A man is picked for jury duty. He seems like a solid enough fellow, maybe a little melancholy, and more handsome than most, because he’s played by Nicholas Hoult, whose eyes are an almost impossibly bright shade of blue. He shows up the first day of the trial and a look of panic plays out across his face. It seems he might have done something in his past that could have direct bearing on whether or not the defendant is found guilty. If he comes forward, he might end up behind bars himself.

Liar Liar, the 1997 Jim Carrey comedy about a dishonest man whose son makes a birthday wish condemning his dad to tell the truth for 24 hours, could have been about a doctor. Or a sanitation worker. Or a restaurateur. But what fun would any of that be? No, Carrey’s Fletcher Reede had to be a lawyer, because in the public imagination lawyers lie — constantly, for a living, without shame.

One is an unrepentant racist. Another is filled with rage for his grown son. There’s the guy who has Yankees tickets burning a hole in his pocket. There’s an ad man, a stockbroker, a proud immigrant and a blue collar working man. And there’s the stoic architect — the one who actually wants to hear everyone out, who takes his responsibility as a juror with the seriousness appropriate when a defendant’s life is at stake. Sixty-seven years after its release, 12 Angry Men remains an explosive drama of small-scale democracy, bottled up in a jury room where individual prejudices and passions gradually coalesce into a collective voice.