Publisher: CinemaSerf September 22, 2024
I usually enjoy French courtroom dramas. There's none of this "yes m'lud" and "no, your honour" deferential obsequiousness. They are normally much more of a bun-fight with the lawyers, witnesses, jurors and the accused all chipping-in to ask questions and sling plenty of character-assassinating mud about the room. This one is at the livelier end of that scale as the eponymous, self-confessed, robber (Arieh Worthalter) takes to the stand to defend himself from accusations the he shot and killed two pharmacists. I can't say I'd every heard ever heard of this left-wing firebrand, but as the film progresses his quick-wittedness and common-sense approach to his defence, coupled with his uncomfortably plain speaking - especially for his lawyer "Kiejman' (Arthur Harari) - makes for a most unconventional presentation of a scenario where the court president (Stéphan Guérin-Tillié) seemed to be doing most of the questioning and then most of the judging. It's the very lack of the ore traditional static formula that makes this a compelling watch. I found Goldman's character to be smug, self-satisfying and opinionated but his sharp honesty along the lines of "why would I?" begins to cut more and more ice as the prosecution becomes increasingly flabbergasted by his generalising outbursts that provoke temper tantrums from all sides and, more importantly, expose some of the less attractive characteristics of all concerned. It's almost two hours long, but the very natural, at times angry, nature of the scripting and it's delivery gives us a really plausible setting that's more gladiatorial than judicial. He's quite a sarcastic fellow, as is the prosecutor, so there are a few laughs to be had here as they successfully manage to wind each other up, and the close confines of the court - which we never leave - condenses it all nice and tightly. In the end I felt I knew what the verdict would be, but did I necessarily agree with it? Hmmm...?