The vast majority of lawyers never see the inside of a court room. That’s something the general public rarely hears. In fact, the most important lesson I took from my single year of law school was, “If you go to trial, you’re not doing your job.” Perhaps if I’d finished law school, I’d have known better what to do with that. For now, I’m using it to comment on meek crusader Roman J. Israel, Esq. (Denzel Washington), a man who dreams of everybody getting their day in court. And, fellow Americans, if you are truly of the opinion that legal justice is not happening because this country of 1.22 million lawyers either lacks the manpower or isn’t spending enough time/energy on judicial matters, well, I’m not sure we are ever going to see eye-to-eye. While crusaders are valued, I guarantee one thing the United States doesn’t need is more litigation.
Roman J. Israel, Esq. is the kind of lawyer who doesn’t see the inside of courtrooms. While this is fairly common for many lawyers, it isn’t for defense attorneys, a gig Israel works almost exclusively. His meager practice included the face of the firm, a trial lawyer, and a behind-the-scenes man who does all the work. The latter guy is Roman Israel. The process works fine so long as the face of the firm doesn’t, you know, die. And there it is; the big head has a heart attack, the man behind the curtains is visible, and suddenly all roads lead to Roman. Gosh, there’s now a 50% reduction in lawyers at this law firm. What are we gonna do about that? For all Roman’s geeky legal acumen, he’s slow to cotton on to the fact that the firm’s function fails following frontman frailty.
Uh oh, Roman, you’re out a job. How will you ever be able to afford your lack-of-car, crappy dysfunctional apartment, and peanut butter ‘n’ bread habit? Seriously, I would value Roman’s entire lifestyle at under $1,000/month, and that includes rent and utilities. A splurge for Roman is a used vinyl jazz record. We are quite a ways from the slick used car salesman who represented Tom Hanks in Philadelphia. Undermined by permanent dishevel, he obviously isn’t spending money on food, clothes, hair, transportation, cable, appearance, drugs, entertainment, hobbies, or anything else Americans spend money on. He’s been living the life of a brilliant defense attorney on the salary of a McDonald’s register jockey.
And just when you want to like the guy for the Spartan lifestyle contrasting his given name, Roman fails to play nice. Friend of the firm and high powered attorney George Pierce (Colin Farrell) comes to claim the cases. Lacking a future and a present, Roman still manages to tell George to stick it. That’s way bold, Urkel. Still lacking for a job, Roman then shows at a legal advocacy group meeting to speak and offer advice. And this child of another generation manages to piss off denizens of the 21st century with archaic notions of chivalry and advocacy. For a shy man, Roman sure does rub people the wrong way.
The appeal of Roman J. Israel, Esq. is a challenge. For most of this film, I could get behind the titular nerd. This despite an opening in which Roman accuses himself of selling out before a
massive clock rewind. Roman’s life ain’t hookers ‘n’ smack; he admits that he has traded comfort for values – this is the appeal of the film, sort of a George Bailey crystal ball look at what your life would be like if all you cared about was advocacy. The problem is that high morals make for boring films, especially when the advocate himself goes uncherished. So when we do finally get to Roman Israel’s sell-out, it seems out-of-place. I can understand a desire for comfort, Mr. Israel, but what is your life suddenly about that your values lack value?
I suppose Roman J. Israel, Esq. is a good look at the downside of fighting the good fight. There’s nothing enviable about the life Roman has chosen for himself. Hand-in-hand with this message is the film’s inverse message that the more you sell your values, the better your life will get. While this is a common thesis, it isn’t necessarily true and I’m not sure the film does itself any favors by taking this tack. Roman J. Israel, Esq. wasn’t destined to be Norma Rae by any stretch of the imagination, but I would have liked it better for the effort.
My ass this guy’s trying to save
But admittedly, he’s not my fave
My tastes, suspended
I’m being defended
By the likes of “Dollar Store Dave”
Rated PG-13, 129 Minutes
Director: Dan Gilroy
Writer: Dan Gilroy
Genre: The life of a voluntary have-not
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: Windmill tilters
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: El Lay Lawyers
