For which I never got because they refused to release to me.  Nor did any notices of court dates come to house regarding the foreclosure hearings. 

By not getting those notices…the notices regarding the foreclosure hearings…I could not appear in court to defend my parent’s property.  And since none of my other siblings cared…they didn’t go either.  This meant that that by default the mortgage company won their foreclosure because nobody showed up on our side of the table…or who represented us in court.

I tell people all the time…the worst thing you can do in a court case…is not show up.  By failing to show up the other side automatically wins.  Give yourself a fighting chance.  Show up and tell the judge your side of the story…you may be pleasantly surprised by the outcome.  It could make a difference.

If you have been reading these blogs then you also know that I had entered a case in the Appellate Court. 

Perhaps you are familiar with this…and are guilty of the same.  Though I must say as a rule I am not a procrastinator…but for a couple of weeks I had been walking around with the letter from the Appellate Court unopened.  I get tons of mail…and there are some pieces that I put off opening simply because I don’t want to think about it…and I am afraid of what it might be informing me of.  This was the case regarding my default notification from the court and this letter from the Appellate Court…both of which I finally decided I couldn’t put it off any longer.   So, I opened them up this morning.

It turned out I had been dreading good news from both courts.  The notice I got from the Appellate Court was to inform me that I would not have argue orally our case before the judges.  Though I had requested to do so…I really didn’t want to do it.  But from where I stand nobody can better present my case than me…and particularly since when my son had gotten a lawyer…the lawyer told him to settle for $1,800.   Our car had been totaled, my son suffered back injury (which still plagues him today)…and on top of that the repairs that the insurer of the other vehicle (the one that caused the accident) authorized were not sufficient considering the amount damage sustained to our vehicle. 

So, I filed the papers myself…when you do this it is called “Pro-Se.”  But it was not because of any of the reasons I have already listed that drove me to file suit.  No, I filed because they had returned to my son a faulty automobile which could have killed him…and they didn’t care.  The car shook…the bumper would fall off while he was driving…and at the time of the accident my son was away at college in a town which had no public transportation…not even cab service…which is why I had to buy him a car in the first place.

So, I filed suit in conjunction with my son against Allstate Insurance.  And today I heard from the Appellate Court…because if you recall, also in a prior blog, I explained how my son had really won the case…but how the whole thing had been a set-up and ended up in front of a judge who was friendly with the other side.  Don’t act shock to hear this…it happens everyday…watch LAW & ORDER.  It is regular practice for lawyers to call the clerk’s office to find out which judge is in what court and when. And try to schedule their hearing before judges who are very lenient or favorable to them.

Had we lost our case in court fairly…I would have accepted that decision.  But I could not knowing that we had not been unjustly treated and all our evidence and testimonies had been overlooked.  So, I filed a Notice of Appeal…and to the Appeals Court we were a going. 

One of the most involved documents I have ever had to put together was the legal brief that was required of the Appeals Courts.  It was over 100 pages in length and required many hours of research in a local law library and several days of typing…but I did it.  By the time our case finally got heard…following all the hearings for the various pre-hearing court dates for…Motions to be entered…and Mediation…etc..and all our travelling back and forth…many times when we barely had the money to go and come back.  But we did it any ways by faith…over 900 miles each time.

Now, the notice from the Appeals Court today informed me that we would not have to present our case orally before the Appellate Court.  I had covered everything so completely in that brief…and in great detail…including the court transcript to back up my statements.  I am so happy that we do not have to go down and stand before them.  Standing before several judges dressed in black robes…would have been a bit un-nerving for me.  But if I had to…I would have done it.  I had prepared myself to do it.  Because from the on-set…I had not filed the papers to lose our court case.  And I always knew it was just a matter of how much…because we had all the documentations, receipts, invoices, pictures etc. to prove our case.  Many times in court just having truth on yourself is not enough…you must have hard evidence…and we had both truth and hard evidence.  Then they next thing is to be capable of delivering that evidence before in a logical and as near legal manner as you can master.

I tell you this…because I do believe that if more people sued for wrongs and injustices…maybe some of us others would not have to.  We live in an area where they want to make you feel guilty for having to sue.  But believe me…many times a law suit is necessary to resolve many matters.  The problem is most lawyers won’t take any cases that they believe they won’t make any money on…or that may tie them up for too long.  This leaves those who can’t go into court for themselves with no choice but to drop the matter.  And even I have had to decide whether or not something was a battle to fight or not. 

I have not sued everybody…though my son and most of friends believe I have.  But I have not.  Some of them I have left for God to deal with.  He can do things to them that I cannot.

This reminds me of a time when I was in grade school.  While in the cafeteria one day just as I was about to sit down…this girl took her foot and snatched the stool from up under me.  I fell flat…and everybody laughed at me. 

I was so mad that I began praying to God to do something to the girl.  And a couple of years later I realized he had.  The girl is very unattractive…and I have always thought God did that to her because of me.  Truly, I have.  From that point on I have never prayed to God to take care of anybody else for me.  I thought His punishment to her was a bit too harsh. 

So, for the cases I decided not to pursue…I have just left it up to His discretion if He wants to do something about it or not.  The Bible says…He rights every wrong.

But I will keep you posted on the Appellate Court decision. 

The reason behind this blog is to encourage those of you who are facing foreclosure…or any other problem…legal or otherwise.  Do not give up.  Go back through your paperwork…there may be something in it which can turn your situation around.  You may find a loop hole…lawyers use them all the time.  But if they can so can you.

Always remember that God has the final word in all situations.  And that He is faithful.

My parent’s property is still in foreclosure but now all the  money paid on the property from the date of that refinance date that I disputed to present will have to be reverted to the old mortgage…and with interest. 

The Bible is true…God is always working it out for our good.  I am just so happy.

God is good.  And I am so happy that he is a friend of mind.

It is still Black History Month…Ida B. Wells…W.B. DeBois…Billie Holiday……Marion Anderson...Sweet Honey in the Rock…

http://mirroronamerica.blogspot.com/2009_02_01_archive.html

As I have said in my other Black History Month posts…the reason I have not given you any information on the people that I list is so that you will be motivated to research who they are.  This will prove to far more helpful to you…and to your ability to remember their accomplishments.

Well, God bless…

Thank you for reading this blog…and  my others.  Please be sure to continue to share this blog site with your family, co-workers and all your friends… “pass it on” www.bsmith101.wordpress.com ©2009

When Geoffrey Mason grew too large to follow his childhood dream – becoming a professional jockey – he sucked it up and went to law school instead. A dozen years as a successful barrister have given him a comfortable life, a warm home, and a 13-year-old gelding of his own to ride in amateur steeplechases. Like the proverbial airline pilot, his life was hours of boredom (the lawyer part) interrupted by moments of sheer terror (the horse-race part) – at least that’s what it was like before former losing client Julian Trent won an appeal and paid a visit to his erstwhile defense counsel with a baseball bat. Not for hitting fungoes, either…

When one of Mason’s jockey acquaintances is charged with the murder of a rival rider, “Perry” (as the jockeys call their lawyer pal) is his first call. Rarely has there been a case that more closely fits the description “open-and-shut,” yet the defendant steadfastly proclaims his innocence. The evidence would be enough to convince Mason, except for the menacing letters and phone calls instructing him to lose, “or else.” What the “or else” might be might be left up to his imagination were it not for the attached photographs of Mason’s aging father, or his new girlfriend. As Mason wrestles with both courage and conscience; his life, the lives of his client, and the lives of those he loves lie in the balance. Can Mason unravel the hidden skein of evil that links his current and former clients? Can he live up to the nickname the jockeys gave him, even without Della Street at his side? Whatever he does, it’d better be quick…

