The Murder Masterpiece Shot in the Upper Peninsula

On July 31, 1952, a United States Army lieutenant named Coleman Peterson shot and killed tavern owner Maurice Chenoweth at the Lumberjack Tavern in Big Bay, Michigan. The real-life murder would later inspire Anatomy of a Murder, a novel written by Peterson's defense attorney, John D. Voelker, under the pen name Robert Traver. A few years later, it became one of the greatest courtroom dramas ever made.

The other evening, I decided to watch the film Anatomy of a Murder and found myself fully immersed in a classic cinematic experience, with the help of Jimmy Stewart, a murder, a trial, and Northern Michigan.

What surprised me was discovering that this Hollywood classic takes place in, and was filmed largely on location in, Marquette and the surrounding Upper Peninsula.

It’s movie history filmed in my own great state, and it does the setting justice.

Northern Michigan is perfectly on display through the film's black-and-white photography. My favorite shot of the movie shows Paul Biegler, played by Jimmy Stewart, alongside his sidekick, Parnell McCarthy (played by Arthur O'Connell), sharing a casual, on-the-clock lunch.

The two peel and eat a hard-boiled egg each and wash it down with a cold beer, all with a stunning backdrop of natural Michigan lighting, including an iron ore loading crane moving behind them, accompanied by a flock of seagulls.

It just bleeds Marquette. I'd like to see remote workers today survive on a lunch like that.

The movie is full of shots that ache with the feeling of Northern Michigan. In some shots, you can feel the cool breeze of Lake Superior, while in others, you can feel the warm hospitality, as well as a judge who is new to the area and realizes how much he admires the northern part of the state.

This movie was shot largely on location, even in the Marquette County Courthouse, where the movie transcends into a wildly entertaining courtroom showdown.

I love a movie with a distinct sense of place and atmosphere, one that transports you somewhere you've never been or somewhere you wish you could be. Think of Jaws, with its New England coastline and island communities.

The setting becomes almost as important as the story unfolding within it. Anatomy of a Murder does something similar with Michigan's Upper Peninsula. Its landscapes, streets, taverns, and local characters give the film a texture that a studio set could never quite reproduce.

At the center of it all is Jimmy Stewart, playing Paul Biegler, a small-town lawyer who seems to be coasting through life. He fishes, drinks, plays piano, and carries himself with the easygoing charm of a man who doesn't appear to take much too seriously.

But get him into a courtroom, and a different side emerges. Beneath that relaxed exterior is a sharp legal mind, capable of going toe-to-toe with a lethal lawyer from the State Attorney General’s office.

I've always loved the heroic lawyer story: the underdog who might be a little rough around the edges but is secretly the smartest guy in the room. There's a hint of Better Call Saul’s character Saul Goodman in his clever maneuvering. But Biegler is a wonderfully scruffy, distinctly Michigan creation.

The rest of the cast is fantastic. You’ll find yourself playing that game of, “Where do I know that guy from?” as the witnesses and attorneys take the stand.

And then there's the music. Duke Ellington, alongside Billy Strayhorn, composed the score, and Ellington himself appears in the film as a musician. The music is cool and stylish. If you're walking around your house aimlessly, puzzled over something, or just bored, put this soundtrack on and act like you’re Jimmy Stewart for a bit.

This was an independent film directed by Otto Preminger. I loved daydreaming about the fact that a 1950s film crew, Jimmy Stewart, and a cast of Hollywood heavyweights traveled all the way to Michigan's Upper Peninsula to make a movie that would become a classic.

In an era when Hollywood was synonymous with enormous sets and studio backlots, Preminger's decision to bring the production to the actual locations gives the film much of its character.

The Marquette County Courthouse, the streets of the region, and the surrounding landscape aren't just backdrops. They are part of the experience. Jimmy Stewart likely stayed in a local Marquette cabin for a few weeks enjoying Northern Michigan.

If the Northern Michigan atmosphere isn't enough, the story is enjoyable and raises moral questions. Voelker was a practicing attorney who defended Peterson in the actual murder case. The novel grew out of that experience, transforming a real Michigan trial into a story that would eventually reach audiences around the world.

It's a story about truth when everyone has their own version of events and moral compass. You want Jimmy Stewart's character to win, the charismatic lawyer who has a lot more under his belt than he gives off. However, the man he is defending is clearly deceptive and hiding dark truths.

But as a lawyer, that doesn't matter. Your job is to give your client the best defense possible in accordance with the law, and that's what Jimmy Stewart's character does here while courtroom-boxing with a sharp, lethal lawyer from Lansing.

The film makes you a member of the jury. You're constantly weighing testimony, questioning motives, and reconsidering whose side you're on.

One of the central arguments in the real case involved a version of the insanity defense known as “irresistible impulse.” The defense argued that Peterson's mental state prevented him from controlling his actions after his wife accused Chenoweth of raping her.

The movie doesn't offer any easy answers to these moral questions. By the end, you feel that no one comes out victorious, and the world can be a cold, unfair place.

And for all the weighty subject matter, there are witty one-liners, jokes, and wisecracks that make for a great time at the movies.

Afterward, I found myself longing to be a trout-fishing lawyer in Marquette in the 1950s, spending the morning on the water, arguing a case in the afternoon, then heading to a local bar with Duke Ellington playing in the background.

That's the magic of this movie and the magic of Michigan. It proves that when Hollywood decides to take a risk and make a movie focused not only on the story but also on the atmosphere, something special can happen.

It's time to make more Michigan movies. How many times do we see a movie with New York or L.A. as the backdrop? I'll take a gritty Northern Michigan courtroom drama any day of the week.

So, if you're looking for something to watch on a chilly fall evening, put on Anatomy of a Murder and enjoy a twisted tale set in beautiful—and haunting—Northern Michigan.