Review of Just Mercy (2019) by Markhreviews — 10 Feb 2020

Writer/Director Destin Daniel Cretton seems to specialize in crafting films that are stripped-down, direct and straightforward. While his movies consistently are profoundly moving, it’s not because of action scenes, because of cute camera angles or jarring editing (I’m looking at you, Safdie brothers) or due to soaring exposition. It’s because they offer unvarnished truth. “Just Mercy” continues that trend.

Cretton’s first major work was “Short Term 12,” a live-action short later developed into a feature film that chronicled Cretton’s experience working in a California care unit for at-risk teens. In 2017, he co-wrote and directed “The Glass Castle,” a story of family dysfunction based on the first-person memoir of a surviving child. “Just Mercy” is a true story based on the memoir of Bryan Stevenson (portrayed here by Michael B. Jordan), a Harvard-educated lawyer who moves to Montgomery, Alabama, in 1989 to work on appeals for death row inmates.

In 1988, as the film begins, Walter McMillian (Jamie Foxx) is arrested on trumped-up charges for the death of a white woman in a dry cleaning store in Monroeville, Alabama. The only “fact” tying McMillian to the crime is the testimony of a white convicted felon, who eventually recants his coerced testimony. Despite a disintegrating case and a complete lack of evidence, the trial judge declines to grant a new trial. The scales of blind justice start to look particularly wobbly.

The acting here is consistently first-rate. Jordan, who first came to prominence in “Fruitvale Station” and the Creed series of Rocky reboots, is outstanding. Jamie Foxx is equally effective as McMillian, not necessarily a good man, but an innocent one. Brie Larson is Eva Ansley, who helps Stevenson set up his law practice, despite the overwhelming indifference and occasional threats from a white majority who like things just the way they are.

Ultimately, this is a story about restraint in the face of blatant injustice. The scene depicting a prisoner execution in the middle of the film is an emotional high point, but it’s also a master class in reserve and restraint, not shocking sensationalism. With real understatement, the audience is informed at the end of the film that “for every nine people who have been executed in the US, one person on death row has been exonerated and released, a shocking rate of error.” By the end of “Just Mercy,” you’ll be feeling a slow burn of righteous indignation because you’ve been informed, not emotionally manipulated.

Another virtue of “Just Mercy” is its own honesty. It has the self-confidence to recognize that the truth of its story is self-sufficient. The drama is kept real, but pared-down. The exposition is minimal and understated, though occasionally elegant.

After seeing this film, audience members should agree on three things: Michael B. Jordan is not just a boxer. Jamie Foxx is not just a former comedian. And “Just Mercy” is not just a run-of the-mill story about injustice.