It’s Francis and Francis again: after years of being a behind-the-scenes factotum for his famous father Dick, young Felix Francis gets his name on the spine of a murder mystery for the second time in Silks. Having completed the adventures of likeable, though slightly dim, caterer Max Moreton in 2007’s Dead Heat; Francis père et fils move on to a new protagonist – this time a lawyer. The top name on the cover being “Dick Francis,” the protagonist is – of course – also a devotee of the sport of kings. Mason not only rides, he also races and races his own horse. With a jockey for a client and a love interest who’s a large-animal veterinarian (not Baxter Black, I hasten to add), the plot of necessity has a most horsey aroma. Dick Francis fans wouldn’t have it any other way…

Beyond a suspiciously convenient visit from the Coincidence Fairy to form all of the necessary connections between villain and victims, Silks has the feel of vintage Francis. Especially compared to later Dick Francis installments (after his relocation to the Caribbean), the language of Silks is decidedly more British than American; right down to the title’s double meaning: a brightly-colored jacket and cap combination worn by a jockey vs. the somber black robes of a senior barrister or Queen’s Counsel. Mason’s vocation requires a bit of exposition for American readers about the difference between solicitors and barristers, much of which is rather skillfully disguised as Mason’s explanation to his client; but that doesn’t make the courtroom scenes any less dramatic. Perhaps that’s because there are no references to Mason’s wig slipping askew in the climactic courtroom scenes, a surefire giggle for the Francises’ less Anglophilic readers in the States.

Dick Francis built a mammoth fan base through almost forty mysteries on the strength of likeable characters and plots that don’t require much in the willing suspension department. His second collaboration with son Felix (after 2007’s Dead Heat), Silks continues in that mold with the thoroughly approachable, even sympathetic, Mason facing off against an implacable evil. That the internal connections among characters might be slightly far-fetched is decidedly secondary to father and son’s careful development of plot and their subtle development of motive and means for murder, all of which turn on the tiniest of details. Francis senior’s historic fan base will be comforted by minimal gore and love scenes that dissolve into “curtains blowing in the wind”; though Mason’s ultimate solution to his moral conundrum may be a bit more direct than one has come to expect from the gentle ex-jockey.

With a climax worthy of a Jeffery Deaver thriller (including Deaveresque multiple climaxes), Silks is clear evidence that though Dick Francis may have lost a step, Felix Francis is there to pick up any potential slack. Well worth the read, and proof positive that the Francis and Francis team is here for the duration.

Buy Silks at The Tattered Cover or at amazon.com

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Mickey Haller didn’t do so well on his last case: he ended up taking a bullet for his troubles, followed by a painful recovery that ran him past an addiction to oxycontin and straight into a stint in rehab. Now it’s time for the Lincoln Lawyer to climb back in the saddle, but even a workhorse like Haller knows enough to ease back in. “Ease” ain’t in the cards this time, however, as Haller finds himself inheriting a portfolio full of cases from a lawyer acquaintance who’d also gotten in the way of a bullet – except he ended up dead. Most of the cases are run-of-the-mill, but there’s one that’s a “franchise” case: Hollywood producer Walter Elliott stands accused of offing his wife and the interior designer who’d been boffing his wife. Elliott wants that trial to go forward, dead lawyer or not, even if it does start in a mere six days. Good thing Haller has his ex-wife (one of ‘em, anyway) and her current boyfriend to fill out his legal team.

Up against a prosecutor who’s never lost a trial, Haller has his work cut out for him. Plus the guy who killed his predecessor is still out there, and just might have shifted his attentions to Haller. Good thing the LAPD’s put one of their finest on that murder, the guy with the funny name: Heironymous “Harry” Bosch. So Haller has to find the “magic bullet” that can free his client, maybe dodge some real bullets, and still keep from tipping over into dreamland again. Can he make it? It’s gonna be close…

After a career built on police procedurals featuring noir de noir detective Harry Bosch, novelist Michael Connelly follows up his first courtroom drama (The Lincoln Lawyer), with another Mickey Haller novel, The Brass Verdict. Haller’s an archetypal LA Lawyer (he thinks that Corbin Bernsen’s “LA Law” character was the most realistic TV lawyer ever), except that he operates out of the back seat of his Lincoln Town Car instead of a glass-and-chrome office, hence “Lincoln Lawyer. He’s the son of a legendary defense lawyer, stays on (pretty) good terms with both of his ex-wives, adores his pre-teen daughter, and loves jazz… heroin jazz (he is a Connelly character, after all).

Even though he cut his literary teeth on police procedurals, Connelly has managed to put together a couple of class legal dramas. The courtroom antics are engrossing and sufficnetly manic; and the characters are vintage Connelly – right down to a drawling big-haired blonde double-PhD expert witness (perhaps a trifle over-similar to Emily Proctor’s Calleigh Duquense). The dialog’s witty and Haller’s personal interludes with his young daughter fresh and thoughtful.

So why is it I just didn’t like The Brass Verdict all that much?

Like Connelly’s Bosch series, The Lincoln Lawyer was tightly plotted and had the predicatable dose of noir. The Brass Verdict definitely fits with Connelly’s noir detective tradition, even bringing in Harry Bosch himself for an extended cameo (and a surprising final plot twist); but the tightly-plotted part is missing. Haller’s first-person narrative swings from the mundane to the thrilling, but there’s a lot of the mundane and not so much of the thrilling. Long passages are little more than Haller describing everything – and I do mean everything – he’s doing, step by step and word for word.

The Brass Verdict isn’t going to be the best novel of 2008, no doubt about it. It’s not the best novel of Michael Connelly’s recent career – not even the best Mickey Haller novel, if you ask me. Recommended for diehard Connelly fans, but don’t start here if you’ve never heard of Harry Bosch before.

Buy The Brass Verdict at amazon.com

: : : :

Illegal (1955) Directed by Lewis Allen
Starring Edward G. Robinson, Nina Foch, Hugh Marlowe
Written by W.R. Burnett & James R. Webb

The rough and tumble world of American noir is thick with cheap pleasures, remembered best for constant lampooning by more contemporary pop-culture. Back lot studios churned out cheap hood stories using their contract players and directors with little regard for source material and less thought on chemistry. The most enduring legacies were patched together piece by piece, character by character, as carefully crafted as the shooting schedule allowed. From this capricious world of disposable celluloid crawled an unlikely assortment of icons, standing on the shoulders of their talentless peers, roaring above the mind-numbing, stilted dialogue, who will forever live on through their imprint left on the American psyche.

It’s hard to imagine a more unlikely star than Edward G. Robinson, whom I used to refer to as the man with “the name I can never remember and the face I can never forget”. He looks like a blubbering bulldog, sneering each line through his nostrils like an asthmatic playing a bent kazoo. Yet he shines in every role, and his portrayal of disgraced District Attorney Victor Scott is no exception.

We’re introduced to Scott as he concludes a murder case, courting the jury’s favor with an almost operatic performance. He’s successful, the best D.A. in the state, and victory is made sweeter by his adopted daughter’s (herself employed as an assistant to the D.A.’s office) announcement to marry her long-time beau. The time is right for his run for governor but suddenly his life shatters when a dying criminal confesses to the same killing on the eve of the convicted man’s (a stunning two-line performance by future interstellar physician DeForest Kelly) execution. The reprieve comes too late, the innocent dies, and Scott falls apart. He resigns from his position, abandons his political ambitions and slips quickly into the bottom of an endless parade of Scotch bottles.

Finding himself on the wrong end of the court system Scott realizes that his skill in swaying juries could lead to a new career as a criminal defense attorney. Freed from the dignity of a city-employee Scott is allowed to stage courtroom antics such as decking a witness to prove his testimony could easily have been compromised by having been knocked unconscious. A chance client affords him the opportunity to meet underworld heavy-weight Frank Garland who, impressed with Scott’s abilities, would like to retain him for nefarious purposes. At first Scott declines but as he soon sees the underworld spawns most of his clientele, has the money and has the tallest blondes playing piano.

