T
wenty-five years ago,
20th Century Fox
Studios set up shop in
Monticello, Georgia,
to film a whodunit
comedy. The movie’s
director, Jonathan
Lynn—an Englishman with a law
degree from Cambridge—imposed
a rather unusual directive: All
courtroom scenes were to be
technically accurate.
The resulting movie, My Cousin
Vinny, quickly became an all-time
classic. In 2008, the American Bar
Association Journal named it the
third best legal movie of all time.
The two that ranked above: To Kill
a Mockingbird and Twelve Angry
Men. Intellectual heavyweights,
such as Justice Antonin Scalia, rate
it as their all-time favorite movie.
Marissa Tomei, then an unknown
actress without much screen
experience, won an Academy Award
for Best Supporting Actress.
Moreover, because of Lynn’s
insistence on proper courtroom
procedures, snippets from the movie
are used by law professors around
the country to teach evidence,
ethics, civility, criminal procedure
and trial advocacy. The movie has
demonstrated phenomenal staying
power, and memorable lines from
the film (“What is a ‘youte’?”) have
achieved cult status.
The story line is simple enough:
Two college students (Bill Gambini
and Stan Rothenstein) from New
England are traveling through
the deep South when they stop
for food at a convenience store—
the delightfully named “Sac-O-
Suds.” Shortly thereafter, they
find themselves in the clutches
of the local sheriff, charged with
murdering the clerk at the Sac-O-
Suds.
Five hundred miles from
home and with no funds to employ
counsel, they use their one phone
call to contact Vincent La Guardia
Gambini, Bill’s cousin, to come to
their aid. Vinny, a newly-minted
attorney from Brooklyn, New York,
arrives in the quintessential Southern
town along with his Chinese-food-
loving, unemployed hairdresser, car
expert/girlfriend, Mona Lisa Vito
(Tomei) as the proverbial fish out
of water.
Ten Things
Every Trial Lawyer
Could Learn From
Vincent La Guardia
Gambini
Summer 2016 • Voir Dire6
By Judge Joseph F. Anderson, Jr.
TWENTIETH CENTURY FOX FILM CORPORATION
Voir Dire • Summer 2016 7
Vinny’s leather jacket, silver-
tipped boots, and Brooklyn accent
make it apparent to everyone in
the courtroom that he is “not from
around here.” He has neither seen
nor tasted “a grit” before. Appearing
in a capital murder case immediately
after passing the bar exam, Vinny is
clearly in over his head.
In the courtroom, things “go
South” in short order. Vinny offends
the judge with his casual dress and
less than professional courtroom
demeanor. He lies to the judge about
his criminal trial experience. He is
twice held in contempt of court.
And, after each day’s adjournment,
he finds himself in hot water with
Mona Lisa, to whom he has promised
marriage, but with the nuptials to be
scheduled “after I win my first case.”
Things go so badly for Vinny that
moviegoers just knew he would end
up victorious, as he did.
The movie is actually a paean to
the American system of justice. Two
wrongfully accused individuals are
acquitted; and everyone (including
the prosecutor, defense attorney, and
the judge) walks out of the courtroom
delighted with the result. And Vinny
and Mona Lisa ride off into the
sunset in their Cadillac Coupe de
Ville to tie the knot.
It is easy to dismiss Vinny as
a bumbling, short-tempered and ill-
prepared lawyer who stumbles onto
the truth in the course of a trial that
he is clearly not ready for. However,
I submit that by the time Judge
Chamberlain Howell (Fred Gwynne)
dismisses all charges, Vinny has laid
down some teaching points that all
of us in the legal profession would do
well to study. Over the years, I have
watched My Cousin Vinny dozens
of times. In tribute to Vinny, I have
culled what I believe are his 10 most
salient characteristics that every
lawyer should strive to emulate.
1. Perseverance
Early in the film, we learn that
Vinny has failed the bar exam not
once, but five times! He succeeded,
however, on his sixth try. The ink
is barely dry on his law license
when he finds himself in hostile
territory defending a cousin who will
probably never pay him.
