"Mr. Marshall may serve as co-council, but he may not speak. Mr. Friedman will try this case. Should he speak or have any unwarranted communication, I will find him in contempt of court immediately," says the judge with pure hatred in his eyes for the greatest lawyer of all time. "But sir, how can I possibly offer quality council to my client if I can't speak?" So, now here is Thurgood Marshall left with the task of defending an innocent Joseph Spell against charges of rape against a white woman and he must give ALL of his directions to a timid insurance lawyer by the name of Sam Friedman. For any lawyers reading this, try to imagine for one moment attempting to try ANY case in which your verbal ability has been taken away from you. It's not a fun thought, is it?
So, let's pose this question. Why would a judge put such a restriction on an attorney? Was it to give an ill prepared prosecution an advantage? Was it to give a white non-defense attorney the chance to show what he could do on the big stage? Or was it the fact that the judge knew Thurgood was beyond capable or proving Spell's innocence? Whatever the motivation, I'm sure we can all agree that unjust stipulation quickly put the defense at a disadvantage. However, there is a layer of beauty in this decision. It gives Marshall the chance to properly represent the NAACP and also show the necessity of people of color at a time where many whites wanted to see us hanging from a tree. This is illustrated by Friedman's horrified nature at having to be the main voice in trying this case. Though reluctant at first and for a good portion of the trial, Friedman eventually gets on board and realizes he and Thurgood have gotta be in this for the long haul.
As for the case itself, it's like most others. The actual truth lying somewhere in between both stories. This one proves no different. When Thurgood first meets with his client, he asks him straight up if he is indeed innocent. He swears to the gospel that he is. However, Eleanor Strubing accuses him of rape and attempted murder. As Thurgood begins to put together the missing pieces and holes in the story, it leads him to question his client as to whether or not he had consensual sex with his accuser. He first answers no a lie which Thurgood challenges and eventually gets the truth. Upon this discovery, Thurgood takes his defense in a different direction, attempting to discover why the accuser would make up such a heinous story. It is through this discovery that we are reminded of the timeframe for which the film takes place. Out of fear of discovery of her affair by her husband (driven by the potential of birthing Spell's child), a woman beater, Strubing attempts to frame Spell for rape and attempted murder, knowing her privilege and class will give her the edge over the dishonorably discharged vet and adulterer, Joseph Spell.
Now, we all know how it ends. Justice eventually prevails, Joseph Spell is allowed to go free, and Thurgood Marshall goes on to cement his legacy as the greatest lawyer of all time. The question that remains is how much has truly changed since that trial took place? Is it still safe for black men to be involved with white women on that level? Are people of color still viewed as equal to their counterparts in positions of authority? Some will quickly say yes, but before you jump to that "Post-Racial America" conclusion, let's examine some things real quick. If we lined up Donald Trump's resume against former POTUS Barack Obama, can you honestly say President Obama would have even been remotely considered for office, let alone elected? If he had gone on national television and said "Grab her right in the pussy," would there have been a place for him in office?
If Rick Pitino and Bobby Petrino were black men, would their previous scandals have gone so far overlooked as to still allow for employment? If Michael Vick was white, would mainstream media and society finally forgive him and accept that he had paid his debt to society? Why is it when Colin Kaepernick says there are serious unaddressed issues in America, he is told to leave the country, but Donald Trump says it and is elected president? Why is it when hockey players fight, it is deemed to be part of the game tradition, but NBA players fighting are thugs overly influenced by hip-hop culture? I'm sure you get the point by now, but these questions and so many others CANNOT be ignored in the midst of a discussion about whether or not we are truly living in a post-racial America.
Ultimately, thanks to a brilliant portrayal by Chadwick Boseman (who really seems to have found his niche portraying black historical figures) and balanced storytelling, Marshall serves as a refreshing reminder of both history and how far we still have to go.