This entertaining picture weaves between courtrooms, backrooms and occasional pit-stops on the streets. It’s more of a drama than a detective-thriller with the question of morality as its centerpiece. The world of law, of guilty and innocent, is portrayed as a gray area based on perception and window-dressings, and Scott rides both sides of the fence unapologetically. This is not so say that he is amoral, just that his code of ethics is a very focused one.

Such delicate subject-matter buried under the surface of this deceptively simple story is well handled in Robinson’s capable hands. He’s a driven competitor in court and a sternly proud man outside; however he has no illusions about what he does professionally, treating his clients with the same contempt as when he was the D.A. Where his adoptive daughter Ellen (Nina Fochs) is concerned he’s an old softie with twinkling eyes, tender and loving. There is despair, there is redemption, there is anger and there is righteousness. A very full performance despite the efforts of all around him to doom the movie.

Fochs stalks the stage like a rattled antelope and is periodically possessed by a zombie, slack-faced and staring off into space. Garland is a stock caricature found in any number of gangster flicks and his sociopathic right-hand man licks the boots of Richard Widmark’s numerous performances. When the movie was originally released a big deal was made out of it being Jayne Mansfield’s first role and she handles her part as vacuously and out of place as Max Steiner’s periodic fits of score. The only talent worthy of Robinson’s screen time is Ellen Corby who plays Hinckel, Scott’s rancorous and matronly assistant. There’s no help from the director’s chair, the shots are perfunctory. The movie as a whole is imbalanced with only Robinson keeping the rubbish lid from clambering down entirely. It’s a masterful feat and well worth the time if you have some popcorn handy and an evening to kill.

The DVD I watched was a double feature which includes the Robert Mitchum picture “The Big Steal” and I assume it’s widely available. As my computer has been consumed by cockroaches I had to steal screenshots from Crooked Timber and the formatting is all fucked for some reason– I’ll blame my being on a crap PC at work.

In the Name of the Father (1993)

★★★

Jim Sheridan’s In the Name of the Father is based on true events and centers on the character of Gerry Conlon (Daniel Day-Lewis), a young working-class Northern Irishman who was framed by his own government, along with a few other “accomplices,” for the IRA bombing of a Guildford pub in the 1970s. That said, It would be misleading to call the film a biopic of its leading man; it is, rather, a picture about the dangers of any police state where innocent people are forcibly made criminals in order to quench the bloodlust of a terrified, vengeful public.

In this way, the film has obvious implications in present-day America. We live in a country that has refined this concept by focusing its rage on foreign prisoners in places like Abu Ghraib and Guantánamo Bay. What’s more, it’s an approach that has fallen from almost unanimous favor among a populace incited to vengeful zealotry by a horrific attack on its own soil to such unpopularity that both of our presidential candidates have felt compelled to unequivocally state that one of their first acts as commander-in-chief would be the closing of Guantánamo. It’s also worth noting that Gareth Peirce (played here by Emma Thompson), a civil rights lawyer who represented the Conlons during their appeal, has gone on to serve as the counsel for British Muslims who were held without charge at Guantánamo.

But Great Britain in the case of the Irish Troubles decided — felt it was forced, in fact — to take action against some of its own citizens in order to quell a populace that was, as Gareth Peirce quite rightly puts it, “baying for blood.” It was, consequently, a far more personal matter for most Britons than the desire of the easily distracted American people to see its perceived attackers punished, since for us the drama unfolds almost entirely on foreign soil and with foreign players.

As the film is at pains to point out, much of the British populace in the early 1970s lived somewhere that was more than once well within earshot of a bomb blast — and not just in Belfast either. The choice to open the film immediately, even before the opening credits, with the bombing that Gerry Conlon and his hapless co-defendants will eventually be charged with underscores this. You can practically hear the British public “baying” in the background of every scene, and it may well be that this is what writer-director Jim Sheridan had in mind by underlying many of the early prison scenes between Conlon and his father Giuseppe (Pete Postlethwaite), also wrongly imprisoned, with the offscreen shouts of their fellow prisoners (who, significantly, are just as vocal in their hatred for their perceived Irish attackers as the enraged citizens who harangue them in the early courtroom scenes).

This is all a very long-winded way of saying that In the Name of the Father deserves points for unswervingly making this statement about public hysteria (another phrase which is, incidentally, used at a key moment in one of the courtroom scenes, albeit in a public atmosphere far more sympathetic to the protagonists). What I’m not inclined to give the filmmakers credit for –- maybe I’m just being cynical -– is the irony in the way the British public is shown to come around to supporting the accused “Guildford Four” after calling so vociferously for their punishment when they are first accused.

The way the film frames this public change of heart seems meant to do little else than underscore the long-awaited and dramatic triumph of justice at the film’s end, but, whatever the intention, it wouldn’t be hard to put forth a reading of this film as a statement about the willingness of the public to believe whomever is shouting the loudest. I might even go so far as to say that this is my reading of it, though as a liberal American citizen in 2008 who’s long been disgusted by his government’s disregard for the civil rights of its prisoners and the willingness of the public to accept it, I’m probably more than a little predisposed to that way of thinking. The film’s frequent invocation of the British Prevention of Terrorism Act, which allowed the government to detain suspects for up to seven days without charges, struck a particular chord with me (and for the record, this little legislative gem is still in force in the U.K. So much for progress).

It might be a little strange that this aspect of the film figured so prominently in my understanding of it this time; I saw it once before a few years ago and don’t remember reflecting on it at all (I also remember liking it a lot more). The British people as the character of Outraged Masses only literally figure in the film’s two extended courtroom sequences. In the first, they call for swift and severe punishment and lustily cheer the guilty verdict; at the second, which concludes the film and neatly wraps the story up for us, they even more enthusiastically applaud Gerry Conlon’s exoneration. They are, however, constantly present by proxy in the rest of the film; they are in the faces of the unscrupulous detectives who, knowing that they must produce a cadre of acceptable Irish targets for the public’s frustrated fury, extract confessions from Gerry and his friends by torture; later, when the tide of public opinion has shifted, they are represented by Peirce, the archetypal solitary, restless lawyer who conducts a lengthy and perhaps hopeless campaign to expose the injustice of a government that stood blithely by while its own citizens were tortured and thrown to the dogs for a crime they didn’t commit.

I can’t fault the film for this fickleness in and of itself, since it seems to me a pretty accurate depiction of the way public opinion works. It could have certainly been handled more smoothly, though; the filmmakers fill in the blanks with a few brief shots of demonstrations in support of the Guildford Four that rather clumsily usher in the film’s final act. This receptiveness of an angry public to anything its government tells it is also the reason I don’t understand why the chief’s chief antagonist and architect of the framing, played by Corin Redgrave, is portrayed as an unrepentant, smirking sadist. The point would have been made a lot better if we could instead have seen him — and the institution he represents — as a misguided agent of corruption brought down by the absurd lengths he allows himself to go to in the interest of giving the people an effigy to burn. Maybe Jim Sheridan didn’t think we would believe it if this was the case, that in order for an injustice this great to be carried out there has to be a great, malevolent evil at work, not just Machiavellian detachment. What’s scary is that the latter is more often the case — horrible evil isn’t necessary for acts of horrible evil to be carried out; I wish the film recognized this.

This tendency to moral neatness is one of the main problems I had with In the Name of the Father on this viewing (like I said, I saw it once before a few years ago, and came away powerfully stirred — not so this time). The film seems to be operating under the belief that it spends plenty of time tooling around in moral gray areas with its hero and protagonist. He begins the film as a harmless but worthless petty thief, the kind of man-child whose instinct upon seeing a woman drop her keys on the sidewalk is not to return them but to break into her apartment and steal from her.

