By Sidney Lumet

Just remember that this has

to be 12 to nothing either way.

That's the law.

OK, are we ready?

All those voting guilty, please raise your hands.

One, two, three, four, five, six,

seven, eight, nine, 10, 11.

OK, that's 11 guilty.

Who's voting not guilty?

One.

Right.

11 guilty, one not guilty.

Well, now we know where we are.

Boy, oh boy.

There's always one.

So what do we do now?

I guess we talk.

Boy, oh boy.

You really think he's innocent?

I don't know.

On this one day just outside of Calcutta,

as the train was pulling out of the station--

and they were those British kinds of cars with the center

aisle, entrance on either side, but also

individual compartments opening up with their own doors--

and I was looking out the window.

And there was this little girl, I guess she was about 12,

standing on the platform, and in the car behind me, a GI,

I don't know who, reached out and swept her off a platform

and pulled her into the compartment

that he was riding in.

And I was so shocked.

I couldn't believe it.

And then wrestled with it for a moment

then got up and started making my way to the car behind me

and pulled that door open.

And there was a guy, like that, blocking him.

And there were a bunch of GIs fucking her,

just passing her from one to the other in the compartment

and paying for it.

And the guy he said, you want some?

It'll cost you whatever.

And I said, no, and then the whole wrestle with

do I do anything about this?

I'm not directing the moral message.

I'm directing that piece and those people.

And if I do it well, the moral message will come through.

This is car 2118.

Call Greenpoint Hospital and tell them

we're bringing in a wounded cop.

COP 2 (ON RADIO): All right, 10-4.

Thanks a lot.

Eighth Precinct.

Yeah.

Jesus Christ.

Guess who got shot.

Serpico.

You think a cop did it?

I know six cops said they'd like to.

I wouldn't deny that morality in my movies for anything.

I know it's there.

The difference between what we're talking about

is you think it's a conscious choice

and I say it's an unconscious choice.

I don't pay any attention to it.

I had no hint whatsoever that I wanted to do movies.

I've got a very happy disposition,

that as long as I'm at work, I'm perfectly content.

I would have been completely happy to spend the rest

of my life in television.

I'm glad it went in another direction

because I had a much better and bigger canvas to work on,

but it wasn't a necessity at all.

If you talk to anybody who's had any sort of career in,

I don't know what other professions,

but in our profession, the biggest

single word you'll hear repeated over and over again is luck.

You did a wonderful job, wonderful.

On one of the shows that I was doing,

a show called "Danger," which was a good melodrama, Tuesday

night's, 10:00 to 10:30, we had found a very good writer

by name of Reginald Rose.

Reggie wrote "12 Angry Men."

It was done on, I believe it was Philco on NBC

and had been a successful television show.

When he had the offer to make it a movie, he jumped at it.

The offer came from Henry Fonda, who

was producing at that time, wanted to start

producing his own movies.

And here again, luck came into it.

I had been working with Reggie on live television stuff.

We liked each other enormously and he said to Hank, listen,

you know who I'd love to have direct this, mentioned me.

Before I had gotten into television,

I was running a workshop down in the Village.

It was called the Actor's Workshop.

Two of the people in the workshop-- there were about 40

of us-- were in "Mister Roberts," in which Henry

Fonda was starring in New York.

And so they asked him to come down and see this play.

They both had parts in it and he came.

So when Reggie came to him with my name, he said, oh yeah,

I saw something Off-Broadway of his.

It was good.

It was damn good.

Fine, take him.

That simple.

I didn't have to audition.

I didn't have to have a discussion with anybody.

United Artists, which put up the money,

they were totally courageous about giving directors

their first movie, and off we went.

I didn't even have to meet and say what my vision was

of the-- I'm laughing at that because that's,

of course, the great cliche.

What's your vision of this movie?

399 BC, The Death of Socrates.

You are there.

Walter Cronkite reporting.

399 BC in Athens, Greece, the Hellenistic world

is waiting the climax of the trial and condemnation

of the philosopher, Socrates.

Before the sun goes down today, Socrates

must, according to Athenian law, perform his own execution

and drink the poison hemlock.

We take you now to Athens outside the prison

where Socrates is being held.

All things are as they were then except you are there.

This is Harry Marble.

We are watching the sinking sun here and counting the minutes

in the waning light.

Just behind that wall is the cell in which

Socrates is awaiting then end.

I had moved into television in the early '50s,

and that was so exhilarating, the thrill

of, number one, a place to work, and a place to work steadily.

Citizen Aristophanes, one moment.

Do you think there is any chance that Socrates

might yet be saved?

I hope that he will.

I think that he will not.

But valuing what is most precious to me,

my greatest concern at the moment is to protect myself.

I mean I was doing at one

point 60 or 70 shows a year.

Now even if you take a small average of let's say six actors

a show-- but the casts certainly on "You Are There"

were more than that-- so let's see, six times 70

is 420 actors, different actors to work with in a year's time.

God knows how many different writers, production people,

video engineers, audio men.

The exposure was brilliant.

Citizens!

I must be heard!

I vote a hearing.

That is Meletus speaking now.

He was the main accuser at the trial.

In the marketplace, there are people

who are howling for my life, the same people who

urged me to accuse Socrates.

Oh, is this justice?

Is this reason?

I did not want Socrates to be condemned to death.

I thought he would be fined as I would have

been and gladly paid it had the jury

found my accusations false.

Where are you now, those of you who voted against Socrates?

Why don't you defend me?

I did my duty as a citizen.

I spoke for Athens, for democracy.

I don't understand you people.

I mean, all these picky little points you keep bringing up,

they don't mean nothing.

You saw this kid just like I did.

You're not going to tell me you believe that phony story

about losing the knife and that business

about being at the movies.

Look, you know how these people lie.

It's born in them.

I mean, what the heck?

I don't have to tell you.

They don't know what the truth is.

And let me tell you, they don't need any real big reason

to kill someone either, no sir.

They get drunk.

Oh, they're real big drinkers, all of them.

You know that.

And bang, someone's lying in the gutter.

Well nobody's blaming them for it.

That's the way they are by nature, you know what I mean?

Violent.

Where are you going?

Human life don't mean as much to them as it does to us.

Look.

They're lushing it up and fighting all the time

and if somebody gets killed, so somebody gets killed.

They don't care.

Oh sure, there are some good things about them too.

Look, I'm the first one to say that.

I've known a couple who were OK, but that's the exception,