Stern Judge Shapes Simpson Trial

His desk is all business--no knickknacks, no photos, just generic pens and paper tidily arranged. He drinks from a plain translucent mug. He offers just a perfunctory “good morning” when he takes the bench.

Yes, Superior Court Judge Hiroshi Fujisaki is the very definition of “no-nonsense.” And he has made it clear that he expects equally focused behavior from everyone who steps into his Santa Monica courtroom for the O.J. Simpson civil trial.

As attorneys for relatives of murder victims Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Lyle Goldman take the podium for opening statements this morning, Judge Fujisaki has already stamped the case with his commanding personality.

He’s shaped strategies by ruling that attorneys cannot present theories he considers too flimsy, such as the defense notion that Colombian drug lords may have engineered the June 12, 1994, slayings.

He’s shortened the trial by allowing the plaintiffs to introduce physical evidence such as blood spots without putting every person who handled the items on the stand. And he’s made it clear that he wants testimony to focus on the actual evidence against Simpson, not on broad critiques of the Los Angeles Police Department.

Beyond those evidentiary rulings, however, Fujisaki has guided the trial by establishing a crisp, brisk and sober tone for the proceedings.

Unlike Superior Court Judge Lance A. Ito, who presided over Simpson’s criminal trial, Fujisaki does not try to banter with attorneys, bond with jurors or chat with celebrity court-watchers. “Judge Ito was everyone’s buddy, whereas Judge Fujisaki is more the stern father,” said Loyola Law School Dean Laurie Levenson, who has monitored the criminal and civil trials.

To operate in Fujisaki’s courtroom, lawyers must be blunt. This judge won’t stand for repetition, or for irrelevancies. Nor does he tolerate puffed-up rhetoric or catty bickering.

As one colleague put it: “He’s not one to waste a lot of time with ruffles and flourishes.”

From the start, Fujisaki warned everyone involved with the case that he would not tolerate a repeat of the “circus atmosphere” that “detracted from the integrity of the trial process and the dignity of the courtroom” in Simpson’s criminal trial. With that goal in mind, he imposed a sweeping gag order and banned cameras from the courtroom, explaining: “History will repeat itself unless the court acts to prevent it.”

Even the attorney who fought the gag order in court, American Civil Liberties Union volunteer Paul Hoffman, said he has to admire Fujisaki’s determination to keep Simpson’s civil trial from degenerating into another hyped-up soap opera. “As much as I disagree with [Fujisaki’s decision] . . . it’s hard to disagree with where he’s coming from,” Hoffman said.

Along with banning out-of-court comments, Fujisaki has rigidly monitored the attorneys’ rhetoric inside Department Q, shutting them down when they edge toward grandstanding or stray from the topic. He’s not shy about embarrassing them, even in front of potential jurors.

When one of Simpson’s out-of-town lawyers, Daniel Leonard, floundered through his examination of a jury candidate, Fujisaki interrupted with a sharp reprimand: “Why don’t you just ask the 10-pound question?” When Leonard still failed to phrase a pointed query, an exasperated Fujisaki took over questioning the bewildered juror himself saying, “What the lawyer really wants to know is. . . . “

The judge has also come down hard on New York attorney John Q. Kelly, who represents Nicole Brown Simpson’s estate. When Kelly asked for clarification of the jury selection procedures, for example, Fujisaki snapped: “Mr. Kelly, you’re the only guy I have to repeat everything for. Why is that?”

Fujisaki did not develop this brusque style specifically for the Simpson case; colleagues acknowledge that the 60-year-old jurist has a reputation for impatience. “He does not suffer fools lightly,” said Judge Candace D. Cooper.

On the plus side, lawyers who have felt his wrath in other cases say Fujisaki does not play favorites. As one attorney put it: “He’s an equal opportunity dressing-downer.”

Despite his fearsome reputation, Fujisaki has softened his scowl a bit as the Simpson trial has progressed, even joking at times with the lawyers. “Once they got the message that he was in charge, he loosened up on the reins,” Levenson said.

After a brush-up with the media over his gag order--issued during a closed-door session with lawyers--Fujisaki also seems to have eased his attitude toward journalists. He opened every spare seat in his courtroom to reporters during jury selection, instead of limiting coverage to a three-person pool. And he has allowed spectators to chew gum and even whisper--a sharp contrast with Ito, who insisted on total quiet and set up an eye-in-the-sky monitor to catch violators.

Fujisaki’s friends say the more relaxed approach reflects his personality. As he has gained confidence in his ability to handle a daunting assignment like the Simpson trial, Fujisaki has let his natural sense of humor creep back into his work. “Off the bench,” said Superior Court Judge Paul Boland, “he is a low-key, relaxed individual who does not take himself too seriously.”

He does, however, take his job seriously.

Though he starts nearly every court session late, Fujisaki places a premium on efficiency. He demands that most briefs be less than five pages long, and he refuses to burn up court time on repetitive speeches. When Simpson attorney Robert Blaiser rose to ask the judge if he wanted to hear oral arguments on pretrial motions, for example, Fujisaki snapped: “I’ve read them, I’ve considered them, and I’m ready to rule. But if you feel insecure about something. . . .”

Later, Blaiser dared to challenge a ruling on the validity of blood tests. Fujisaki once again shut him up with a crisp retort. “You already had your turn to comment,” the judge said. “Now it’s my turn to comment, and I’m commenting.”

Fujisaki’s refusal to reconsider his rulings--or even listen to lawyers’ protests--means that “sometimes you may not get as much justice as you think you deserve, because he’s no-nonsense and makes up his mind fairly quickly,” said John K. Pierson, a Brentwood business litigator who has appeared before the judge.

Still, Pierson and others call Fujisaki extremely fair, and praise him for conducting his own research rather than relying on clerks.

Indeed, several times in the civil trial, Fujisaki has pulled out law books on the bench to read passages that prove his point. “His rulings are well reasoned,” said lawyer Robert J. Stoll, who specializes in personal-injury and wrongful-death cases. “You can’t put one over on him.”

Fujisaki still has some important rulings ahead of him in the Simpson case.

He has yet to decide how much leeway the defense will have in referring to former LAPD Det. Mark Fuhrman, who recently pleaded no contest to a felony perjury charge stemming from his testimony in the Simpson criminal trial.

He also must rule on the plaintiffs’ request to tell jurors that an unconfirmed chemical test indicated the possible presence of blood in Simpson’s bathroom and on an air conditioner jutting into the alley where Fuhrman said he found a bloody glove. Finally, Fujisaki must decide whether the plaintiffs can put so-called profile experts on the stand to testify about how the murders may have fit into a pattern of spousal abuse.

But perhaps his biggest challenge will be keeping everyone in line as the trial progresses.

He’s already had to deal with one outburst--when plaintiff Fred Goldman held a news conference on the courthouse lawn to rebut criticism of his fund-raising drive.

The judge’s response to that incident was vintage Fujisaki. “I want you to understand, I’m not just moving my mouth just to move my mouth,” he said, addressing Goldman’s attorney in particular but making sure that every lawyer in the courtroom heard his message.

“I’ve put a considerable amount of effort into this case,” he told them. “I don’t want to see it go down the drain because the parties can’t control themselves.”