Conlon’s redemption comes in the person of his father Giuseppe, whose steadfastly high moral standards he has resented and tried to ignore his entire life, but who he is finally forced to confront when they share a prison cell for more than a decade. Both begin the film in roles that are pretty much standard issue for dysfunctional father-son teams — chronic disappointment on the part of the father, whose abiding affection for his son is made tragic by his distrust of him; resentment on the part of the son, who, we are made to understand, chose a delinquent lifestyle in order to prove to his father that he really was no good, a lost cause. As they spend the better part of their sentences locked in the same cell, thrown even closer together by the instinctive hatred of the other inmates for accused Irish terrorists, their relationship, which is obviously meant to be the film’s central focus, supposedly develops into respect, at least on the son’s side, but this development happens in a way that, despite the excellence of both performances, is muddied by the storytelling.

The film’s principal weakness, I think, is this entire middle section, which makes up the bulk of the movie and feels much longer than it is (in fact, it’s shorter than the film’s opening section that concerns Gerry’s conviction and confession, which is much better handled and flies by). Narratively it’s a mess, and I spent most of the 45 minutes or so that it took up wishing that the film would just get on with it. I’m not usually one for criticizing a film’s choice to stand still and ruminate on its situation rather than simply moving through plot points — I think I actually prefer slow films — but it’s different with a picture like this, particularly when you’re dealing with a classic “wrong man” scenario and you’ve chosen to present your film at least partly as a legal drama (though one thing I will give the film is that in many ways it transcends genre). Even more particularly, when this scenario is introduced so explosively — the scene of Gerry’s confession is undoubtedly the most powerful in the film — the narrative can only have strength when it’s forcefully propelled. A clever writer or director who wants more layers of meaning should be able to find ways to shade them in while the story continues on its way. For proof of this, you need only turn to the classic “wrong man” pictures of Alfred Hitchcock — The 39 Steps, Strangers on a Train, and even the comparatively light-hearted North by Northwest.

Take for instance, an encounter with a small but key character, Joe McAndrew (played quite well by Don Barker), an IRA leader who shows up during the Conlons’ prison stay and reveals that he was the perpetrator of the crime for which Gerry and his father have been framed. He is shown first as a figure of sympathy, since we learn immediately that he confessed himself to the authorities and let them know unequivocally that they had imprisoned innocent people. But Giuseppe Conlon wants nothing to do with anyone who’s planted a bomb, even when McAndrew pledges himself to help exonerate him and his son. We quickly learn — that is, we’re led to understand rather than simply shown, a biased insistence on the way the audience is given information that this movie can’t let go of — that Giuseppe’s instincts were right; McAndrew, while continuing to aid the Conlons, begins a despicably murderous campaign against the English prison masters. It is clear by Gerry Conlon’s resulting disillusionment that this is meant as a turning point in his character, where he decides to put the irresponsibility of his past behind him and join his father’s tireless campaign to clear their names, but the whole experience rings hollow. The film doesn’t provide sufficient reason for McAndrew’s violence to beget this kind of sea change in Gerry’s character, and I couldn’t help but wish the time had been better spent.

Wouldn’t it have better spent, for instance, by focusing on the campaign of the Conlons’ lawyer, Gareth Peirce, who is played so well by Emma Thompson? She appears almost out of nowhere almost 90 minutes into the film, although we’ve been aware of her due to the fact that the story has been told in flashback through a tape-recorded testimonial Gerry has made for her and serves as a rather weak voice-over narration for the story. Bizarrely, the film provides no convincing background for the passion with which she tirelessly and single-handedly takes on the Conlons’ case. There are no scenes involving her with both Gerry and Giuseppe, and although the film is at pains to explain that the illness that eventually kills Giuseppe prevents him from leaving his cell, the narrative is missing out on an opportunity to enrich the film’s central narrative thread. It would, I think, have led to a much more stirring payoff at the film’s climax, which, while affecting, seems, like Gareth herself, to come totally out of left field.

And about that climactic courtroom scene where Gerry and his co-defendants are released. It’s triumphant, no doubt, but it’s robbed by much of its poignancy by how poorly put together it is. Why, for instance, lend so much emotional weight to the exoneration of Conlon’s co-defendants when they’ve disappeared from the last hour of the film only to suddenly reappear in the final scene? It gives the climax a touch of one of the most annoying features of a flawed “based on a true story” film – showing what happened for no other reason than this is what happened, even if the audience has been given no real reason to care as much as the film seems to care. And, even if it’s accurate, why interrupt the scene with a brief recess where almost nothing happens and Gareth and Gerry discuss something that adds a totally unnecessary wrinkle to the proceedings that turns out to be essentially inconsequential, and when it’s already been made clear what the trial’s outcome is going to be? It’s one of the most exasperating failures of pacing I’ve ever seen on film.

All these criticisms aside, I can’t bring myself to deny that In the Name of the Father is at the very least a decent film. It’s saved by a number of things. First, the design is excellent, and if it looks a little drab and unsaturated, it only serves as an accurate reflection of the way the Conlons’ lives, both in prison and at their home in Belfast, must have felt. Second, it’s well photographed, and the fact that it maintains visual interest in such a gray environment — particularly the long, monotonous stretches in prison — is a feat unto itself.

Mostly, though, the film is buoyed by its first-rate acting. Day-Lewis, Postlethwaite, and Thompson are uniformly excellent, and the small roles are generally well-cast, too. Day-Lewis, perhaps because he is playing, for once, a man who is, while not stupid, largely unhindered by a complex intellectual life, has almost none of the over-studied bravado common to even his best performances, where you can practically see the method oozing out of the pulsing veins at his temples (the one exception is a solo scene – an Oscar bait scene if I ever saw one – towards the film’s end, involving an unwound length of tape wrapped around his head and a lot of smashed furniture; you’ll see what I mean if you watch it). Pete Postlethwaite plays off him wonderfully, his stern stillness making for great counterpoint, the anguish caused by the unceasing war between his genuine love for his son and his nagging distrust of and disappointment in him barely suppressed and etched in every corner of his performance. And Emma Thompson is a firecracker as their outraged lawyer, although her scenes seem written and edited in such a way that Sheridan wants nothing more than to get on to the parts of the film that interest him more; like I said, her role should have been bigger, not only because Thompson is too good of an actor for a role with this much potential to be so slimly written, but because the film would have benefited from it as a whole.

The bottom line: In the Name of the Father is worth watching because its actors and its style save it from banality and make it a genuinely emotional experience, but it could have been so much more.

EXTRAS

Best Scene The Confession. Would’ve been more effective without all the intercutting with the arrest of Conlon’s family, but emotionally and narratively it’s the most consistently powerfully part of the film.

Best Line Reading Gareth Peirce: “…whose only crime was that he was bloody well Irish!” The film’s cri de coeur and Emma’s one shining moment; two hours of righteous fury concentrated into one outburst.

Stop-Loss
[ 3 stars out of 4 ]

I appreciate Kimberly Peirce for making a pretty effective film about a policy that is (unfortunately) not familiar to a lot of Americans: stop-loss. Basically, stop-loss involuntarily extends a soldier’s service even if his or her contract has ended. Ryan Phillippe continues to add another serious film in his repertoire and he’s effective here as a soldier who doesn’t want to go back to Iraq. He owns every scene he’s in because you can see in his eyes that determination of wanting to live his own life after serving in the military. Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Channing Tatum also did a great job portraying soldiers that took different paths. The film started off well–the scenes in the battlefield is nothing short of gripping. Unfortunately, the picture became a little unfocused somewhere in the middle when Phillippe’s character decided to go AWOL. Still, there were scenes during the middle portion that stood out and established that these soldiers aren’t done being in the war even if they’ve returned home. They go through guilt, post-traumatic stress disorders, and anger; once a person goes to war, there is no going back. What really didn’t work for me, though, was the jarring hip-hop and hard rock soundtrack. I think the film could’ve been elevated with a slow, political folk songs instead. This film is very sad on the surface but very angry in its core.

