With 1957’s 12 Angry Men, we look at an unusual kind of drama: one set almost entirely in a single room. We view a jury as they go to deliberate a murder case.

For 11 of the jurors, this seems to be an open and shut case so they quickly decide that the suspect (John Savoca) killed his father and should be found guilty. However, Juror #8 (Henry Fonda) thinks there’s a reasonable doubt about the kid’s guilt and argues this line.

Since the verdict must be unanimous, this creates many arguments. Tempers escalate as the 12 jurors deliberate over the case.

Nearly 70 years after its release, Men remains influential and impressive, though it does show its age at times. Adapted from a 1954 live TV production, the framework that binds the characters to the single room acts as both a strength and a weakness, though the positive elements dominate.

I think the setting increases the tension inherent in the story, as the tightness and claustrophobia prevent too many opportunities for release. Even when the characters take a short break from deliberations, they still get stuck with each other in the confined space.

They can’t escape each other for more than a couple minutes at a time. That amps up the heat.

On a negative note, though, I think the setting requires director Sidney Lumet to adopt a few showy bits that don’t seem very natural. For instance, when Juror #10 (Ed Begley) releases all of his racial hostility, the others slowly leave the table and put their backs to him.

Yeah, we get the point, but this scene beats us over the head with their body language. It doesn’t feel realistic to me, as it comes across like something very staged.

Actually, the racial aspects of Men display its most substantial weakness, and I don’t mean that because all the cast members are white men. Men emerged right as the civil rights movement started to blossom, and it often feels like a product of that era.

We get periodic speeches intended to remind us that all men are equal and so forth. Of course, I agree with these sentiments, but the manner in which we hear these concepts feels dated almost 70 years later

The film doesn’t integrate these components in a smooth way. These moments always appear just a little too forced.

View these as small quibbles I aim at an otherwise strong film, though. Men boasts a simply outstanding cast and conveys its story in an economical manner.

We don’t get clumsy exposition for the characters. We learn a little about them in general terms, but the flick doesn’t pound us with those beats.

Instead, we simply get a taste for each personality and the actors make them into real people. We know almost no specifics about the backgrounds of these men – heck, we don’t even learn any of their names until the final shot – but the movie tells us everything we need to know in a smooth, subtle way.

Lumet also uses the camera well most of the time. Sure, we find some awkward shots like the ones I mentioned earlier, but usually Lumet ensures that the camera acts as a storytelling device.

For instance, when confrontational scenes occur, the camera tends to go in for a tight close-up. It relaxes when the sequence dictates.

This doesn’t happen in a ham-fisted and obvious way, however. The visual choices mesh with the story and make it more effective.

All of these factors combine to make a satisfying film. 12 Angry Men occasionally slips, but never for long. Instead, it manages to provide a bright, involving drama.

12 Angry Men appears in an aspect ratio of approximately 1.66:1 on this 4K UHD Disc. Though not flawless, the Dolby Vision image looked pretty solid.

The biggest distraction stemmed from grain. Hoo boy, did the movie display a lot of graininess!

That was a consistent presence throughout the film, and it tended to make the image a little murkier than I’d like. However, this was almost certainly a vestige of the original photography. Heavy grain impacted both the DVDs and the prior Criterion Blu-ray, so I suspect that it’s just inherent to the original photography.

The 4K UHD demonstrated consistently good definition. Virtually no problematic soft shots emerged, as the flick appeared accurate and distinctive despite all the grain.

I noticed no issues with shimmering or jaggies, and edge haloes remained absent. Print flaws never marred the presentation. Blacks were deep and tight, and shadows showed good definition. HDR gave whites and contrast nice punch, even if all that grain restricted them. Overall the presentation impressed.

I also felt reasonably satisfied with the LPCM monaural soundtrack of 12 Angry Men. To call this an unambitious mix would be an understatement.

The track offered very little score, and effects were essentially restricted to the creaks of chairs and the bumps of closed doors. Both sounded acceptable, though they generally were rather thin and without much range.

Speech accounted for every important aspect of the mix. At all times, the dialogue was intelligible and fairly natural.

Some lines could be a bit brittle, but that wasn’t a major concern so speech remained acceptably concise given the track’s age. Nothing here excelled, but the audio was perfectly solid for something as old and low-key as this production.

How did the 4K UHD compare to the Criterion Blu-ray from 2011? Both came with identical audio.

