Can a small-scale human drama now be classified as an eccentric, unclassifiable studio release? Even if it’s directed by Hollywood icon and Oscar-winning filmmaker Clint Eastwood? When you watch the nonagenarian’s latest film “Juror #2,” starring a no-nonsense cast including Nicholas Hoult, JK Simmons and Toni Collette (but unceremoniously dumped into a handful of theaters this weekend), you’ll be struck because of what not in it: star-stepping, superheroes (or even regular heroes), physics-defying brawls, brand messaging and CGI.

The film is indeed an anomaly in our IP-driven universe. What has a lot to offer, however, is a gently probing story about the moral gravity of responsibility and guilt, developed from Jonathan Abrams’ patient screenplay and Eastwood’s reliable, no-nonsense, character-driven stewardship. And no, not in a post-apocalyptic world caused by catastrophic events, but in the recognizable wilderness of everyday life, and in that mundane arena of judgment familiar to citizens everywhere: a courthouse in the city.

Ah, so a juicy whodunit! Okay, calm down. While murder is the charge tried in this handsome, mid-sized Georgia town by an enthusiastic prosecutor (Collette, quite good) who also happens to be on the hunt to win an election, the case against James (Gabriel Basso) – a tattooed muscleman accused of murdering his girlfriend on a rainy evening on a country road – isn’t so obvious, according to his skilled lawyer (Chris Messina).

The film is not a conspiracy thriller. But dishonesty lurks, and the puddle it creates is slippery. The defendant’s situation becomes clearer to one person: the title juror, Justin (Hoult), a mild-mannered young man whose jury stint initially seems like an unpleasant obligation to dodge while he and his wife (Zoey Deutch) wait nervously. their first child. However, things quickly become complicated when the facts of the case personally remind Justin of a driving incident in his recent past, an incident with a potentially devastating impact on his own life. (I’m being vague to preserve the film’s modest revelations.)

So while ‘Juror #2’ isn’t a white-knuckle film, it is a slowly tweaked conscience trap, as well as a sharp prism through which we can stress-test our own ethics. The position Justin finds himself in – where he is sent to his AA sponsor (Kiefer Sutherland) for advice, but not to his wife – is treated as an ongoing dilemma of the soul.

There are ripple effects across all players in the story, touching on many aspects of our legal system, from substandard investigations that favor confirmation to lawsuits driven by political opportunism and our need for good stories over the truth. On TV, juries are usually made up of stock archetypes, but here we get a room of believably well-intentioned, diverse citizens who may want justice, but also have lives that shape their outlook, that they want to return to. (Don’t expect the theatrical histrionics of “12 Angry Men,” either.)

Bolstered by performances that refuse to tell us what to think (especially Hoult’s cagey calm), “Juror #2” skillfully portrays how, in practice, the ideal of blind justice too easily looks the short-sighted, the other way. And while race and class aren’t explicitly addressed, it’s impossible not to view our protagonist’s actions from a ready-made privilege that Eastwood doesn’t stop us from thinking about.

If “Juror #2” is the final work from this all-time great filmmaker, it may come across as a quiet farewell, measured conversations replacing the familiar violence and death of his oeuvre. But its relaxed professionalism still makes it a worthy closing argument for what Eastwood has always cared about most: how we live, but also how we die, and what ultimately condemns us all.