Sleepwalking
[ 2 stars out of 4 ]

This is not a feel-good movie but that doesn’t make it a bad movie. Even though it may be very heavy-handed on the drama, it managed to have some sort of focus on the story. Set mostly in the winter and shot in areas where there are no bright colors, the tone is depressing and at times a bit claustrophobic. Still, the performances here are pretty good: Charlize Theron is the mother who doesn’t know how to be one because she gets distracted by life’s circumstances, Nick Stahl is the symptathetic brother who sees himself as a failure so he tries hard to pick up his sister’s responsibilities–something he could be successful at, and Dennis Hopper as the father who was way too hard on his children and his past actions catch up to him. Not a lot of things happen in this movie because the film’s purpose was to observe. Still, it could have been much more powerful if Theron has been on screen more and if the picture had more comedic moments that serve as a hint of sunlight amidst all the darkness. By the end of the movie, the tone was more bitter than bittersweet because the characters are still trapped, despite the actions they have taken to try to break free from their own prisons.

Kramer vs. Kramer
[ 3 stars out of 4 ]

This picture possesses a silent power that cannot be found in many modern family dramas. Dustin Hoffman and Meryl Streep did a great job as far-from-perfect parents; one chose to leave and one had to stay. Eventually, they fight for their child in the courtroom but not in a loud or very dramatic way; it was done in a very naturalistic manner which made the film all the more impressive. The script is very smart in showing how the characters changed in a span of eighteen months. For instance, there’s a scene in the beginning that’s done again in the end to show how the two characters have evolved. There’s no wasted scene here–often, a struggle is shown that will eventually change the character’s outlook on how to parent or prioritize. Still, the title suggests that there will be a war between the father and mother but it never really happened, so it was kind of misleading. Another thing is that some critics say that the film did not favor one parent over the other. I disagree because Hoffman has a considerable screen time than Streep. I think the film would be more balanced if the two lead actors had an equal amount of time in front of the camera. It would feel more like what’s at stake is very, very crucial (or more important than it already is). This is a great family drama–its power mostly lies in the unsaid than the things that are said.

I learn from whomever I can. I’ve told you repeatedly that I learn more from my dog and grandchildren than from all the bearded, gazing gurus. We can even learn from the French.

I’ve preached that we ought not—no never—motivate our competition. I am civil to my opponents in the courtroom. I never threaten. If I’m afraid, I do not try to cover it with macho. If I’m confused I am confused. So are most lawyers and most judges. But I never– no never—attempt to frighten my adversaries—or to anger them.

When we are frightened we instinctively hide, run, or attack. When we’re told we’re going to be smashed, as the French relay swimmers were foolish enough to threaten the Americans in the Olympics, and the experts say no scenario can be found leading to an American victory what is to be done? But the experts overlooked the imprudent French threat that motivated the Frenchmen’s competition down to their toenails, which was the length of the American’s victory–the small part of a second.

I want my opponents to be comfortable, complacent, content, yes, cozy. I want them to see castles in the sky. I want them thinking of their golf game, or running off to Vegas where what they do stays in Vegas. I do not want them threatened, frightened or angered. And where do we learn all of this? You see, we can learn—even from the French.

Since 2000, there have been a number of excellent legal thrillers to rival the likes of John Grisham and Scott Turow.  If you love reading about legal cases and courtroom dramas, I highly recommend all of these thrillers.

Open and Shut – David Rosenfelt – 2002
Book Description:
Corrupt politics and big money collide when a young New Jersey defense attorney takes on a death row appeal in this exciting debut thriller.Defense attorney Andy Carpenter manages to sail through any tough situation, whether inside the courtroom or in his personal life. But this all changes when his marriage breaks up and his father suddenly dies, leaving him distraughtand 22 million dollars richer. Andy doesnt know how his father accumulated this fortune or why his father begged him to take on the appeal of a death row prisoner. With the help of his newfound love, P.I. Laurie Collins, and the support of his golden retriever companion, Tara, he discovers a link between three of the most prominent men in New Jersey, including a senator, and his new client, Willie Miller. Willie was framed, theres no question about it, and Andy soon learns how far powerful men will go to protect their secrets.

Fatal Flaw – William Lashner – 2003
Book Description:
Ethically adventurous Philadelphia lawyer Victor Carl usually does the right thing, but often for the wrong reasons. When old law school classmate Guy Forrest is accused of murdering his beautiful lover, Hailey Prouix, in their Main Line love nest, Carl agrees to represent him — while keeping silent about his own prior romantic involvement with the victim, and his present determination to see that his client is punished for the brutal crime. But once Carl sets the machinery of retribution in motion, it may be impossible to stop it, even after his certainty begins to crack. Now Victor Carl must race across the country to uncover shocking truths: Who, really, was Hailey Prouix? And why is a killer still waiting in her shadow?

Solomon vs. Lord – Paul Levine – 2005
Book Description:
Steve Solomon is the sharpest lawyer ever to barely graduate from Key West School of Law. Victoria Lord is fresh from Yale, toiling for an ambitious D.A. and soon to be married. And Katrina Barksdale is a sexy former figure skater charged with killing her incredibly wealthy, incredibly kinky husband. With all three tangled in the steamiest trial of the century, the case is sure to make sparks fly, headlines scream—and opposites attract. But with Solomon inventing his own laws and Lord sticking to the real ones, these two can’t stop squabbling, even after teaming up to defend the glamorous widow. With crooks, con men, and a cast of colorful characters swirling around Solomon, and an anxious fiancé waiting for Lord, the two attorneys begin to believe their luscious client has been lying through her perfect teeth. Now Solomon and Lord must solve the case before they end up in ruin, in jail…or in bed.

The Lincoln Lawyer – Michael Connelly – 2005
Book Description:
Criminal defense attorney Mickey Haller’s father was a legendary lawyer whose clients included gangster Mickey Cohen. But Dad also passed on an important piece of advice that’s especially relevant when Mickey takes the case of a wealthy Los Angeles realtor accused of attempted murder: “The scariest client a lawyer will ever have is an innocent client. Because if you [screw] up and he goes to prison, it’ll scar you for life.” Louis Roulet, Mickey’s “franchise client” (so-called becaue he’s able and willing to pay whatever his defense costs) seems to be the one his father warned him against, as well as being a few rungs higher on the socio-economic ladder than the drug dealers, homeboys, and motorcycle thugs who comprise Mickey’s regular case load. But as the holes in Roulet’s story tear Mickey’s theory of the case to shreds, his thoughts turn more to Jesus Menendez, a former client convicted of a similar crime who’s now languishing in San Quentin. Connelly tellingly delineates the code of legal ethics Mickey lives by: “It didn’t matter…whether the defendant ‘did it’ or not. What mattered was the evidence against him–the proof–and if and how it could be neutralized. My job was to bury the proof, to color the proof a shade of gray. Gray was the color of reasonable doubt.” But by the time his client goes to trial, Mickey’s feeling a few very reasonable doubts of his own.

Missing Witness – Gordon Campbell – 2007
Book Description:

Phoenix, Arizona, 1973. A beautiful woman, armed with a gun and accompanied by her twelve-year-old daughter, enters a house. Shots are fired. The woman and her daughter leave the house. Inside, her husband lies dead. The case seems open and shut. The cops, the attorney general’s office, and the media are certain the woman is guilty. The only witness to the shooting is in a catatonic state and cannot testify. But the murdered man’s wealthy father believes he owes the woman something and hires Dan Morgan, the best lawyer in Phoenix, to defend her. When the legendary criminal attorney takes on a case it’s to win, no matter what the odds. But for Morgan and his young protégé, Doug McKenzie, there are no easy answers, only mysteries, and the question of innocence and guilt take on profound new meaning.