The local train, noisy pigs, a
plant whistle, and a screech owl
keep Vinny awake at night; Lisa
chooses an inappropriate time to
talk about her biological clock; and
the town’s only dry cleaner closes
“because of the flu” with Vinny’s
only suit locked inside. His judge is
a fastidious Yale Law graduate and a
stickler for the rules who obviously
does not observe casual Fridays.
Despite the many setbacks he
endures, Vinny’s devotion to his
clients and the cause of justice never
waivers. The lesson here: Good
lawyers are not quitters.
Abraham Lincoln’s remarkable
journey through a series of setbacks,
both legal and political, has been
well-chronicled. Another lawyer-
President, Theodore Roosevelt,
concisely laid down what should be
the credo for lawyers everywhere:
It is not the critic who counts, not
the man who points out how the
strong man stumbles, where the
doer of deeds could have done
them better. The credit belongs
to the man who is actually in the
arena; whose face is marred by
dust and sweat and blood; who
strives valiantly; who errs and
comes short again and again;
who knows the great enthusiasm,
the great devotion, and spends
himself in a worthy cause; who,
at the best, knows in the end the
triumph of high achievement;
and who, at the worst, if he fails,
at least fails while daring greatly,
so that his place shall never be
with those cold and timid souls
who know neither victory nor
defeat.
Comb the pages of history and
you will find countless examples of
lawyers who refused to give up in
and out of the courtroom.
2. Cross-Examination Part I
The late Irving Younger secured
his position in the pantheon of
great lawyers with lectures, books,
and articles on all aspects of trial
advocacy and evidence. Perhaps his
most widely-read article, Cicero on
Cross-Examination, boldly sets out
Younger’s “Ten Commandments of
Cross-Examination.” Hundreds of
articles have been written on the
subject of cross-examination, but,
in my view, no one comes close to
Younger in setting out the dos and
don’ts of this important aspect of
trial practice. Several of Younger’s
Commandments:
• Be brief.
• Short questions, plain words.
• Never ask a question to which
you do not know the answer.
• Minimize the opportunities for
the witness to explain.
• Do not ask the witness to
repeat the testimony he gave
on direct exam.
• Save the explanation for
summation.
In my courtroom, I sometimes
see lawyers violate Younger’s
precepts. I have my own theory why:
It’s Perry Mason’s fault. Lawyers
of my generation grew up watching
Raymond Burr portray Perry Mason,
a gravel-voiced, steely-eyed criminal
defense lawyer who never lost a
case. He usually coaxed a confession
out of someone else or revealed
the culprit during the preliminary
hearing. Sometimes it was the
witness on the stand who broke
down and confessed; other times it
Despite the many
setbacks he endures,
Vinny’s devotion
to his clients and
the cause of justice
never waivers.
was a spectator in the audience. The
important point is that this revelation
or confession always occurred at the
dramatic end of Mason’s scintillating
cross-examination.
My theory is that lawyers of
my generation, who grew up on a
steady diet of Perry Mason episodes,
earnestly or subconsciously believe
that sometime during their careers as
trial lawyers, they too will experience
the euphoria of a “Perry Mason
moment.” And they’ve passed it
down to the next generation.
So some of today’s lawyers
expect, by the sheer force of their
abilities as a cross-examiner, to
cajole a tearful confession (or at
least a valuable concession) from
the witness on the stand. As a result,
They question the witness endlessly;
they allow the witness to repeat the
direct testimony that the jury has
already heard. They ask a witness
to explain. They quarrel with the
witness. They ask the one question
too many — all in a futile attempt to
orchestrate a surprise ending.
Vinny, on the other hand, gets
it right. Thanks to writer Dale
Launer, we see a textbook example
of effective cross-examination.
Consider Vinny’s cross examination
of Ernie Crane, who lives in the
trailer next to the Sac-O-Suds. On
direct, Crane had identified Vinny’s
two clients as the perpetrators he
saw fleeing the Sac-O-Suds:
Q. What are these pictures of?
A. My house and stuff.
Q. House and stuff. And uhh,
Summer 2016 • Voir Dire8
Q. Seven bushes. So what do you
think? Is it possible you just saw
two guys in a green convertible
and not necessarily these two
particular guys?
