In theory, Jury Duty is my worst TV nightmare. But to my surprise, this prank show-meets-mockumentary proves a surprisingly warmhearted delight.
I don’t tend to do well with hidden camera shows, especially those that tend towards cringe comedy. When not everyone is in on the joke, I get anxious. Like, “retract fully into my hoodie, never to emerge” levels of anxious. So the premise of Jury Duty — stage a fake court case where everyone is an actor except for one member of the jury — gave me major pause. However, after social media bombarded me with excited Tweets, clips, and fan edits of the show, I decided to give it a go.
Not only did I never recede into my hoodie, I found myself majorly invested in this jury of misfits that somehow becomes a found family — and I can guarantee you will, too.
Jury Duty is an audacious reality TV gambit.
Credit: Courtesy of Amazon Freevee
Jury Duty is not the first show to devise wild scenarios to see how one unsuspecting person reacts, but its scale and commitment are undeniably impressive. The show fabricates an entire case, including the jury selection process, in order to trick one man into believing that this is his reality. That man is Ronald Gladden, aka Juror #6, and he is about to undergo the wildest 17 days of his life.
You heard me: 17 days. That’s how long the trial lasts, so that’s how long Jury Duty needs to sustain its elaborate deception. The jurors, including Ronald, get sequestered throughout the process, with no access to their phones or the internet. All that’s left for them to do is bond. And bond they do, through a series of court recesses, hotel room discussions, and even a field trip to Margaritaville.
While Jury Duty gives us tons of laughs, it also wrings suspense and awe just from the major task it has set itself. After each ridiculous occurrence, from the defense’s council knocking over a court TV to a messy intra-jury hookup, you’ll find yourself wondering, “Is this when Ronald will find out?” He comes close, comparing the string of wild events to reality TV, but Jury Duty manages to keep its cards close enough to its chest for a killer reveal.
Jury Duty gifts us a great comedy ensemble.
Credit: Courtesy of Amazon Freevee
None of Jury Duty‘s subterfuge would be possible without the dedication of its entire cast, each of whom commits to the bit like their life depends on it. This ensemble includes more extreme characters like Todd (David Brown), a man with a deep love for cybernetics and human enhancement, but it also features more naturalistic, deadpan performances from jurors like Vanessa (Cassandra Blair), a member of the Reddit Bureau of Investigators. Jury Duty also cooks up plots straight out of a sitcom, like the budding relationship between awkward juror Noah (Mekki Leeper) and self-described “fun girl” Jeannie (Edy Modica).
Lending the jury a bit of star power is actor James Marsden, playing a heightened version of himself. This version of Marsden is a stereotypical celebrity jerk: He calls fake paparazzi to try to get out of jury duty, brags about a “confidential” script he’s reading, and even tries a bit of method acting. Up for seemingly everything the show throws at him, Marsden’s antics bring the (court)house down every episode.
At the center of Jury Duty‘s perfect storm of weirdos is Ronald, whose obliviousness to being in his own version of The Truman Show makes him the de facto straight man. To his credit, Ronald proves exceptionally friendly to his peers, no matter how bizarre their behavior gets. Instead of being anguished over the sequestration, he’s excited to get to know his fellow jurors and get to the bottom of this court case. You’re already rooting for Ronald as the one non-actor of the show, but as Jury Duty tests his character time and time again, that feeling only intensifies.
The way Jury Duty treats Ronald sets it apart.
Credit: Courtesy of Amazon Freevee
My biggest worry coming into Jury Duty was that the show would derive its comedy from punching down on Ronald. Instead, the show’s fun comes more from his reactions to the kooky characters around him, including the kindness he shows them in the most unexpected situations.
Instead of making Ronald the show’s punching bag, Jury Duty does everything in its power to make him a hero. His fellow jurors encourage him to step up in tricky scenarios and make sure to enlist him in their wildest hijinks, and for the most part, he does. Jury Duty essentially engineers main character moments for Ronald, letting him unknowingly live out the arc of a sitcom character through the magic of television. It’s a weirdly wholesome take on the hoax show format, poop jokes and all.
That wholesomeness ends up being one of Jury Duty‘s greatest strengths, because while the case may be totally fake, much of the bonding we see is real. The end result feels like the love child of Candid Camera and Parks and Recreation. Yes, we get plenty of laughs, but we also get an unexpected amount of hope about how people will rise to the occasion in even the strangest of scenarios. Who knows, maybe Ronald will inspire all of us to be better people.