As for the Dolby Vision UHD, it lost some light edge haloes and print flaws from the Blu-ray and also boasted stronger blacks and definition. Though the grainy source meant this never became a visual showcase, it represented the movie well.

The 4K UHD repeats the 2011 BD's extras on a separate Blu-ray disc, and we open with the television version of 12 Angry Men. Directed by Franklin Schaffner, this one runs 50 minutes, 42 seconds. Obviously it’s a quicker, rougher take on the story, and it’s significantly less satisfying.

I’d love to have seen the TV version first, as I imagine it’d be more enjoyable when seen without comparison to the more polished movie. The TV edition certainly isn’t bad, and both clearly share many similarities.

The feature film simply feels more complete, like it’s a final product and the TV version’s a rough draft. It’s great to see the TV movie and it’s certainly interesting, but it’s not nearly as good as the theatrical version.

(Note that most of the cast is unique to the TV version, but two actors would reprise their roles in the feature film. The 1957 edition brings back Joseph Sweeney and George Voskovec.)

We can watch an introduction from Paley Center for Media curator Ron Simon. He chats for 14 minutes, four seconds as he discusses TV in the mid-1950s as well as aspects of the era’s live drama and this version of 12 Angry Men. Simon delivers a nice overview of details related to the TV production and its participants.

A few featurettes follow. From TV to the Big Screen goes for 25 minutes, 33 seconds and provides notes from film scholar Vance Kepley as he looks at the TV version, the development of the big-screen adaptation, cast, crew and the shoot, the film’s reception, influence and legacy.

At the start, Kepley tends to repeat info we heard from Simon’s piece, but once he heads toward the feature film, he gets into unique material. Kepley covers all the bases well and creates an informative piece; it’s too bad he didn’t sit for a full commentary.

A collection of Interviews with Director Sidney Lumet fill 22 minutes, 58 seconds. In these, Lumet talks about his early involvement in theater and movies, getting into TV directing and then films, and making and releasing 12 Angry Men. The different interview sessions combine well to create a coherent piece in which Lumet delivers a lot of good notes about his life and career.

For more about the director, we get the nine-minute, 28-second Reflections on Sidney. Here Fail-Safe screenwriter Walter Bernstein chats about his own career and aspects of working with Lumet. We get a nice first-person perspective in this interesting chat.

We hear about a couple of other film participants next. On Reginald Rose goes for 14 minutes, 59 seconds as Paley Center for Media curator Ron Simon discusses the 12 Angry Men story/screenwriter. Simon tells us about Rose’s life and career, with an emphasis on the latter. This turns into another useful, informative piece.

Next we find On Boris Kaufman. It lasts 38 minutes, 21 seconds as cinematographer John Bailey talks about Men director of photography Kaufman. We learn a bit about Kaufman’s life and a lot about his work, with plenty of examples. Bailey provides a good perspective on his predecessor and helps make this a rich examination of Kaufman’s photography.

Another teleplay shows up via 1956’s Tragedy in a Temporary Town. Written by Reginald Rose and directed by Sidney Lumet, this episode of The Alcoa Hour goes for 55 minutes, 11 seconds and stars Lloyd Bridges and Jack Warden.

At a makeshift construction camp, a girl gets assaulted. The inhabitants accuse a Puerto Rican worker and a vigilante mob plans to take justice into their own hands before one man (Bridges) stands up against them.

One can clearly see a connection between Town and 12 Angry Men, as both offer tales in which one man bucks the masses and their emotional/racist reactions. Perhaps because I don’t have a (superior) movie against which to compare it, I like Town more than the TV version of Men. It sags a bit at times, mainly when it leaves the action for some personal/family moments among the characters, but it’s still an interesting take on the climate of the era.

In addition to the film’s Trailer, the set includes a 24-page Booklet. Along with credits and movie-related art, it provides an article from novelist/essayist/law professor Thane Rosenbaum. This isn’t one of Criterion’s most extensive booklets, but it’s a nice addition to the package.

After almost 70 years, 12 Angry Men occasionally shows its age. However, it succeeds much more than it falters, and it remains a gripping piece of drama. The 4K UHD boasts very good picture, perfectly positive audio and a nice roster of supplements. The Criterion 4K UHD becomes the best release of this excellent film and earns a high recommendation from me.