A. Well, I suppose.
Q. I’m finished with this guy.
This simple, yet powerful,
colloquy drives home a critical
point—the witness did not have a
good opportunity to see the events
about which he testified on direct
examination. If this examination
were to occur in a real courtroom,
some attorneys would not be satisfied
with the pithy exchange set out above.
He or she would have to further
determine the exact dimensions of
the window; the method by which
the dirt had accumulated on the
window pane; the years of exposure
to oxidation required for the rust
to form on the screen; the leaf
formation and shedding process of
the trees; the genus and species
of the bushes (magnolia japonica
or magnolia grandiflora?); and the
distance, to the nearest inch, from
the house to the convenience store.
All of this detail, at best, would
likely diminish the significance
of the cross examination and, to
make it worse, waste time, annoy
the jury, and completely undermine
the central point to be made by the
cross examination.
3. Cross-Examination Part II
One important aspect of cross-
examination that Younger did not
teach is the fact that not all adverse
witnesses are created equal. And
different witnesses call for different
approaches to cross-examination.
Vinny obviously recognizes this as
he deftly takes on two additional eye
witnesses to the crime.
The first, Constance Riley, an
elderly African American female,
is a vulnerable and quite loveable
individual. She clearly has no agenda
and merely recites what she believes
her 80-something-year-old eyes saw
on the day of the crime.
Recognizing that a
confrontational approach to
cross-examination will be
counterproductive with such a
sympathetic witness, Vinny is the
what is this brown stuff in the
windows?
A. Dirt.
Q. Dirt? What is this rusty,
dusty, dirty looking thing over
your window?
A. It’s a screen.
Q. A screen. It’s a screen. What
are these really big things right
in the middle of your view from
the window of your kitchen to
the Sac-O-Suds? What do we
call these big things?
A. Trees?
Q. Trees? That’s right. Don’t be
afraid, just shout ‘em right out
when you know. Now, what are
these thousands of little things
that are on trees?
A. Leaves?
Q. Leaves. [Laughs] And these
bushy things between the trees?
A. Bushes.
Q. Bushes, right. So, Mr. Crane,
you could positively identify the
defendants for a moment of two
seconds looking through this
dirty window [indicating], this
crud covered screen [indicating],
these trees [indicating], with
all these leaves on them
[indicating], and I don’t know
how many bushes [indicating].
A. Looks like five.
Q. Uh un. Don’t forget this one
and this one.
A. Seven bushes.
TWENTIETH CENTURY FOX FILM CORPORATION
Voir Dire • Summer 2016 9
perfect gentleman on cross. He helps
the witness with her glasses. He asks
her when she last had her prescription
checked. And he performs a simple
in-court experiment that clearly
shows that the witness’s vision is
impaired. Then, rather than going
in for the kill, Vinny simply
shrugs his shoulders and asks,
“Whatdayathink?” She replies,
quite softly and apologetically, that
she needs a new pair of glasses.
Vinny’s approach is genuine—as
though he was casually speaking
with one of his mother’s dearest
friends.
Contrast that with Vinny’s
approach when cross-examining
Sam Tipton, the grits cook. Tipton
is a burly, gruff short-order cook
who yearns to do battle in the
courtroom. And Vinny obliges him.
Catching the flaw in his timeline,
and drawing upon recently-acquired
knowledge of how long it takes
to cook regular (i.e., non-instant)
grits, Vinny carefully locks him into
his timeline and then exposes the
fallacy of the witness’s recount of
the critical events.
Trial advocacy professors refer
to this as the “pin” and the “pounce.”
You pin the witness to his story, lock
him in good to what he has said, and
then you pounce on the flaw you
have demonstrated.
When Tipton sticks steadfastly
to his story, Vinny waltzes around
the courtroom asking the witness
if the laws of physics (as applied to
boiling water for grits) will “cease
to exist” on his stove. For good
measure, he asks Tipton if he bought
his grits from the same fellow who
sold Jack the magic beans for the
beanstalk.
During the critical part of
Tipton’s cross, Vinny employs a
tried-and-true courtroom tactic:
As the damaging admission is
coming from Tipton’s lips, Vinny
deliberately walks away from the
witness, so that Tipton is looking
at, and speaking to, Vinny’s back.
