Theatre 2023: To Kill a Mockingbird

It has been many years since I read the novel “To Kill a Mockingbird”, Harper Lee’s classic coming of age story about six-year-old Scout and her ten-year-old brother Jem, growing up in small town Alabama during the Depression.  They lead a carefree existence full of childlike escapades until their widowed attorney father Atticus Finch is called upon to defend Tom Robinson, a gentle black man falsely accused of raping a 19-year-old white girl. This results in a loss of innocence for the children, as they gain first-hand experience of the deep-rooted racism that exists in the South. Told in flashbacks, an adult Scout (aka Jean Louise Finch) recalls the events of her childhood, sometimes gleaning clarity regarding situations or discussions that she could not fully comprehend at the time.

To Kill a Mockingbird won the Pulitzer Prize for Literature in 1961 and the character of Atticus Finch is considered one of the most beloved heroes in literary history, his name synonymous with honour, fairness and courage.  Some aspects of this book are based on Lee’s own life.  Her attorney father represented black defendants in a high profiled trial, while Scout and Jem’s childhood friend Dill is based on Harper’s best friend and neighbour Truman Capote.  The children’s fascination with the neighbourhood recluse Boo Radley is also based on a family who lived in a boarded-up house down the street from Lee’s home.

It has also been a long time since I first watched the equally famous 1962 movie “To Kill a Mockingbird” starring Gregory Peck as attorney Atticus Finch and newcomer Mary Badham as young Scout.  While cutting out many peripheral characters and storylines, the movie followed the plot of the book quite faithfully.  The movie was nominated for 8 Academy Awards, winning three including Best Actor for Peck.  Although it lost Best Picture to Lawrence of Arabia, it is still listed in the top 100 movies of all time.

Recently we watched a touring version of the 2018 Broadway play adaptation of “To Kill A Mockingbird”, written by  acclaimed screenwriter Aaron Sorkin.  By comparison, this rendition definitely does not follow the trajectory of the book. Sorkin is known for creating scripts for the TV series “The West Wing” and movies such as “A Few Good Men” (with now well-known lines such as “You can’t handle the truth!”).  Coming from the Hollywood world, he is used to injecting heightened drama and big dramatic speeches into his works.   It is therefore no surprise to hear that he took so many liberties with the beloved novel that the estate of Harper Lee sued lead producer Scott Rudin for contract violation for “not remaining faithful to the spirit of the book”.   According to reports, the estate objected to about 80% of the script. Before the lawsuit could go to court, it was settled between the two parties with Sorkin addressing half of those issues.  It was extremely interesting to see what was taken out of the original script and which deviations remained.

One of the biggest points of contention was Sorkin’s portrayal of Atticus Finch.  In Sorkin’s mind, Atticus would be a more interesting and realistic character if he had the traditional (Hollywood trope?) character arc where he starts off as a flawed character and grows throughout the play until he ends up as the saintly hero of the book.  Sorkin wanted Atticus to begin as a “naïve apologist” trying to explain away or justify the racism of the town, as well as a man who cursed, drank alcohol and kept a gun in his closet.  This was such a departure from the spirit of the iconic literary character that I think the estate would have had a case in its lawsuit.  At any rate, Sorkin backed off on this change for the most part, in order to trade for the changes he wanted the most.

As we settled in to watch the play, the first major difference was noticed immediately.  In the book, the first 8 chapters are devoted to describing Scout and Jem’s lives in their small town. In addition to Atticus, we are introduced to their extended relatives, their black maid Calpurnia, neighbours, classmates and their friend Dill who joined them in their adventures.  The case against Tom Robinson is not brought up until the 9th chapter, and while the events are seminal and significantly impactful, they serve as just one part of Scout’s recollections from her childhood, albeit a major part.

By contrast Sorkin’s script made the rape trial the main event and Atticus, played by Jeff Daniels on Broadway and Richard Thomas (aka “John-Boy Walton”) in the touring production, the central character.  I read that Sorkin wanted his play to be staged in an actual Federal courthouse as opposed to a traditional theatre.  This did not happen.  The play kicks off with a scene in the courtroom with not just Scout but also Jem and Dill acting as omniscient narrators, roaming in front of the action to provide additional exposition.  Atticus is attributed lines that he did not have in the book, including the story about why it is a sin to “kill a mockingbird” (since they are totally innocent and only give pleasure with their song). Sorkin co-opted these lines from Scout’s recollections and included them in Atticus’ extended and powerful closing statements for the trial.  These changes seem reasonable given that the biggest star in the cast is the actor playing Atticus, so he should have the best lines.

Scenes reflecting the children’s escapades are scattered throughout the play, including their relentless hunt to catch a glimpse of Boo Radley, and Jem destroying the flowers belonging to mean old Mrs. Dubose after she disparages Atticus.  In a nice touch, Mrs. Dubose is played by Mary Badham, the former child actress who played Scout in the movie.  Yet the driving narrative relates to the trial and the other episodes seem peripheral.

The changes that Sorkin was most adamant about keeping were in the depictions of the black characters, namely the accused Tom Robinson and the maid Calpurnia.  Both characters are given more agency to speak their minds about the racism that they faced, either overtly or implicitly.  Calpurnia is visibly miffed when Atticus tries to preach that there is goodness in all men, even the blatantly hateful and racist ones around town.  When he espouses the need to always show respect for people, she observes that “by respecting them, you disrespect me”.  In Sorkin’s version, Tom understands clearly that his chances at a winning a jury trial are slim to none and wants to accept the original court appointed lawyer’s deal of 18 years in jail if he pleads guilty.  He does not want his children scarred with the thought of him being electrocuted if found guilty in a trial.  Atticus convinces Tom that he can win since the facts are on his side.

