Fresh out of law school, Bryan Stevenson (Michael B. Jordan) heads down to Alabama and opens up a firm exclusively tailored to death row inmates. Mostly poor and black, Stevenson quickly discovers that these inmates have gotten a raw deal. Outraged, he logs many a late night and ruffles more than a few feathers trying to make things right.
Along the way, the young, crusading lawyer comes across the case of Walter McMillian (Jamie Foxx). Though convicted of the murder of an 18 year old white girl just a few years ago, Stevenson is convinced that McMillian is innocent and immediately sets out to prove it.
Based on the real Bryan Stevenson’s book, “Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption”, JM is a straight forward courtroom drama that runs face first into the corrupt, racist shitstorm of Alabama circa late 80s/early 90s – though, it looks like things haven’t changed much.
Very few surprises here – racist sheriff, gutless DA, last second courtroom reversals – but it’s all well done and convincing.
Though the story is familiar and treated with little originality, we forgive it somewhat due to a trio of remarkable performances.
Foxx makes every second count as the innocent McMillian. He’s got a death stare that could freeze rain in mid-flight. The intensity and control in his performance is no surprise – he’s done this many times before – but it’s always amazing to watch him pull it off once again.
Tim Blake Nelson shines in a small role as the skeevy Ralph Meyers – a dirt poor red neck inmate that has info that may very well clear McMillian. All twitchy, droopy lipped and darting eyes, Nelson skillfully conjures up a man who has seen and felt far too much, far too soon.
Then there is Rob Morgan as fellow death row inmate – and McMillian friend – Herbert Richardson. He was the best thing in “The Photograph” (2019) and he may be the best thing here, too. He was born to play deeply wounded and haunted characters. At times, those eyes of his seem more like open wounds. At his best, he’s able to dig deep and bring to the surface years of accumulated pain and, somehow, do it all without the slightest whiff of fakery. Ninety-nine percent of actors can’t do that.
JM is shot and cut in an unfussy way – though, there are a few moments that rise above. One finds McMillian working a job cutting down trees for the city. He stops for a second to stare up at a small patch of sky. As he does, we realize that McMillian is as far away from the freedom of that tiny circle of open sky as he is from the freedom of being judged as fairly as his fellow white man.
The second moment is a set of matching shots that contrasts the lovely homes and front yards of Alabama’s white community with the shacks and dirt/grass front yards of its poorer black community. It is a brief moment, but it says what it needs to say with simplicity and silence.
Competent courtroom drama lifted by three terrific performances of raw and potent beauty. Worth a look.