Vinny then turns and says, “I’m
sorry, I couldn’t hear that last
answer. Would you please repeat it?”
The point is, Vinny could get
away with bare-knuckled cross-
examination with Tipton, but not
Riley. And Vinny was smart enough
to know that.
4. Proper Use of Experiential
Experts
Ultimately, Vinny wins on the
strength of his expert testimony
regarding the tire marks left by the
culprits as they sped away from the
Sac-O-Suds. His expert, however,
was not a graduate of the Masters
of Automotive Engineering program
at the University of Michigan,
charging $800 per hour. Nor
did the expert have an extensive
record of testifying in high profile
trials. Rather, Vinny calls upon his
initially reluctant fiance Lisa, who
is allowed to testify, not based upon
her educational achievements or her
litigation pedigree, but instead upon
her experience “rebuilding trannies”
and such at her father’s garage.
In 1999, the Supreme Court held
in Kumho Tire Co. v. Carmichael
that the nuanced approach for
determining the admissibility of
scientific expert testimony it had
laid down in 1992 in Daubert v.
Merrell Dow applies to nonscientific,
technical expert testimony as well.
And, these technical experts may
qualify as experts without a Ph.D.
after their name—experience in the
field is sufficient. In Kumho Tire, the
expert’s credentials were his “long
experience working for Michelin.”
Before Kumho Tire, some
had argued that Daubert, with
its nonexclusive list of factors
to be applied by trial judges as
gatekeepers to carefully regulate
what expert testimony the jury
gets to hear, should be confined to
scientific testimony and not to more
mundane technical matters such as
tire pressure and so forth.
Alert moviegoers — those
who watched Mona Lisa deliver her
compelling testimony seven years
earlier — already knew this.
In short, Vinny teaches us that
expert testimony can often be a
game-changer at trial, and that even
an out-of-work hairdresser, given
enough experience in the repair
shop, can opine on such things
as positraction and limited slip
differentials as compared to solid
axles (and the tracks they leave on
the pavement).
5. Ability to Modify Trial Strategy
Vinny’s defense is that his
two clients are victims of one of
the most improbable coincidences
imaginable: Immediately after Bill
and Stan leave the Sac-O-Suds,
the real culprits—who look much
like Bill and Stan—arrive at the
store driving exactly the same car
(presumably a 1964 Buick Skylark
convertible with metallic mint green
paint), driven by Bill Gambini.
On the third day of trial,
however, as Vinny peruses one of
the many crime scene photos that
Lisa has taken, he notices something
peculiar about the tire marks left
on the pavement by the car of the
fleeing murderers. Although the car
rode the curb for a distance, both
tire marks are the identical width.
This indicates that the getaway car
had positraction and independent
rear suspension—features that the
‘64 Skylark did not have.
Upon discovering this
significant piece of circumstantial
evidence, Vinny quickly modifies
his theory of the case: The culprits
were driving a General Motors
automobile, metallic mint green in
color, but not a Buick Skylark. Then,
when Lisa dazzles the audience with
her knowledge of 60s-era General
Motors products, it becomes clear
that a ‘63 Pontiac Tempest, not a
Buick Skylark, left the tire marks in
front of the Sac-O-Suds.
Vinny was able to
do what good trial
lawyers do —
think on his feet.
Summer 2016 • Voir Dire10
Vinny was able to do what good
trial lawyers do—think on his feet.
Although Vinny’s change of plans
was brought about by a more careful
examination of his own evidence,
more often, the issue of changing
trial strategy arises when your
opponent does something you did
not expect. In either event, you must
be able to adapt at trial.
No trial ever follows a prepared
script. In the give-and-take of trial,
the ability to abandon some plans
and to modify others is critical. You
must be able to deal with unexpected
situations, just as a military officer
must adjust to the vicissitudes of war.
As Eisenhower said, “Battle plans
are fine—until the battle starts.”
Thorough preparation and a
reasonably high confidence level
will equip you with the mental
tools to deal with the inevitable
surprises of trial. Recognize the
possibility that something could go
horribly wrong, and preconceive
how you could effectively handle
such contingencies. An exercise
that may help you prepare for the
unpredictable vagaries of trial is to
vet your case with your associates,
family, friends—anyone who will
listen. Tell them that you don’t want
platitudes about your case—you
want them to attempt to tear your
case apart.
