Daniel Adler and the 12 Angry Men pt.3

The filming was progressing smoothly; we were even ahead of schedule, thanks to the experience and talent of the cast and the director. We were going to start shooting the final act tomorrow, and Ron planned to wrap it up by the end of next week.

I fanned myself with some paper as the heat on the set was turned up to mimic the environment described in the script. As time went on, the room had to get hotter, causing the jurors to sweat and take their jackets off. This added to their discomfort and anger, creating more tension in the room.

I watched as we reshot the final part of Act 2. Ron wanted one final take, and the actors looked disheveled and angry. Perhaps some of them were genuinely frustrated, as Ron had been demanding more shots of the same scene many times today.

J.K. Simmons, playing Juror 3, was in the middle of a heated exchange with Tom Hanks, playing Juror 8.

"It's my guess that the old man was trying to get to the door, heard someone racing down the stairs, and assumed that it was the boy," Tom said, his voice steady and calm, embodying Juror 8's character.

Pedro Pascal, as Juror 6, nodded and said, "I think that's possible."

J.K. Simmons, as Juror 3, erupted. "Assumed? Now listen to me, you people. I've seen all kinds of dishonesty in my day... but this little display takes the cake." He turned to Michael Stuhlbarg, who played Juror 4. "Tell him, will you?"

Michael sat silently, his expression thoughtful. J.K. then strode over to Tom, his fury evident.

"You come in here with your heart bleeding all over the floor about slum kids and injustice, and you make up these wild stories, and you've got some soft-hearted old ladies listening to you. Well, I'm not. I'm getting real sick of it." He addressed the entire room. "What's the matter with you people? This kid is guilty! He's got to burn! We're letting him slip through our fingers here."

Tom remained calm. "Our fingers. Are you his executioner?"

J.K. took a step closer, rage in his eyes. "I'm one of 'em."

"Perhaps you'd like to pull the switch," Tom suggested, his voice unwavering.

"For this kid? You bet I'd like to pull the switch!" J.K. shouted.

"I'm sorry for you," Tom said softly.

"Don't start with me," J.K. retorted, his voice growing louder.

"What it must feel like to want to pull the switch!" Tom continued, his calm demeanor infuriating Juror 3 even more.

"Shut up!" J.K. yelled.

"You're a sadist," Tom stated firmly.

"Shut up!" J.K. screamed, even louder this time.

"You want to see this boy die because you personally want it—not because of the facts," Tom accused.

"Shut up!" J.K. lunged at Tom, but was quickly restrained by two of the jurors. He struggled, his eyes wild with anger, as Tom watched him calmly.

"Let me go. I'll kill him. I'll kill him!" J.K. screamed, his voice filled with rage.

Tom's voice was soft, almost a whisper. "You don't really mean you'll kill me, do you?"

J.K. stopped struggling, his body going still. He stared at Tom, his anger slowly giving way to a realization. All the jurors watched in silence, the tension in the room palpable.

"Cut!" Ron called out, breaking the silence.

The room exhaled collectively, the intensity of the scene still hanging in the air. Ron looked pleased. "Great work, everyone. That was exactly what I wanted."

"Oh great, I thought you would never get it," Christoph Waltz said, his voice still in character, eliciting tired laughs from the rest of the cast.

The day ended like every other for the last three weeks. We spent time reviewing the day's footage, meticulously analyzing each take.

However, the end of the day also brought another round of a recurring disagreement between me, Ron, Dave, and Sam about whether the movie should be released in black and white or color. Ron and Sam were firmly in favor of color, believing that modern audiences wouldn't be interested in a black-and-white film. Dave and I, on the other hand, felt that releasing it in black and white would make it stand out during the Oscar campaign.

"It's 2010," Ron said, frustration creeping into his voice. "Audiences expect color. It's what they're used to. They might not even give a black-and-white film a chance."

"I get that, Ron," I replied, trying to keep my tone even. "But the black and white will make it unique. It'll feel more intense. And for the Oscars, it'll make it stand out."

Sam chimed in, "But we also have to think about the box office. We need people to actually see the film. Color has a broader appeal."

Dave nodded in agreement with me, "I see your point, Sam. But think about Schindler's List .Black and white made that film iconic. It gave it a gravitas that color couldn't have. 12 Angry Men can achieve that same impact."

The argument continued, each side presenting valid points, but it felt like we were going in circles. The tension in the room was thick, and I could feel my patience wearing thin. I needed a moment to clear my head.

"I'm going to step out for a bit," I said, standing up and heading towards the door. "I need some fresh air."

No one protested as I walked out of the room and into the corridors of the studio. It was already getting late, and I didn't want to re-enter the room. As I was about to leave, I heard footsteps and a voice from behind me.