Down River – John Hart – 2007
Book Description:
Adam hase has a violent streak, and not without reason. As a boy, he saw things that no child should see, suffered wounds that cut to the core and scarred thin. The trauma left him passionate and misunderstood—a fighter. After being narrowly acquitted of a murder charge, Adam is hounded out of the only home he’s ever known, exiled for a sin he did not commit. For five long years he disappears, fades into the faceless gray of New York City. Now he’s back and nobody knows why, not his family or the cops, not the enemies he left behind. But Adam has his reasons. Within hours of his return, he is beaten and accosted, confronted by his family and the women he still holds dear. No one knows what to make of Adam’s return, but when bodies start turning up, the small town rises against him and Adam again finds himself embroiled in the fight of his life, not just to prove his own innocence, but to reclaim the only life he’s ever wanted.

It is 2:30 in the morning and I am just now getting up.  I did a marathon yesterday…I stayed up all night without sleeping in order to push out some paperwork that I should have done long ago.  Have you ever had something you really needed to do but just could not bring yourself to get it done? 

Though I stayed up all night to do it…I never once touched what I was suppose to do until about 6 o’clock in the morning.  That’s how much I really didn’t want to do it…something that I should have gotten done back in May.  But as the legal clock was ticking, I could not afford to get out of this month, June, without at lease attempting…and I say that because I may have missed the deadline already.  But I just couldn’t drive myself to do it when I really should have…and I am usually not a procrastinator.

After one legal battle after another this year, 7 classes, 21 credits this past semester…and what seemed to me to be one controversy after another…I am tired. 

So, dealing with yet one more legal affair, which by all accounts should have been done away with last year…I just…I just did not want to do it. 

Call it frustration.  Call it laziness…call it whatever you want.  But I just did not want to do it. 

So, I stayed up all last night realizing that if it was going to get done…this was my absolute last chance to try and get it in. 

It had been a legal issue dating back to 2002, dealing with an automobile accident in which my son’s car was pretty much totaled while he was away at school…since which we had been back and forth to North Carolina in trying to get the matter resolved.  And since we had gone this far and to not see it through…  Well, I had to force myself.

What lawyers count on…is that you will give up…grow tired and concede.  They bank on it in fact.  So, they keep you tied up for years running back and forth. 

Most lawyers won’t even take a case that they don’t perceive is worth it (in time and/or money).  So, unless you have a little knowledge and possess some willingness to sit in law libraries doing a lot of reseaching…you are out in the cold.  You may have a case but no lawyer is willing to take it…because they don’t want to take the time or the frustration of handling a case which might get drawn out in court for years…of which there is not real money involved in it.  And then nobody wants to go up against the giants…because the giants have plenty of money and don’t mind trying to wear you down.

But sometimes you just have to go for it…for yourself.

This issue was one of those.  It involved my son’s life and wellness…and I could not let it go without a fight.  It was never about money…as we were entitled to money.  But the issue was they had endangered the life of my son knowingly.  And when nobody would take the case to represent my son fairly…I stepped in as a party to the case since I had purchase the vehicle and had been the one responsible for paying it off long after its demise.

Our giant was Allstate.  And though they sent out teams of lawyers against us…the facts bore us out.  We won.  And we had no lawyer representing us…and we made every court date though it was a 12 hour drive from our home…and there were over 10 court dates plus mediation, hearings for motion after motion…of which against all those lawyers…for the most part we still prevailed.

There is nothing like being blessed and highly favored.

But last year June was finally due to be our trial date.  And…BAM!  A surprise ruling just before seating the jurors.  I was removed from the case and told I was not a rightful party to the case.  Now my son was placed in a position of having to present our case. 

Now, understand this…I was the one who had filed the suit on “our” behaves.  My son had no involvement in the case other than being the person behind the wheel at the time of the accident…of which he clearly was not at fault.

As the judge was unwilling to hear my arguments as to why I should not be removed from my own case…and was unwilling to allow my son any time to prepare to move forward with our case….there was nothing that we could do. 

My son looked at me with a gleam in his eyes and whispered…”I can do it, ma.  Ma, I do it.”

I said, “____, this is not Judge Judy.”

And he said again, “Ma, I can do it.”

Well, even if he couldn’t…we had no other options in light of the Judge’s decision.

My son was amazing.

I could not believe it.

In all those various trips back and forth to that North Carolina courthouse, my son had never said one word in the courtroom…it had all been me.  Every argument, every document, every motion…everything having to do with our case including bringing the law suit had been me.  And there was my son in that courtroom, on a beautiful sunny day last June, going through jury selection like a champ, submitting evidence, questioning witnesses… like Perry Mason.  He was astounding.  I doubt that I could have done a better job.

And the best part was when he himself took the witness box and the Judge questioned him.  There wasn’t a dry eye in the house…not one in the courtroom.  Even the other side…as they watch their case go out the window before them by a couple of amateurs 

My son was great. 

And I say that beyond being just a proud mother.  I never would have thought he would have been able to carry it off…but he more than carried it off.  He swept through it…and stole center stage doing it…like a pro.

With each time we had to gone back and forth into the courtroom…each time we came back a little bit better and more prepared than the last time.  So, by the time the case was finally bought to trial we were so up on it…in terms of big posters of the pictures of the car etc.  Even down to knowing what other cases had been brought against our defendants that were similar to points in our case. 

BUT.  There had been something that we had not been prepared for.

After the Judge dismissed the jurors telling them they would have to return to the court the following day to deliberate their verdict in the case…the judge turned to my son and asked him to “show damages.”

My son didn’t have a clue what the judge was asking him for.  And then the judge commence to dismiss our case.  Meaning that it was…it was all over. 

After all those years of preparing for our case and going back and forth to North Carolina…our case was now thrown out of court.

Therein lays my frustration…we had won.  There had been no rebuttal of our evidence from the other side.  No cross testimonies or witnesses to the contrary.  We, my son and I, had successfully crossed over the bridge to the other side.  So, then why now should I still be faced with having to generate yet more court documents concerning this case?

We had won.

But we had not been prepared for the other side to steal our win from us.  We had been set up…and it had all been a sham…the whole hearing…to an unforeseeable end.  That is what it was that they swung in our direction…a sham.

Lawyers look to see what judge is going to be in what courtroom…they look for judges who are favorable to them, who belong to their country club, whom they play golf with etc…etc…even in some cases may be related to.

Don’t let anybody tell you that justice is blind.  It is a lie.

Now, we are on our way to the Appellate Court.  I will keep you abreast.  But thank God…I finally got our paperwork together. 

I had intended to make the post office yesterday…but it wasn’t until after 3 in the afternoon on Saturday that I finally had everything printed out and copied.  By that time all the post offices here in our town were long closed. 

In New York City, at 34th and 8th Avenue the post office is always opened.  It never closes…except for on legal holidays…in fact it may not even close then.  Outside of that 24/7 that post office is always open…but not that way here.

So, I missed the post office and almost missed UPS.  Got there just seconds before they locked their doors.  Didn’t want to spend all that money…but had to get my documents to the court before this month was up.  And it still might be too late.

Sometimes you just got to get over your frustration and do what you gotta do no matter how you feel about it.

Easier said than done.

I will let you know how the Appellate Court goes.  Looking forward to our 4th…June certainly blew by…in fact this whole year.  July is beating at our door and soon it will be August and back to school…some more aggravation.  An issue I have to settle there…I had put that off too.  Sometimes you just don’t want to be bothered.  You would rather not face some things. 

I hate controversy.  I dislike having to deal with them.  But I guess as long as we live there will always be one controversy after another.  Some matter that you have to tend to…or contend with.

It is now 5 o’clock in the morning.  And I didn’t have anyone else to talk to.  Well, that is not quite true…that may have been the case once upon the time.  Or what I thought was true back then…but certainly not now.

And I think I am going to consult Him right now…and read a little. 

