It's fascinating, in theory, to take the premise of 12 Angry Men a lone juror believes a murder defendant is innocent, then tries to sway his fellow jurors and transplant it to Moscow. Yet Nikita Mikhalkov's movie 12, an Oscar nominee last year, has none of the crisp passion or suspense of the 1957 Sidney Lumet version; it's bloated, heavy-handed, and lugubrious. Each juror, with a misery so blustery it becomes deadeningly repetitious, acts out his own nationalistic struggle as they all weigh the fate of a young Chechen accused of killing his adoptive Russian father. C


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