"Excuse me," a woman said. I turned to see a very beautiful redheaded woman walking towards me. As she got closer, I recognized her. It was Bryce Dallas Howard, the actress and also Ron Howard's daughter.

"Hi," she said. "Do you know where my father is? I mean, Ron Howard," she quickly corrected.

"Yes, your father is inside that room. He's in the middle of an argument; maybe you can save him," I said with a smile.

She laughed. "Thank you for your help," she said and walked past me to the room. Then she stopped and turned back to me. 

"Wait, I have seen you before," she said, a look of realization striking her. "Oh, you are the author of Toy Story!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, I am," I replied.

Walking over to me, she said, "My son loved all three of them, and the movies too."

"I'm glad he liked them," I said.

"My dad mentioned you wrote the script for the movie he's directing. I am going to bring Theo here; he would love to meet you."

"Bring him over anytime," I said.

"Great," she said with a smile. "I'll see you later," she added, walking away towards the room where her father was.

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Tom Hanks, playing Juror 8, spoke quickly. "I want another vote."

Mark Ruffalo, as the Foreman, nodded. "Okay, there's another vote called for. I guess the quickest way is a show of hands. Anybody object?"

No one did.

"All right. All those voting not guilty, raise your hands."

Mackenzie Astin, Stanley Tucci, Pedro Pascal, Tom Hanks, Jim Broadbent,Bob Odenkirk and Christoph Waltz raised their hands immediately. Then, slowly, Jon Hamm raised his hand. The Foreman looked around the table carefully, then he too raised his hand, counting silently.

"Nine," the Foreman said. The hands went down. "All those voting guilty."

J.K. Simmons, Michael Stuhlbarg, and Gary Oldman raised their hands.

"Three," the Foreman announced. "The vote is nine to three in favor of acquittal."

Gary Oldman, playing Juror 10, stood up, visibly frustrated. "I don't understand you people. How can you believe this kid is innocent? Look, you know how those people lie. I don't have to tell you. They don't know what the truth is. And let me tell you, they—" Stanley Tucci, playing Juror 5, got up from the table, turned his back to it, and went to the window. "—don't need any real big reason to kill someone either. You know, they get drunk, and bang, someone's lying in the gutter. Nobody's blaming them. That's how they are. You know what I mean? Violent!"

Jim Broadbent, playing Juror 9, got up and did the same, followed by Christoph Waltz, playing Juror 11.

Gary Oldman continued, "Human life doesn't mean as much to them as it does to us. Hey, where are you going? Look, these people are drinking 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 to say that."

Tom Hanks, as Juror 8, stood up, and then Mackenzie Astin, as Juror 2, and Pedro Pascal, as Juror 6, followed him to the window.

Gary Oldman persisted, "I've known a few who were pretty decent, but that's the exception. Most of them; it's like they have no feelings. They can do anything. What's going on here?"

Mark Ruffalo, the Foreman, got up and went to the windows, followed by Bob Odenkirk, as Juror 7, and Jon Hamm, as Juror 12.

Gary Oldman was exasperated. "I'm speaking my piece, and you listen to me! They're no good. There's not a one of them who's any good. We better watch out. Take it from me. This kid on trial...."

J.K. Simmons, as Juror 3, sat at the table, toying with the knife, and Michael Stuhlbarg, as Juror 4, got up and started for the window. All had their backs to Gary Oldman.

"Well, don't you know about them? Listen to me! What are you doing? I'm trying to tell you something...." Gary Oldman trailed off as he realized he had lost his audience.

Only Michael Stuhlbarg sat at his seat as he trailed off. There was a dead silence. Then Michael spoke softly.

"Now shut up and sit down."

No one moved or spoke. Gary Oldman looked at him, then looked down at the table.

Gary Oldman muttered softly, "I'm only trying to tell you...."

"Cut!" Ron Howard yelled out. "Good work, everyone."

"I think this was the best part of the movie," Gary Oldman said as he walked from the set along with the others to watch the scene on the screen. 

"I like the way you wrote this scene, Daniel," Pedro Pascal added.

"You guys did great, especially you, Gary," I said.

"All in a day's work," Gary replied, his eyes fixed on the screen as the scene played back.

The filming was nearing its end now, with only a few days remaining. I was excited about how the audiences were going to react to it. If they loved it and the critics praised it also add in a couple of Oscars, my stock in Hollywood would rise like never before. That also meant there would be a lot of eyes on the DCU when it's announced in the future, as well as other projects I had planned.

'Guess Matt was right,' I thought to myself, a smile forming on my lips. 'I am becoming a media mogul.'

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