Sidney Lumet has an encyclopedia of classics under his belt: 12 Angry Men, The Pawnbroker, Fail Safe, Serpico, Dog Day Afternoon, Network, and The Verdict stand out in a parade of excellent American movies by the prolific genius. But if I had to name a favorite Lumet film, it would be… Network. Then maybe 12 Angry Men. But close behind would be a little-seen masterpiece called Night Falls on Manhattan.

The story and screenplay (by Lumet from Robert Daley’s book Tainted Evidence) are tight, situating the story deep inside an authentically corrupt New York City Lumet knows so well. After a deadly shootout, a remorseless drug lord surrenders to celebrity lawyer Sam Vigoda (think William Kunstler by way of Alan Dershowitz). It turns out Vigoda wants to put the drug dealer on the stand to expose a web of payoffs and graft within the NYPD. Meanwhile, young ADA Sean Casey rises to become the District Attorney, putting him in a position to discover if his own father may have been a part of the conspiracy. His father, by the way, is one of the detectives who raided the drug kingpin.

The story is fascinating, but I admit Night Falls on Manhattan succeeds less as a whole and more as a collection of skilled cinematic puzzle pieces. The actors are all at their best. Star Andy Garcia is overshadowed by the hard-hitting supporting cast of Richard Dreyfuss as Vigoda, Ian Holm as Detective Liam Casey, James Gandolfini as his partner Joey, and Ron Liebman as District Attorney Morgenstern (any similarities to the legendary Robert Morgenthau are purely coincidental, I’m sure). Garcia is earnest in his youthful optimism, while the older characters seethe with cynicism and consequentialist thinking nurtured by years navigating Manhattan’s corrupt underbelly. Dreyfuss plays Vigoda as level-headed and calculating, while Liebman steals the show as the ranting District Attorney.

This scene is not family-friendly. You have been warned.

You’ll notice DA Morgenstern is not speaking in an auditorium. He’s improvised a dais by standing on a table in a hallway. It’s touches like this that make Lumet’s movies a cut above, lending a manic urgency to the scene. This is not grittiness as an aesthetic choice. He knows the guts of New York City—it’s old; the buildings are old. The courtroom is not a soaring wood-paneled cathedral. It has ugly green carpet and cheap plywood furniture installed in the 1970s. It feels real, like it has a century of use and duplicity built into it.

Cinematographer David Watkin captures all of this perfectly. He is one of my favorite DPs. His work on Chariots of Fire is remembered for its few slo-mo shots, but watch that film again and notice how understated his photography actually is. He won an Oscar for the sumptuously shot Out of Africa, but his best work, I think, is in White Nights and Night Falls on Manhattan. When drug dealer Washington is revealed to the assembled press, he walks out of a darkened room, stutteringly illuminated by photographers’ flashbulbs. It’s a stunning choice, but the filmmakers don’t overdramatize it. The same can’t be said for the myriad movies that copied Watkin’s fantastic setup, the hero shot in Armageddon being the most overwrought.

I haven’t mentioned the luminous Lena Olin, who plays an attorney in Vigoda’s law office and begins a relationship with Sean Casey. She is wasted as “the girlfriend,” and there is a missed opportunity when she turns out to have a consequential part to play in this drama. Also notable is Shiek Mahmud-Bey, very good as drug lord Washington. He is written only as a force of evil—we never learn much about him or Olin’s Lindstrom. Two accomplished actors play characters that act only as foils to the others. I would have liked to see more roundness to them.

One aside—you may wonder how the English Holm and the Cuban-American Garcia could play an Irish-American father and son. A quick shot of the gravestone of Maria Nuñez Casey, beloved wife and mother dispenses with that.

Two more asides. In a movie filled with quotable dialog, I especially love the scene where Liebman’s Morgenstern spars with WASPy deputy Elihu Harrison, played by the Buckleyesque Colm Feore. The City College-educated Morgenstern airs his grievances with Harrison’s privileged Ivy League upbringing, filling in everything you need to know about the acerbic DA. This short scene is powerfully acted and written. It has purpose in setting up Casey’s rise, but it also gives Morgenstern the depth Lindstrom and Washington were denied.

Also, a minor character played by the underused Paul Guilfoyle says at the start of the film:

My name is McGovern. Mister McGovern to you. I am the Assistant to the Assistant Deputy Administrative Assistant to the District Attorney of New York County. You are in training as Assistant District Attorneys of New York County. And my Assistant title is a hell of a lot higher than your Assistant title.

I love movies that start with dialog delivered by passing characters in close-up. They act like a Shakespearean chorus, setting the stage thematically. The “I believe in America” speech at the start of The Godfather is like this, establishing the social dynamic in the Corleone world. In Lumet’s movie, McGovern gives you a glimpse into a byzantine bureaucracy where justice is a secondary consideration. It’s fitting that the movie ends with DA Casey taking over and imparting his wisdom to the young ADAs. It also informs a poignant scene where Casey visits the ailing Morgenstern. The once-great lion is now a shell of himself, no longer able to scream and bully his subordinates. All that’s left of him is insight and wisdom, so that is what he offers to the still idealistic Casey.

Unlike the relentlessly cynical Network or Serpico, Night Falls on Manhattan is idealistic. That speech that Casey finishes the movie with is brilliant, and it allows Garcia to show his acting chops are the equal of Holm’s, Liebman’s, and Dreyfuss’s.

But you’re going to spend most of your time in the grey areas. Out there, that’s where you’re to come face to face with who you really are. That’s a frightening thing to ask of you. It might take a lifetime to figure out. For me, I know I have two things. I know I still have complete faith in the law. And I also know I’m fallible. And I just hope God is not finished with me yet.