Planning on being in Detroit during our 4th…and I’m so happy I was able to get that document out to the Court of Appeals.   What a weight…

I was so tired by the time I got through with it…not to mention how I kept finding myself dozing off at the computer while typing it up…along with rushing so much just to get it done…over a 100 pages of text I had to generate…and as the court required it to be done.  So, I really had to push myself…luckily I had done all the legal reseach in advance.  Otherwise it would have been impossible to do in one night.  No, it was several days of culinated work.  

I am just so happy to be through with it.  So much so…that I never even checked any of it for errors.  One reason being… I could barely see anything anyways…as my eyes were so crossed by 3:40 yesterday afternoon from lack of sleep that it would have served no purpose for me to even try…because I could not see anything much less a bunch of errors on over a 100 pages of court documentations.  (Just a note…I finally, did check it a day later…and had to send a revised package to the court ASAP…and plead upon the court to accept the amended document.   You only get one crack at it…so, it has got to be your best shot…and the high court…as well as, any court is no joke.  Long before you walk through the door the judge…and in this  case the judges…have read and make all kinds of decisions based upon the points of arguments in your documentation)

On my way home after getting the package off…I was so tired I had to fight to stay awake at the wheel as I drove out to the airport to deliver my package to UPS.

I was so tired…that I even forgot to get the address to the courthouse where I was to send my package.   So, I had to end up calling information just to get the address…more time…more money.

So, no political commentary…no, not this morning.  Or any discussion on hot news topics…noooo, not today.   Because…I’m just toooooo tired.

And now…I’m too tired to even go any further with this blog.  I hope some of this made sense.  I am not going to even bother to read it.  As I can barely see…   goodnight…or maybe I should say good-morning.  Enjoy your Sunday. 

And…God bless…

ps…well, I did go back over this.  And happy I did…though I had to almost put my nose to the screen of my computer in order to see… but I am just too vain to have posted this blog without first trying at least check it for errors.  Of which there were many.   Though I must admit…I made a lot of spelling errors and forgotten words here and there while writing these blogs. 

Since I am mentioning it…let me say sometimes to pays to mis-spell a thing or 2.  On the day I wrote my blog about those 17 girls and their pregnancy pact…I spelled pact with a “K”…it was also the way that many people spelled it as they searched for that story over the internet.  So, on that day due to my mis-spelling over 240 people found their way to this blog site.

Now, that is truly something.  And so wasn’t my son whom I love dearly.  He is just the best person.  And I say this often…and it is the truth.  He is a far better person than his mother.  And I should know.

Thanks for reading.  ©2008

incep sa imi transfer aici textele/ comentarii de film de pe pelicula.weblog.ro

First este 12 Angry Men

Nu-mi place nimic mai mult dimineata decat sa ma trezesc cu un film bun. (Desigur, daca e vorba de sambata cand ma trezesc, ar fi rezonabil sa ne referim la momentul zilei ca pranz). La fel si seara/noaptea. Un film de exceptie ma relaxeaza si pe potriva ma incita, deci adorm mai bine de la el, visand frumos, sau urat, sau foarte urat, dupa caz, dar oricum ma simt bine.

Cand e vorba de “12 Angry Men”, imi aduc aminte de 2 asemenea momente. Bine, acum sunt si eu eliptica. Sambata dimineata m-am trezit cu el – cel vechi – pe MGM (desi nu l-am prins de la inceput ) si in alta seara, anul trecut, l-am vazut pe la 4 dimineata, pe National.

De fapt 12 Angry Men este doua filme (daca acesta o fi acordul potrivit). Unul din 1957, cu Henry Fonda, si unul de televiziune, din 1997, cu Jack Lemmon (in rolul de l-a interpretat Henry Fonda), James Gandolfini, Armin Mueller Stahl, Tony Danza, George C.Scott si na! altii. Destul de multi incat adunati sa fie 12.

Pentru ca cei 12 oameni furiosi  sunt 12 jurati, implicati mai mult sau mai putin profund in procesul de deliberare a unui verdict. Pe langa cei 12 barbati furiosi mai exista si – pret de cateva secunde cate un aprod, o judecatoare sau un gardian.

Cele doua filme, original si remake, nu au parte nici de amenintari fata de jurati (vezi filmul ala cu Demi Moore si Alec Baldwin, nu tin minte cum il cheama pentru ca mi l-am sters din memorie , sau cel identic cu Armand Assante si William Hurt), nici efecte speciale, nici impuscaturi sau macar doua decoruri. Totul este filmat pe aceeasi “scena”, in acelasi decor, ca o piesa de teatru compusa din muuulte-muuulte acte mici. 

Cei 12 barbati (si in versiunea veche si in versiunea noua, toti protagonistii sunt de gen masculin) trebuie sa judece o crima, sa cantareasca dovezile si marturiile referitoare la moartea unui batran. Pe scaunul acuzatului sta un “pusti de carter” care este fiul batranului.

STOP!

Daca te plictiseste genul de film  care se bazeaza pe dialog, atunci nici nu mai citi acest review. E total inutil. Asta pentru ca tot filmul este o mare discutie, o analizare a situatiei, de catre 12 oameni care nu au fost acolo cand s-a infaptuit crima, dar care raporteaza cazul la experientele lor personale.

Totul e construit pe un dialog inteligent, pe reliefare de personaje extrem de vii, pe o axa care nu merge de la bine la rau, ci de la vinovat la nevinovat.

Juratul nr 8, care nu poarta alt nume este cel care, interpretat pe rand de Henry Fonda si apoi de Jack Lemmon, este singurul care porneste de pe o pozitie neutra, singurul care este dispus sa ii dea pustiului o sansa, conform principiului de “reasonable doubt”. In discutarea dovezilor si intoarcerea lor pe toate partile, el gaseste destule brese si reuseste sa transforme situatia din “hai sa il declaram vinovat si sa ne caram de aici” in “hai sa vedem daca pustiul e vinovat dincolo de orice indoiala”.

Juratul numarul 8 are un singur adversar inversunat si anume numarul 3, singurul care nu se unduieste intre cele doua verdicte posibile, in functie de dovada care pare cea mai puternica sau cea mai gaunoasa.

Pentru ca una din marile teme ale filmului este “american justice”, sa trecem putin prin procedurile judiciare. In sistemul american, pentru ca o persoana  sa fie condamnata, ea trebuie sa fie judecata de un juriu format din egalii sai (jury of his peers), acestia prin discutii sa analizeze probele si cat de circumstantiale sau nu sunt ele si ca juriul sa creada in vinovatia lui beyond reasonable doubt/dincolo de orice indoiala. Pentru ca, cel putin in teorie, esti nevinovat pana la proba contrara. Si nu invers. 

Verdictul se da in unanimitate sau deloc. 

Unul din personajele pe care il gasesc cel mai interesant este juratul numarul 11 (in v.1957 este de origine sovietica, in v.1997 este hispanic), despre care intuim ca provine dintr-o tara cu regim represiv si care este captivat de izul de democratie pe care il simte in tribunalele americane. Fata de americanii get-beget, el poate aprecia mai bine ideea de “judecata” corecta.

Personajul superficial este cel cu numarul 7, care abia asteapta sa se termine “bairamul”, pentru ca are bilete la un meci de … (completati punctele cu baseball, fotbal, baschet, sau ce mai joaca americanii).

Dintre cele doua filme, atat de asemanatoare, chiar si pentru ca numerele juratilor sunt pastrate in conexiune cu personalitatile lor, cel mai mult mi-a placut varianta cu Jack Lemmon, din motive stupide.

1.pentru ca l-am vazut cap-coada.

2.pentru ca poti ghici personajele mai devreme, din cauza unor circumstante ca pelicua colorata, faptul ca sunt multirasiali (na! in 1957 afro-americanii nu prea erau jurati), faptul ca sunt imbracati diferit (varianta alb-negru ti-i prezinta pe toti la fel: costum negru, cravata neagra, camasa alba, toti bruneti si cu frizuri egale).

