Directed by Norman Jewison

Written by Valerie Curtin and Barry Levinson

Starring Al Pacino, Jack Warden, John Forsythe, Lee Strasberg, Christine Lahti, Craig T. Nelson, Jeffrey Tambor, Sam Levene, Robert Christian, Thomas G. Waites, Larry Bryggman, and Dominic Chianese

Amusingly over-the-top at certain points while being heartbreakingly solemn a lot of the time, this courtroom drama compels me with its tour of a defense attorney’s trials and tribulations, especially with Al Pacino turning in what has to be one of the best performances in his whole career. He envelops himself in the commitment that Arthur Kirkland is pouring out into his work—a line of work that’s forcing this lawyer to reckon more and more directly with how outrageously unfair our justice system is designed to be. It’s a framework that doesn’t give a crap about looking after the little people and handing over protections that they inherently deserve, but oh, the people in the seats of power can get all the privileges they want. And the indignant and exhausted resentment that keeps building up in Arthur’s core against this one-sided structure—it sincerely radiates from him thanks to the strength of Pacino’s portrayal that conveys how much the stress and guilt of these cases is wearing Arthur down. Hell, there’s a lighter example of the anxiety he undergoes in the form of a helicopter ride that he takes with the borderline suicidal Judge Francis Rayford, and let me tell you, Pacino’s dedication to showing off how much this flight is fraying at Arthur’s nerves is what helps this bizarre sequence land as one of my favorite parts of the film. It’s not even all that necessary, and I really am left wondering why Rayford had to drag him along for that nonsense. But ultimately, I wouldn’t ask for it to be excised at all. It somehow doesn’t jar me out of the narrative under Norman Jewison’s direction. It’s a beat of silliness that manages to smoothly slot in with a tale that spends plenty of its time in much more serious territory. Granted, we do also squeeze in more silliness through a scene like the plate-filled nervous breakdown, but that’s somewhat different because it’s tiptoeing a thin line between the comedy and the drama of what’s going on rather than being straight-up comedic with its ridiculousness.

I’ll admit that I get initially confused by the movie’s choice to take a slice-of-life approach to the different aspects of Arthur’s world instead of concentrating on the development of his case in which he has to defend Judge Henry T. Fleming from a charge that alleges he beat up and raped a young woman. While there are moments where I wonder if this movie is hopping around between the subplots a bit too much, I ultimately think they blend together into a proper lens on Arthur’s day-to-day path in regard to what he’s dealing with in his profession. We’re getting a small glimpse through these two hours that we spend with him, and it ends up landing in a down-to-earth fashion that further encourages us to sympathize with him and the struggling clients he’s attempting to help out. There’s one case particularly that reaches a devastating conclusion, with Pacino succeeding at summoning up the shame and upset that’s coursing through Arthur in this grim moment, and this is where the stakes amp up even higher to communicate more overtly how deeply unjust and cruel this system is. It all escalates to a satisfying payoff in the finale, which revolves around a monologue that I’d seen a bit of repeatedly on Instagram. Even outside of the context of the movie, it’s gripping to watch Arthur dish that out with such fire in his soul, and my expectations aren’t disappointed when I’m able to witness him delivering that at the end of the narrative. It’s so cathartic, even while it’s saddening that Arthur has had to progress to this explosive point after constantly confronting the systemic obstacles of his work. It says a lot about the power of this tale that it’s capable of maintaining its high quality through those final moments before the credits roll—those final moments that could have undercut the tone with their goofiness. But nope, it all coheres together into a story that respects the grave weight of what it’s handling while nimbly sneaking some laughs into the affair.

Shout-out to the supporting cast for the extra ways in which they add to the film with their own little personalities, including Jack Warden (the stark contrast that his exhilarated delight has against Arthur’s terror in the helicopter ride is a standout moment) and Jeffrey Tambor (he fully plunges himself into the askew nature of his role, including when he does away with his hair). They enhance what’s already a riveting time, and now I’m left to recommend …And Justice for All if you haven’t had the chance to let the authentic heart of its tale get you wrapped up in it.

My final rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars