Spoilers from the start...
Atticus Finch defined my ideas of respect for others and gave me a profound reverence for the law and learning. The iconic character made me, and classmates like me, proud our dads were lawyers. Most of my friends who went to law school did so with Finch's spirit beneath their wings. Scout, as the wise-cracking tomboy who was smarter than her years and naively idealistic, was a character with whom almost everyone at our all-girls' school could associate. The nuns, I suspect, found the book a far easier tool than the Bible for hammering the traits of kindness, understanding, patience and empathy into our characters.
I'd like to think that the messages hit home. And yet, last night, I realised with horror that I'd forgotten that Atticus lost the case. That Tom Robinson died in a miscarriage of justice. Atticus, the children, the bad guy's end and the redemption of Boo Radley lived in my mind. I remembered ... mis-remembered ... that Tom Robinson walked free, and Bob Ewell was driven mad by the defeat. I forgot that Atticus' ideals actually failed to save the victim at the heart of the story. And I'm ashamed to admit it.
I suspect no black reader of the story forgets that part.
Nor will anyone who sees this adaptation. Tom, and the injustice done to him, takes centre stage. The racism is far more overt than the text of the book, expressed in language that is stomach-churning to hear spoken aloud. Clearly influenced by both modern America and Harper Lee's "sequel" (now thought to be a rejected first version), Go Set a Watchman, Atticus is more flawed and the moral lessons greyer. The classic version gave hope for a better future. This one ejects you from the theatre in sadness and frustration.
Maybe that's exactly what we need. This text has been in the core American curriculum for generations, and is taught in other countries around the world, but it hasn't changed us enough. So Sorkin is, as Scout might put it, smackin' us upside the head.
It is familiar territory for the writer behind The West Wing and A Few Good Men, who loves a courtroom drama and often features lawyers as the good guys. His usual combination of rapid banter and quick wit is here, as are the noble speeches appealing to our better selves that drop in like the big love songs in a musical. It's a shame about the accents, which in some cases are deployed with such an extreme drawl by the mostly British cast that they become hard to decipher. Gwyneth Keyworth gave us a magnificently acted Scout ... no small challenge for an adult to play an 8-year-old convincingly ... but her adopted accent obscured 20% of her words. That's a criminal loss with Sorkin, where every word matters. Far better to hear Jim Norton's native Irish accent regularly peeping through Judge Taylor's facade, but with complete clarity.
Rafe Spall is magnificent, and entirely audible, as an Atticus Finch for the new age. Still a role model but with flaws, foibles and fears aplenty. But best of all were Jude Owosu's dignified, noble Tom Robinson and Pamela Nomvete's firey, assertive housekeeper Calpurnia. Sorkin has significantly expanded the roles of the black characters, and it's to the story's overall benefit.
If To Kill a Mockingbird is a sacred text of your childhood, you may be uncomfortable with the way this version shakes up how you see the story. But learning isn't supposed to be comfortable, and this story remains a requirement for the course curriculum of life.
To Kill a Mockingbird is at the Geilgud Theatre in London until 19 November.
No comments:
Post a Comment