“12 Angry Men” are doua ore, dar care nu te plictisesc in niciun moment. Dovezile sunt analizate si apoi discreditate, chiar si opiniile contra sunt constructive, iar cei 12 barbati  isi creaza propria pledoarie, distincta de cea a apararii sau acuzarii, care ii duce spre deznodamant.

Inspiratii

Serialul “The Jury” (2004).10 episoade. Fiecare episod prezenta un caz cu cate un juriu nou. Actorii care jucau constant erau fie procurorul fie avocatul apararii. Pentru ca serialul este loaded cu flaskback-uri din timpul procesului (exact ce imi placea la film e suprimat -  ca nu il vedem pe acuzat sau pe martori la fata), iar la sfarsit vedea si daca acuzatul era vinovat sau nevinovat, implicit, daca juratii au gresit sau nu.

Jury Duty (1995). Un soi de parodie cu Pauly Shore si Tia Carrere. El, un pierde-vara si sarac lipit ajunge jurat si e cazat intr-un hotel. Practic traieste mai bine acolo decat acasa, si ii place si de gagica, asa ca incearca sa prelungeasca deliberarea pentru a-si cumpara timp. Incearca sa-i convinga pe ceilalti din juriu (oameni seriosi si nu prea), ca acuzatul cu mutra de psycho e nevinovat.  

Well, I’ve certainly seen the hoopla.  You can’t miss it, the barriers outside the entrance to 26th St., the reporters with different badges and languages and levels of dress, the gawkers, the stalkers.  It’s certainly a circus.  The most number of cameras I’ve ever seen in the lobby prior to this was about 5 during the Brown’s Chicken and Pasta murder re-do.  This is a whole new level.

So what the hell is going on?  It’s a classic SODDI defense (Some Other Dude Did It).  Or CGI defense, depending on how you look at it.  As you probably know by now, the defense has pictures of Mr. Kelly’s body that they say proves conclusively that it can’t be him in the video.  Or that his head was superimposed on someone’s body to make it look like him.

Now, I don’t know about you, but I believe the provenance of this video tape puts it back to at least the late 90’s.  To put his head on someone else’s body would take LucasArts, Industrial Light and Magic levels of sophistication to pull off at that point, and I don’t think anyone, judge, jury or spectator is buying that.  But whatever, reasonable doubt takes only one idiot on the jury to start stroking their chin and saying, “You know, I didn’t think you could bring dinosaurs to life so realistically, but look at ‘Jurassic Park’!”

As for Mr. Kelly’s defense team…well, he certainly brought in the ringers.  I see Sam Adams Jr. a lot around the courthouses.  He carries himself well, and from the coverage by the Trib, he’s stood out during the trial as a fierce cross-examiner.  Good for him!  From what I understand, he and his father were brought in at the last minute, and I have to wonder if it was just for their trial skills, or putting another black face at the defense table with Mr. Kelly.

The first time I was ever in a courtroom in Chicago, I stood in front of Judge Gaughan.  He is a stern taskmaster, to say the least.  As the reports have indicated he has kept EVERYONE on a short leash in his courtroom.  The first time I was there, I watched him dress down a third chair prosecutor (my age at the very least), for not knowing which police district the discovery we were waiting on came from.  He is…ornery.

The prosecution has been doing what they do best…piling on the evidence.  Lots and lots of witnesses who say, over and over, that sure enough, that’s Mr. Kelly.  And everyone in the neighborhood knew it too!  Well, that’s just not that solid.  And when the victim herself doesn’t testify, I think this case is pretty much sewn up.

I am going to put the good money on an acquittal.  Mr. Kelly probably won’t testify, but who knows.  I bet it’s a last minute decision.  He’s a hilarious actor and I can just see him having enough hubris to think he can convince the jury he’s innocent.  If he did so from the witness stand in a sing-song manner while a gospel choir stood up in the gallery, well, then, I don’t see how he’d lose.  Star power, no victim, no other ID than this videotape, no other physical evidence.  Just not enough for the prosecution.  And from the reports of the video’s contents, not even a good ID of Mr. Kelly.  I think he walks.

…on the other hand.  It’s a minor, there are degrading sex acts…and that’s powerful stuff.  This is going to be interesting!

The Appeal - John Grisham

John Grisham’s latest begins at the end. Well, at least, it begins at the point where most legal thrillers end: the jury hands down a verdict in favor of the good guy’s client. Grisham’s far from done at this point, however; just as any civil trial that results in a $41,000,000 award for the plaintiff is far from done. After all, there’s a reason why appellate courts were invented: THE APPEAL.

This, however, will be no ordinary appeal. In an ordinary appeal, the loser turns to a higher court to keep from having to pay; seeking that the court overturn the verdict on legal or procedural grounds. For Baker v. Krane Chemical, however, the losing party takes a radically different approach: megalomaniac industrialist Carl Trudeau forks over a few million dollars to buy his own personal Mississippi Supreme Court justice. With judicial elections taking place before an appeal can be heard, he need only rid the court of its swing vote to ensure himself of a favorable verdict. So what if it costs him eight million bucks? That’s a bargain…

Blindsided by a multi-million-dollar onslaught funded by anyone who ever feared a verdict for a plaintiff and directed by a reincarnation of Machiavelli himself, Justice Sheila McCarthy senses that her judicial goose is cooked. Against the opposition’s campaign of misdirection and manipulation, her only defenses are the truth – always overmatched in the political arena – and the local Trial Lawyers Association; a group more reviled in Mississippi than the French. If for no other reason, that means it’s gonna be a long campaign…

Forgoing his usual courtroom drama something more like a white paper on the election of judges at the state level, John Grisham offers readers a novel that pretty much reads like an extended investigative piece by a reporter examining the filthy underbelly of campaign funding. While Grisham makes it painfully clear where he stands on the issue – he’s against direct election of judges or, at least, against private funding of their campaigns – he hasn’t done much in the way of writing a novel. That sets him apart from authors like Richard North Patterson, who generally does a fairly good job of balancing fiction and opinion.

Grisham has, to be sure, done quite the job of detailing how to buy oneself a supreme court judge, at least when it comes to the manipulation of public impressions. After reading THE APPEAL, one might think he’d spent a year or so studying at the feet of Karl Rove, those dirty tricks are so deliciously dirty. Where he’s gone wrong, however, is in a lack of focus on the novel itself. The plot serves more to move readers slowly through his primer on campaign chicanery than to entertain. Every character borders on unadulterated stereotype – there’s the wealthy industrialist with his surgically-enhanced trophy wife (wife number three, trophy number two), social climbers who waste millions on bad abstract art and good whisky. At the opposite end are those warriors for plaintiffs, good guys sacrificing their all for a cause in which they believe (and a third of the jury award, don’t forget). He’s also sprinkled in the rustics in the Mississippi coffee shops and a cadre of trial lawyers, each of whom seems to be some sort of ersatz Gerry Spence. Grisham clearly worked very hard to make his villains detestable and his heroes honorable – and he succeeded, for what little it’s worth.

The weakest character is, of course, the candidate whose campaign is bought and paid for by the villains. No one could possibly be that gullible… except, perhaps, the average American voter.

While Grisham certainly succeeds in raising questions about judicial elections and campaign financing, he’s failed to make his book particularly interesting. What’s worse, he hurts his cause with all his broadly stereotyped characters and the vilification of the rich (which includes Grisham himself, now that I think about it).

Buy The Appeal at amazon.com

Los Angeles, CA, U.S.A.

Buried by the cultural mythology of O.J. Simpson’s murder trial is the fact that
the jury’s verdict was to no small degree the result of courtroom persuasion by
the accused’s lawyers. Here is perhaps Johnny Cochran’s most persuasive moment.
“You are empowered to do justice,” he urges. “Your verdict talks about justice
in America . . . . This is not for the naive, the faint-of-heart, or the timid.”