Frequently, lawyers fail to heed
subtle (and sometimes not-so-subtle)
hints from the judge, both while
arguing motions before the judge and
when presenting a case to the jury. In
motions practice, judges sometimes
directly or indirectly indicate that
they may be willing to reach the
result that the party seeks, but by a
different route. Good lawyers pick
up on these hints.
Similarly in jury trials, attorneys
sometimes seek to introduce a piece
of evidence under one theory, but
the judge suggests that another
argument might be the basis for a
favorable ruling. It is surprising how
frequently attorneys remain wedded
to their initial approach and ignore
or cavalierly discard the judge’s
attempt to throw them a lifeline. Of
course, in many instances there may
be a quick and definitive answer
as to why the judge’s proposal
will not work, and my sense is
that lawyers sometimes shy away
from responding directly for fear of
alienating or embarrassing the judge.
Quite to the contrary, most
judges appreciate if the lawyer
candidly indicates why the judge’s
proposed course of action is not
feasible and then returns to his or her
original argument. This is preferable
to leaving the judge wondering
why the lawyer has not pursued his
suggestion.
6. Keep Your Ego in Check
As the trial begins, Vinny is the
prototypical wiseguy from Brooklyn.
He scoffs at Lisa’s attempts to
help him. He uses profanity in his
opening statement (“Everything [the
prosecutor] just said is bulls..t!”) He
repeatedly lies to the judge. He does
a victory dance of sorts when he
coaxes favorable information from
an early witness. In other words, he
is a know-it-all. Inexperienced as he
is, he thinks that he alone has the
formula for success at trial. And that
formula includes being overly hostile
to the other side.
But as the trial moves along,
an amazing metamorphosis occurs.
Vinny comes to realize that Lisa’s
assistance is not only helpful, but
essential. She takes the all-important
photograph of the tire marks. She
schools Vinny on criminal discovery
obligations.
While this is happening, the
prosecutor, Jim Trotter III (Lane
Smith), is giving Vinny lessons on
civility. Although he strikes hard
blows in the well of the courtroom,
Trotter eases up after adjournment.
He offers Vinny his hunting lodge
so he can get some sleep away
from the nightly train. He takes
Vinny hunting. He turns over his
investigative file as soon as Vinny
mentions it. He graciously discusses
his career path and the practice of
law in his community generally with
Vinny during idle moments during
the pretrial proceedings.
In short, the trial is a
transformative event for Vinny. By
the time the case is dismissed, Vinny
has come to realize the importance
of relying upon capable assistants.
He has also learned that lawyers can
be adversaries and colleagues at the
same time. After his surprise victory
in the courtroom, Vinny doesn’t
gloat. Instead, he shakes hands with
his opponent and with the judge who
jailed him twice.
Just as Vinny was able to
adjust his legal defense as the case
progressed, he was able to overcome
his bullheadedness about the practice
of law and life in general.
The fact that we at the bar have a
law license hanging on our wall does
not mean that we have a monopoly
on wisdom. We must constantly be
on guard to keep our egos in check.
It has been said many times by many
people that you never stop learning.
Good lawyers should always be open
to new ideas and new ways of doing
things.
In the process, we should
appreciate that assistance provided
by junior partners, paralegals, and
our spouses or significant others.
And win, lose or draw (mistrial),
always practice civility in the
courtroom. Shaking hands with your
opponent following a hard-fought
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trial used to be a standard ritual of
trials in America. We don’t see that
gesture enough anymore.
7. A Life Outside the Law
At the risk of sounding
politically incorrect, I am compelled
to repeat Justice Joseph Story’s
nearly two-century-old admonition
that “[T]he law is a jealous mistress.”
I can say from personal experience
that a career in the law can be all-
consuming if you let it.
Midway through the movie, we
learn that Vinny seems to have the
work/life balance thing worked out.
He has a hobby—magic and card
tricks. He also has a passionate
and enduring, albeit combative,
relationship with Lisa.
