"Find Me Guilty": Mob trial gives Diesel a place to show his chops

"Find Me Guilty" is a good reminder that Vin Diesel's underrated talent is wasted on mainstream junk like "XXX" and "The Chronicles of Riddick." Playing a career criminal who defends himself in a landmark Mafia trial, Diesel is a seriocomic revelation, working the courtroom like a Vegas entertainer.

As the 43rd film by 81-year-old director Sidney Lumet, however, this fact-based comedy is a mixed blessing: It falls short of vintage Lumet while playing to his strengths as an actor's director who's built a career on themes of moral ambivalence.

In "12 Angry Men," Lumet mastered the challenge of an intimate setting. But the New Jersey courtroom of "Find Me Guilty" is so predominant that it sometimes feels like a quarantine zone, and the verbal fireworks aren't colorful enough to alleviate the sense of confinement.

Movie review

Showtimes and trailer

"Find Me Guilty," with Vin Diesel, Peter Dinklage, Ron Silver, Linus Roache, Alex Rocco, Annabella Sciorra. Directed by Sidney Lumet, from a screenplay by Lumet, T.J. Mancini and Robert McCrea. 124 minutes. Rated R for strong language and brief violence. Several theaters.

It's not for lack of effort. Diesel's a sly charmer as Mafia soldier Giacomo "Jackie Dee" DiNorscio, representing himself in a two-year trial (loosely based on the notorious 1987-88 trial of DiNorscio and the Lucchese mob family) involving 20 mobsters, 20 defense attorneys and 76 different criminal charges.

"I'm no gangster, I'm a gagster," says Jackie, relying on humor to convince a jury — and his criminal family — that he's loyal and legitimate, and not out to cut a deal and rat on his friends. Diesel is an appealing grandstander, and the best moments in "Find Me Guilty" revolve around him, the jaded amusement of the lead defense attorney (Peter Dinklage) and the escalating panic of the prosecutor (Linus Roache), who grows increasingly outraged by DiNorscio's courtroom antics.

Alex Rocco and Annabella Sciorra make strong impressions as DiNorscio's mob boss and estranged wife, respectively, but the dramatic weight of "Find Me Guilty" feels oddly shifted and inconsequential. With this quirky imbalance, Lumet's refined sense of absurdity becomes an essential ingredient to appreciating the final verdict and the circus that precedes it.

Jeff Shannon: j.sh@verizon.net