Scott Turow’s novel, Presumed Innocent, a legal thriller published in 1987, was a pre-Grisham literary sensation within the genre. Bookstores couldn’t keep copies on the shelves. While Turow’s following tomes never caught fire like Presumed Innocent, it did result in a film starring Harrison Ford and directed by the great Alan J. Pakula. While the film received strong reviews and was no embarrassment at the box office, there was still a slight feeling of disappointment over the film’s reception. I think people (especially those that devoured the book) expected a little more from the film, and the movie seems to have largely disappeared from memory. I’ve seen the film twice, and both times it felt just a little bit formulaic and too stolid to achieve lift off.
Apple TV’s eight episode limited series version of Turow’s most famous work (starring Jake Gyllenhaal in the Ford role) aims to better Pakula and Ford’s modest success from nearly 35 years ago.
After viewing the first two episodes of the series (created by David E. Kelly), the difference between the two projects is clear within the first five minutes. The energy level is higher, Jake Gyllenhaal’s prosecutor Rusty Sabich evokes a greater level of anxiety than Ford after learning of the murder of a fellow prosecutor he had an affair with (nearly destroying his own family), and the editing is sharper.
The show updates the source material to the current day, and the book and film translate to modern times with ease. Cell phones aside, the story is essentially the same, but the how it’s done part is what matters. Plainly spoken Kelley’s Presumed Innocent is more dynamic than Pakula’s.
Gyllenhaal, one of the best actors of our generation who somehow is seldom spoken of as such, is convincing from the prologue-like opening of his Sabich explaining to a jury his burden of proof, his intent to meet it, and his request that the 12 members of the jury hold him accountable to the “beyond a reasonable doubt” standard. You believe in him and his confidence immediately.
One of the many aspects of Gyllenhaal’s career I’ve enjoyed is the unpredictability of it. Just look at his last five projects:
A remake of Road House that no one was asking for, but that Gyllenhaal classed up nicely. Guy Ritchie’s The Covenant (as an aside, when did we reach the moment when one of Ritchie’s films deserved to have his name in the title?—but I digress, the movie is one of the director’s best). Ambulance from director Michael Bay, a film that I swear the notes from Bay to Gyllenhaal must have been “SHOUT EVERY LINE!” The Guilty, a solid sleeper of a film from Antoine Fuqua. And then Spider-Man: Far From Home where he played the villain Mysterio.
I don’t know that anyone would consider any of those popcorn munchers high-grade cinema, but they were all better for Gyllenhaal’s presence. While I certainly prefer him in upper class cinema like Brokeback Mountain, Nightcrawler, Prisoners, and Nocturnal Animals, I have taken some strange pleasure in his recent more commercial turns. He elevates even the most modest material.
Presumed Innocent may be a pulpy mystery, but thanks to the efforts of Gyllenhaal, Kelley, and the supporting cast (a special note of praise for the always wonderful Bill Camp (who plays Raymond Horgan, the beleaguered state attorney who is facing a difficult election). High marks should also be given to Ruth Negga as Sabich’s wife Barbara, and Renate Reinsve as Carolyn, the murdered prosecutor who is shown in flashback.
Kelley’s version of Presumed Innocent doesn’t for a second lose sight of the potboiler elements that made the book such a success, but he also goes deeper into the politics of Chicago and the in-fighting between Horgan and Sabich with fellow prosecutors Nico Della Guardia (a smarmy O-T Fagbenle, best known for his work on A Handmaid’s Tale) and Tommy Rigo (the always terrific Peter Sarsgaard). Della Guardia and Rigo are aiming for Horgan and Sabich’s jobs to such a degree that you can almost see the froth building around their mouths.
Originally, Horgan puts Sabich on Carolyn’s case, but the political winds turn in such a way that Sabich is removed and replaced by Horgan in a scene that starts off testy as one might expect, but turns volcanic when Sabich’s affair with the deceased comes to light. The revelation doesn’t just set off alarms among his fellow attorneys (making Sabich a suspect), but additional horrifying facts (no fair telling) creates problems at home when Sabich has to make his wife aware that the affair that nearly destroyed their marriage is once again a household issue.
While it’s still quite early in the show, the pressure cooker that Gyllenhaal’s character is under feels much more immediate than Ford’s did in the film version. Ford largely underplayed the role, while Gyllenhaal makes it clear his Rusty Sabich is barely holding it together (in front of almost everyone he comes into contact with). Neither actor’s portrayal is wrong, just different. Ford internalizes the strain, whereas Gyllenhaal teeters more obviously on the brink.
Both actors matched the style of their versions’ intentions, and while this may come down to a matter of taste, I have thus far found Gyllenhaal’s take more emotionally effective. There is a scene in episode two where Negga puts Gyllenhaal on the spot in front of their teen children that is masterfully played by both actors, showcasing the hurt, anger, and bitterness that an exposed affair can bring to a family.
What is particularly effective is how Gyllenhaal’s Sabich is completely convincing as a man who loves two women for completely different reasons. In just the space of two episodes, Gyllenhaal makes you believe in his affection for his wife, and also his inability to dismiss the heat between him and Carolyn, which is both sexual, but also something more. The emotional brutality between Gyllenhaal and Negga showcased when they meet with their therapist is palpable as Rusty admits his obsession with Carolyn in front of Barbara.
Episode two concludes with Sabich in a state of desperation, begging the unseated Horgan for help, and then making a series of decisions that make sense except for the fact that Sabich is a suspect, and using his access and expertise to investigate his own case is surely a path filled with landmines. Sabich is used to being on the other end of the legal telescope. The end that peers in, that delivers search warrants at dawn, the side that has the power. No one can fully judge an eight-episode series by the first two installments, but what I can say about those first two hours of the show is that I can’t wait to see how this plays out—even if the ending remains familiar by matching that of the book and the film.
As I said earlier, it’s the “how it’s done” that matters most. And the early evidence leads me to believe that this freshened up version of Presumed Innocent is going to be done very well. Very well, indeed.