Every lawyer should have an
avocation—something of interest
totally unrelated to the law, and
about which he or she is truly
passionate.
Having a life outside the law can
actually make one a better lawyer. It
makes for a well-rounded individual
who can relate to those 12 ordinary
lay citizens in the jury box who will
decide your next case.
I read somewhere that many
people spend the first 90% of their
life working to make a lot of money.
They do so at the expense of their
health. Then, for the last 10% of
their life, they spend all the money
they’ve made trying to get their
health back.
Do not be consumed by your
work. Take time to exercise and
be mindful of your mental and
emotional health. Spend adequate
time with your family and
remember—you won’t get a second
chance to go to those dance recitals
and little league ball games.
8. Have a Mentor
Midway through the movie, we
learn that Vinny has latched onto a
mentor—Judge Malloy, who is back
in Brooklyn. Vinny represented
himself in a traffic case before Judge
Malloy and won. Impressed with
Vinny’s tenacity and relentlessness,
the judge invites Vinny to lunch and
encourages him to go to law school.
And it’s obvious that the two have
remained friends.
The concept of mentoring
is as old as the classical Greek
philosophers. They considered
wisdom to be one of the most
important virtues, and many spent
their lives passing along experiences
and ideas to younger associates
who, in turn, did the same for the
next generation.
Mentoring for lawyers is a
centuries-old part of our profession.
It was not that long ago that lawyers
could bypass the traditional bar
exam, or even law school, by
serving an apprenticeship with an
established law firm. The English
Inns of Court employed this
practice.
In recent years, the professional
bar and our law schools have
recognized the value of more
structured mentoring programs.
These programs have proved quite
valuable in helping fledgling
lawyers navigate the rigors of the
law school process, and in helping
them understand the obligations
of civility and professionalism
that are a central obligation of our
profession.
If that’s not enough, the South
Carolina Bar recently instituted
a mandatory mentoring program
for first-year attorneys. Still in its
infancy, the Bar’s program has been
well-received by novice attorneys,
as well as seasoned lawyers.
9. Pro Bono Activity
Jonathan Lynn has noted that
My Cousin Vinny reverses the
traditional stereotypes: Vinny, Lisa,
and Bill are all blue-collar New
Yorkers. The Southerners in the
movie, on the other hand, are not
ignorant country bumpkins. Instead,
they are generally well-to-do and
appear to come from old money.
Judge Chamberlain is a Yale Law
graduate who plays chess. The
prosecutor, Jim Trotter III, is a well-
dressed gentleman who gave up a
lucrative law practice to become
a prosecutor. In scenes that were
deleted from the final cut, we would
have learned that Bill’s father is
deceased, and his mother, who is
very poor, suffered a heart attack
and cannot, for that reason, attend
the trial.
So there is no scene in the
movie where Vinny and Bill discuss
a fee. It’s clear, therefore, that Vinny
is setting an example for us all when
he takes the case pro bono.
Those of us fortunate enough
to practice law are enormously
privileged. We have the opportunity
to participate in the administration
of justice in the greatest democracy
the world has ever known. We may
not get rich, but we are generally
assured a comfortable standard of
living.
We have all been warmed by
fires we did not build. We have all
drunk from wells we did not dig.
We have stood on foundations we
did not lay. In other words, there
comes a time for all of us in the law
to give back.
The price of privilege is duty.
Throughout our careers at the bar,
we should always be mindful of
the needs and troubles of those on
whom fortune has not smiled.
What better way to do so than
drafting a will, reviewing a contract,
writing a letter, or even handling a
lawsuit for those who cannot afford
legal services.
My friend William Hubbard,
immediate past president of the
American Bar Association, speaks
powerfully of the large and growing
“justice gap” in America, with
studies showing that as many as
80% of the poor, and between two-
fifths and three-fifths of those
Both in life and
in the courtroom,
lawyers should be
promise keepers.
Summer 2016 • Voir Dire12
of moderate means do not have
meaningful access to our civil
justice system. At least one party is
self-represented in three-fourths of
the civil cases in the state courts of
the United States.
