If you believe what you watch in the movies and on television, you would think that attorneys are really only good at yelling at one another. The reality is that they are best at whispering. In fact, they are experts at it.

“Runaway Jury” is a movie about lawyers and juries and people for that matter that don’t exist anywhere but in the movies. And that’s supposed to be okay because the point is entertainment, right? I guess it just irks me when a movie wants to be brainlessly entertaining and, at the same time, be about something important, you know, make a statement. This film shamelessly attempts to appeal to everyone and in doing so, presents a pretentious fantasy.

One day in New Orleans a disgruntled day trader turns on his former co-workers with a gun killing 11 and wounding others. Two years later, attorney Wendell Rohr (Dustin Hoffman) has been hired by the grieving widow of one of the brokers murdered that day to sue the gun manufacturers for negligently permitting illegal sales of the gun used by the day trader in his rampage. We meet Rohr right before he is going to trial before a jury on the big case. He is an experienced salesman whose personality has made him one Hell of a trial attorney.

In walks the money. The gun manufacturers hire Rankin Fitch (Gene Hackman) a jury consultant to aid their attorneys in defending Rohr’s attack on their way of business. Fitch is introduced in a clever way. He is slick and confident just the role for Hackman. Quickly, Hackman’s agents profile the jurors. One juror is Nicholas Easter (John Cusack) a guy who works in a mall store selling video games. He is smart and likable and typically chatty, as we have come to expect from anyone played by Cusack.

The film deals with voir dire (jury selection) and the trial itself. Instead of legal wrangling, we are given high-tech trickery in the form of Hackman’s team of jury tamperers. And I think that on some level these tactics could be legal. Since the film never spends any time educating us, we are not sure what is permitted and what is off limits. In fact, we are lost most of the time when, in reality, jury tampering couldn’t be this complex (here it looks like “Enemy of the State” or something). Ultimately, it comes down to money and weak people willing to do things that are unethical and illegal. Much of this movie is just all flash and no substance.

But what about the whispering? Attorneys are paid to keep secrets. That is what they do. They are ethically and professionally bound to do so. However, sometimes secrets have a way of getting leaked. Sometimes, they are leaked on purpose.

In “Runaway Jury,” there are no secrets, at least, nobody cares about keeping them quiet. For example, in one critical scene, while standing in broad daylight on the crowded courthouse steps, Rohr’s young jury consultant Lawrence Green (a slim Jeremy Piven) tells Rohr that Rankin’s men were responsible for burning Easter’s apartment. They don’t whisper, in fact, they are practically yelling at one another. And directly behind them is a news crew with a boom mic covering the trial. Green, at the end of their conversation, points this out to Rohr but the damage would already have been done. This film is filled with stuff like this; the general public and the news media would only have to stand behind any of the characters in order to get the scoop.

Now, I’m not going to be ridiculous and suggest that the filmmakers must make a movie in which all the critical dialogue and plot points are revealed in dark closets and sound proof rooms. But, come on, couldn’t the filmmakers have spent a little time safeguarding the key conversations? There is a scene where Hackman as Rankin meets with Cusack’s Easter in a public place when Easter is supposed to be under guard sequestered. Rankin is actually wearing a black raincoat/overcoat and a black fedora. This takes place in New Orleans and it never appears to be cold, so, I guess the idea was to make Rankin look like he is undercover. Wouldn’t it have been easier to just talk in a car or a hotel room or something?

Also, a lot of money is thrown around in this film. At one point, the price tag for fixing the jury gets up to 15 million dollars. I’m a criminal defense attorney and I’ve heard about folks who have killed folks for a whole lot less. Man, there has been talk of cases in which a Defendant was alleged to kill someone over something like $10. There is no way that 15 million dollars would be paid to fix the jury without somebody just suggesting that they intimidate or kill somebody first. I mean it just doesn’t make any sense.

Finally, the entire trial here is one right out of the movies. Instead of the high tech trials that really exist in these matters these days, we are given a hackneyed mini-trial with weak closings and blatant disregard for the law. Although I haven’t read the book, I doubt that Grisham would ever write stuff this thin. The low-tech approach employed by the plaintiff was completely inaccurate especially when we learn that Hoffman’s Rohr is capable of going to his law partners for 10 million dollars at one point.

But what about the entertainment? Well, “Jury” is very slick and entertaining. If you don’t have a law degree, you might not care. And there is a great scene in which Hackman and Hoffman square off. I actually wiggled with joy when Hoffman locks the door to the men’s room to have it out with Hackman. But these guys deserve better material and Hoffman has been in better lately just rent “Confidence.”

And there is a fight between Marlee (Rachel Weisz) and one of Rankin’s henchmen that is what audience’s are coming to expect these days. But if you want to see chick’s kick butt go see “Kill Bill Vol. 1” a second time.

The jury is made up of some cool character actors like Saturday Night Live’s Nora Dunn, “Flashdance’s” Jennifer Beals, and even an uncredited Luis Guzman. All of this talent is pretty much wasted. But in fairness, I think that the familiar faces are there to add a little more mystery to the story and to artificially throw us off like suggesting that these small characters will mean more in the end.

Regardless whether you buy into the entertaining movie fantasy of “Runaway Jury,” the truth is that these days jury tampering isn’t even necessary. With enough money and manpower, justice can be bought the old fashioned way: through outlawyering the opposition. We have seen this in the highly publicized cases. Still, I guess I’m not that cynical, juries can be the biggest mystery but trying to bribe them is far more risky that just trying to win your case.

Jonathan W. Hickman, 2003