The main joke in Jury Duty (Amazon Freevee) is that one guy isn’t in on it. The (fake) documentary-style comedy starring James Marsden, exec produced by a group with experience in the constructed and confrontational reality comedy worlds of Sacha Baron Cohen, and directed by Jake Szymanski (Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Funny or Die Presents) thrusts an unsuspecting civilian into a Los Angeles County courtroom where everyone else is a ringer and everything that occurs is part of the gag. Freevee will premiere four episodes of Jury Duty before rolling out the season’s second half on a per-week basis.
Opening Shot: “The following series explores the American judicial process as seen through the eyes of a jury.” But as the titles go on to explain, a crucial element of this docu-style production is that it’s completely fake. Just don’t tell that to Ronald Gladden, 29, a solar panel contractor who believes his jury summons is totally normal and real.
The Gist: As we meet him, Ronald is just a guy doing his civic duty. He remarks to the off-camera producers about the variety of his fellow citizens who are gathered in the courthouse waiting room. He expresses a rudimentary grasp of James Marsden’s career. (“Oh yeah, that’s where I know you from.”). And he’s also willing in the way some of us are to engage in a little chaos-making. Ronald teams with Jeannie (Edy Modica), a self-described “anarchist of sorts” who pilfers Twix from the courthouse gift shop, to encourage the seemingly gullible Noah (Mekki Leeper) to claim he’s a racist in order to avoid jury duty. Why not? Ronald says. It worked for Peter Griffin on Family Guy.
Ronald remains mildly bemused as he’s shuttled through the judicial process, called by number for jury selection, scolded for talking in the courtroom, and generally going along to get along. Places like a courthouse or the DMV are full of weird little things and unlikely encounters. But at the same time, you can feel Jury Duty ratcheting up its absurdity just beyond this superficial level of normalcy. One potential juror tells the lawyers he can’t serve because he has 37 children, but all that really means is that he teaches high school.
Jury Duty was shot at Huntington Park Superior Court in Los Angeles, which is a very real place. Its environments are real, and most of the people in its backgrounds seem to be real, too. And while the viewing audience is read in on the sham from the start, how the series constructs its fake world, how far it reaches, and how that affects Ronald’s experience is a tantalizing hook for this elaborate comedic subterfuge.
What Shows Will It Remind You Of? With its mockumentary format having become widespread, The Office is the standard bearer for Jury Duty. There’s even a guy among the selected jurors who’s giving major Creed Bratton energy. But in positioning an innocent like Ronald in its midst, Jury Duty is also drawing on the disorienting, antagonizing nature of Sacha Baron Cohen’s work, or The Joe Schmo Show, infamous reality TV hoax series from 2003. (It’s also worth noting that Pauly Shore was the lead in a 1995 comedy also called Jury Duty.)
Our Take: Jury Duty definitely has its archetypes down pat. The free spirit. The country mouse. The true crime fetishist. The overbearing judge. The arrogant, insecure Hollywood actor. But it’s also building something even funnier beneath its veneer. Not that most of this is fake – that’s a given, a larger joke the viewer is in on from the very beginning. No, what Jury Duty seems to cheekily be doing is setting up each of its archetypes to ultimately reveal their “true” selves. In other words, they’re all hiding something even funnier than the central bit, which serves two purposes. It focuses Jury Duty on character, instead of some gotcha reveal on Ronald’s obliviousness, and it allows its actors to engage with improvisation in order to strengthen their roles as written. As Noah, Mekki Leeper (The Sex Lives of College Girls) is all blinking “I just got to LA” innocence, but keeps adding little chunks to the life we don’t see. As Judge Rosen, Alan Barinholtz – the father of Ike and Jon is also an attorney in real life – is relying on his authority in the court even as that obscures nature beyond the robes. And when the juror with a hydration bladder reveals his second bladder for pureed solids, that could very well mean he has a third thing, too, an entirely different and probably even funnier bladder.
James Marsden is also well cast here. As a version of his Hollywood actor self, he plays up a pasted grin and a mild insufferableness that usually ends up humorously working against him. In a bid to get closer to Judge Rosen, Marsden loudly offers to buy everyone lunch at the food truck. But when the judge blows him off, he has to grudgingly pull out his credit card. The Jury Duty version of Marsden even arranges for fake paparazzi to appear, but the scheme backfires when his notoriety can’t be confirmed. It’s also fun to watch the various allyships and hierarchies forming amongst those selected for the jury – Marsden and Ronald, Jeannie and Noah, Judge Rosen and his bailiff, Officer Nikki Wilder (Rashida Olayiwola). Because while we know this entire universe is a construct, it will serve to make the absurdities and interpersonal calamities to come that much funnier. Already, Jury Duty is working on a lot of levels.
Sex and Skin: Nothing.
Parting Shot: “There have been so many weird, crazy things that have come up. Who knows what’s gonna happen at this point.” You said it, Ronald. And we’ll be looking to see if you figure out the craziest aspect of all of this.
Sleeper Star: Edy Modica (Made for Love) is an early standout amongst our fake jurors. She’s a funny and ingratiating presence as Jeannie, with a cache of mannerisms that are hilarious in their hyper-realness. When Noah offers her half of his sandwich, she eagerly whips the heart-shaped sucker out of her mouth and sticks it to her neck.
Most Pilot-y Line: “He’s in The Notebook? Nuh-uh. What’s he in The Notebook?” Ronald seems genuinely surprised to learn about some of James Marsden’s IMDB highlights. But it’s his self-effacing use of “nuh-uh” here that speaks to his agreeable demeanor. Can we get a legit side documentary off of this fake documentary that reveals how the Jury Duty producers settled on Ronald as their designated rube?
Our Call: STREAM IT. Jury Duty generates ever more laughs from the everyday absurdities of human interactions as its actors disappear into their constructed identities. But there’s built-in tension, too. Can it keep the bit alive as the series progresses? Will Ronald really never learn that he’s been getting played? The jury’s still out on that one.
Johnny Loftus is an independent writer and editor living at large in Chicagoland. His work has appeared in The Village Voice, All Music Guide, Pitchfork Media, and Nicki Swift. Follow him on Twitter: @glennganges