An Argument Against `The Pelican Brief': Real Law Students Don't Look That Good

WASHINGTON - Read no more if you haven't seen "The Pelican Brief," for I will probably give away the big secret, namely, Julia Roberts discovers the president of the United States is shipping Jews to Auschwitz. No, sorry: that's "Schindler's List." It's easy to confuse these long blockbuster dramas; one is an impeccably acted masterpiece based on wrenching historical fact, shot in black and white, and the other is, well, it's in color.

"The Pelican Brief" is actually about a law student who manages to crack an international conspiracy by spending five dramatically lit minutes scowling at books in a small law library. She thereafter spends two hours being shot at by indistinguishable men, who have decided that there's nothing like 10 consecutive murder attempts to discredit her allegations.

This movie trods on the heels of another inert, Homeric-length law movie, "The Firm." That film has Tom Cruise discovering that not only does he work for secretive criminals (and don't we all?), but worse: He is surrounded by eager character actors who apparently have forged a pact to make him look like someone who has wandered in from a toothpaste commercial. Both films earned approximately 30 billion dollars the first week.

How odd. Americans widely regard the law as a cold glinting augur heading straight for their hindquarters, and regard lawyers as a form of life so low you're surprised the sidewalk isn't full of them after it rains. But put out a movie about lawyers (based on books by a lawyer) and people show up with wheelbarrows full of money, begging for tickets.

Granted, there are enough lawyers in the country to make any movie about the law break even. That's why I saw it - my wife is a lawyer, and she likes these movies for the same reason a plumber would like a movie about plumbers who save the world.

There's another reason, however: Secretly, we love the law. And we want to love our lawyers.

These movies glamorize the law. Literally. This is particularly evident in "The Pelican Brief," where Julia Roberts looks like she is a cosmetologist auditing a torts class. Here is her average day in law school, according to the movie:

8-11 a.m.: Grooming.

11-12:00: Class. Toss hair around and offhandedly devastate the professors' arguments.

12:00-3:00: Have sex with the professor.

3:00-6:00: Grooming; wine; conversation on The Law.

6:00-6:05: Solve international conspiracy.

7:00-midnight: Dinner, more sex with the professor.

Midnight-8:00: Beauty sleep.

No law student looks that good. By the third year, students are haggard manikins with pin-prick pupils, whipped on by the loud mocking laugh of their idealism. They are ill most of the time; a visit to the average law library in December rings loud with the tubercular whoop of the inmates. They are possessed by dread, ever fearful they will not be admitted to a firm that will make them work 24-hour days until their eyes simply drop from their hollow sockets and roll under the credenza. And because they're not a partner yet they don't have an assistant, so they have to waste billable time finding the eyeballs. What will the boss say when they don't bill 24 hours?

"I understand, junior tired lawyer, but we all temporarily misplace our eyeballs at some point in our careers, and some of us took the time to learn braille instead of wasting our time bathing and attending our parents' funerals."

Law is a boring, grinding hell. People would fall asleep at an accurate portrayal of the lawyer's life. The only accurate thing about these movies is that they go on too long and make you late for dinner.

Nevertheless, people secretly still want to believe the Law is an exalted calling. We all want to believe that any lawyer we might hire would shoot righteous hellfire from his eyes, spit torts and sweat mercy. Not too surprising, really. A few decades ago, religious dramas were big, because we feared God and wanted to believe in Moses. Then came the romantic gangster period, because we feared Authority and wanted to believe that Bonnie and Clyde were just misunderstood. Now we fear the Law and want to believe in those who shield us from it.

Not me. I'm not fooled. I won't expect Tom Cruise or Julia Roberts the next time I reach for a lawyer. I'm not that gullible.

Besides, my wife looks more like Audrey Hepburn.