The camera effortlessly scans the courtroom, grasping all of its occupants in view. We find our place as a man stands, cut to a medium close-up when he fully rises. His gaze reaches past the camera and instead is positioned at those that make up this judicial audience.
This man, Bartolomeo Vanzetti. sternly proclaims his innocence of the charges that he and his associate, Nicola Sacco, are accused of. Vanzetti continues his monologue, speaking of his quest for a just world free of oppression and discrimination. His eyes systematically trace the courtroom, being sure to address all who come to witness as well as judge and try. The camera then slowly takes a few steps back to allow the scale of this speech to grow, now revealing Sacco sitting beside Vanzetti with a sedated and withdrawn guise.
Vanzetti’s controlled gestures reaffirm his own words; standing by his own convictions and ideals in the face of execution. He refuses to renounce his beliefs or accept any plea bargain that maintains guilt. He keeps his gaze locked on those that work to convict him. He understands that he and Sacco will outlast them--for they have become symbols, a strong representation of the social injustice that so often plagues the legal system.
As Vanzetti and Sacco conclude their closing statements, we briefly sit with the courtroom. Looking out on the crowd of people that make up the room, we can feel the silence fill the empty space. The thunderous and damning Gavel then strikes and echoes through the courtroom, filling our ears with dread.
Nominated for Picture This Post BEST OF 2023
I feel this review highlights the tension throughout SACCO & VANZETTI. Relying on film devices such as the camera’s movement or the reveal of scenery Becker mounts pressure emulating what appears to be an intense film. This intensity is underscored as Becker transports us into characters’ shoes as he writes their POV’s.