10. Keep Your Promises
Vinny has promised Lisa
that they will marry after his
first courtroom victory. As they
are leaving the courthouse, Vinny
suggests that they get hitched the
following weekend. Lisa will have
none of that. After reminding him
that he would not have won without
her assistance, she reaffirms her
plans for a full-blown wedding gala,
complete with bridesmaids and a
sit-down dinner. As the car speeds
off over the rolling red clay hills of
Alabama, with Travis Tritt in the
background singing Buckle of the
Bible Belt, Vinny just smiles, and
the audience has no doubt that he
will keep his promise.
Both in life and in the
courtroom, lawyers should be
promise keepers. As one scholar
noted in 1989, “Credibility with
the judge handling your case is
the most precious resource in your
satchel, and one of the most fragile.”
Change the reference from satchel
to tablet and the advice is still good.
The same is true with opposing
counsel and your client.
That’s 10. I rest my case.
Although Vinny committed several
faux pas and technical errors,
he gives trial lawyers 10 skills
to emulate. And Jonathan Lynn
and Dale Launer have given our
profession a wonderful teaching
tool while producing a gem of a
movie that gives the public at large
renewed faith in the common law
trial and the adversarial system as
the best way to determine the truth
and achieve justice.
Judge Joseph F. Anderson, Jr., is
an Article III federal judge on senior
status for the United States District
Court for the District of South
Carolina. He joined the court in 1986
after being nominated by President
Ronald Reagan. On November 16,
2014, Anderson assumed senior status.
He is a past contributor to
Voir Dire.
TWENTIETH CENTURY FOX FILM CORPORATION
Postscript: Vinny Trivia
1. In the original casting proposals, Danny de Vito was to play Vinny;
Geena Davis to play Mona Lisa; and Will Smith to play Rothenstein.
NOOOOO!
2. Dale Launer and Jonathan Lynn did their homework. Before writing
the script, Launer rented a car in New Orleans and set out on a tour of
several deep-South states to get ideas for the movie. Not surprisingly,
he experienced many colorful episodes, some of which made it into the
movie. Included among those were getting his car stuck in red mud; the
piercing cry of a screech owl, and (of course) grits on every restaurant
menu. He also talked with a prosecutor in Butler, Alabama whose persona
showed up in Jim Trotter III in the movie.
Prior to shooting the movie, Lynn traveled to Monticello and watched an
actual trial to better equip himself to direct the movie. The case was a
murder case with an African-American defendant and a nearly all-white
jury. The jury acquitted, giving Lynn a degree of skepticism about what he
had heard about Southern justice. Also, Lynn was fascinated to observe
what occurred at lunch each day: The lawyers on each side of the case,
along with the presiding judge, sat down at the counsel table in the
courtroom and enjoyed a lunch consisting of sandwiches and beer (yes,
beer). Lynn thus got a quick lesson in civility, observing that in America,
lawyers can be fierce advocates in the courtroom and still remain friends.
Also, at the trial, Lynn heard two remarks by the prosecutor that found
their way into the movie. One was the pronunciation of heinous (“high-_-
nus”), and the other was a reference to “our little ole ancestors.”
3. When Lynn and Joe Pesci were prepping the film at the Mayflower
Hotel in New York, Pesci actually used the phrase “these two youtes” in
the conversation. Lynn recalls that he and Pesci had a back and forth
about “What’s a ‘youte’?” Lynn instantly realized their conversation had
to go in the movie.
4. There was almost a sequel. Depending upon whom you ask, the sequel
was vetoed by Pesci, Tomei, or the studio. Probably just as well—I have
the feeling no sequel could have come close to the original.
5. The prison scenes were shot inside an actual prison in Gainesville,
Georgia, complete with its own death row wing. Real prisoners played
the extras.
6. Lines from the movie continue to pop in popular culture. At a 2015
news conference to defend his players accused in NFL’s “deflate-gate”
scandal, to explain that he knew little about football air pressure, New
England Patriot’s Coach Bill Belichick suggested: “I am not the Mona Lisa
Vito of the football world.”
Footnote:
The author has been a federal trial judge in South Carolina for 30 years
and is the owner of the world’s largest collection of Vinny memorabilia,
including the sign above the Sac-O-Suds gas pumps and Judge
Chamberlin Howell’s gavel.