In all versions of To Kill a Mockingbird, Tom is found guilty by 12 white men, despite overwhelming evidence proving his innocence.  In the book, Atticus knows that he is taking on an unwinnable case yet does so anyway.  At least he will be giving Tom a chance to tell his side of the story and as a man of high principle, Atticus has to at least try.  After the trial, one of the neighbours explains to Jem that “Atticus won’t win, he can’t win, but he’s the only man in these parts who can keep a jury out so long in a case like this” and that this is a small step in the right direction.   In the play, by adding the (possibly historically inaccurate) option of allowing Tom to plead guilty to avoid a trial and having Atticus talk him out of it, Sorkin is still subtly giving the attorney a “fatal flaw” that leads directly to his client’s death.   Perhaps the goal was to make the death all the more tragic given that there was another option.  In my mind, this alters one of the major themes of the book and dilutes Atticus’ character, portraying him as either naïve or overconfident.  I’m surprised that Harper’s estate allowed this change to remain.

Another major difference between the play versus the book and even the movie is that the “children” are played by youthful-looking adults who can better handle the intricacies of the heavy subject matter and provide insightful flashback commentary.  In fact, Scout’s voice changes from an adult’s voice when describing her memories, to a child’s voice when acting out scenes from the past.

In one of the most dramatic scenes of the book, Atticus learns that Tom Robinson has been transferred to the local jail and realizes that a mob will show up to try to kill him.  Armed with just a reading lamp and a book, Atticus sits in front of the jail and faces the mob.  Things grow tense until the children race up and Scout diffuses the situation when she recognizes “Mr. Cunningham”, one of Atticus’ clients.  In the book and movie, the mob consists of angry farmers with rifles.  In the play, the men show up in hoods implying that they were part of the Ku Klux Klan.  Perhaps this was yet another attempt by Sorkin to ramp up the drama, but it just made it unbelievable that young Scout could recognize a man she met only once when he is disguised by a hood.  It is interesting that Sorkin chose not to depict the scene in the book where Atticus is forced to take up a rifle to shoot an approaching mad dog, thus revealing to his children that he was actually an expert marksman nicknamed “One-Shot Finch” in his youth.  This occurrence made Atticus' decision not bringing a gun to the jail to protect Tom even more impactful.  As he later remarked, that would have been the surest way to escalate the situation and get shot.

Despite my objections to some of Sorkin’s attempts to reframe a classic story in a modern lens to reflect current social mores and sensibilities and to Hollywoodize some scenes (I’m surprised he did not add a car chase!), overall I did enjoy his version of To Kill a Mockingbird.  His version was fast-paced with good use of set design to move the action from the courthouse to the Finches’ porch to the outdoors.  I particularly liked the initial setup where Scout debated with Jem about how it was technically and physically impossible that “Bob Ewell fell on his knife”, just to finally understand the importance of this statement by the end of the play.  I thought the actors who played Scout, Jem and Dill did a fabulous job of making you believe that they were children.  Richard Thomas did a credible job of portraying Atticus with the gravitas required for the role, even though I felt that his thundering summation speech was a bit over the top.. but that was more about the script than the actor.

Theatre 2023: Bad Roads

Crow’s Theatre continues its trend of putting on intense dramas with its mounting of the play Bad Roads, written by Ukrainian playwright Natal’ya Vorozhbit based on verbal testimonials from victims of the initial 2014 Russo-Ukrainian war. This show is so devastating and triggering that multiple emails were sent out to ticket holders with warnings of disturbing content including “depictions of physical, emotional and sexual violence”. There were even instructions regarding how and when to exit the theatre during the 2 hour show (with no intermission) should the need arise. Given that Russia’s most recent war on Ukraine is still raging after over 600 days of fighting, this play is all the more relevant, poignant and disturbing.

The one common aspect of all the shows that I have watched at Crow’s Theatre so far is the innovative staging and Bad Roads was no exception.  Held in the smaller Studio Theatre with five rows of stadium seating on each side of the room, the “stage” at the centre was covered with black, ash-like particles that simulated the rubble or debris found in bombed-out war-torn areas.  The sparse set consisted of a shabby wooden crate attached to a few steps on one side and a wooden bench on the other, with a bright spotlight shining in the middle.  Yet the audience is totally transported into this horrific landscape,  just with a few extra props, wardrobe, sound and lighting. The play consists of six vignettes, five of them depicting an aspect of the war, mostly told from the female perspective.

The first is a lengthy monologue by a female reporter who travels with her military escort to inspect the battle zone around the Donetsk airport a year after its siege.  Speaking for a few seconds in total darkness before being illuminated by the central spotlight, she describes herself, her travel companion who she is attracted to and eventually becomes her lover, their harrowing journey, and the state of the war in general.  Pacing back and forth across the performance area, she reveals intimate details such as cleaning herself with wet naps since there is no available water source.  Achingly she conveys the difficulties of trying to find love and intimacy in midst of a war.

The lights darken during each scene interchange.  These are your chances to leave although no one did.  There was no clapping between scenes.  It is not that type of play.  The audience sat in (sometimes shocked) silence while trying to absorb what they just saw and heard.

The second vignette starts with three young teenaged girls huddled on a bench on a chilly night, discussing their Ukrainian “lovers” who give them gifts. Disturbingly, the girls think they are in relationships and don’t realize that they are being abused and used like prostitutes by the soldiers.  One of the girls is an orphan whose grandmother shows up and tries unsuccessfully tries to convince her to go home.  It is sad to see how war has impacted the lives of children.

The third story involves an inebriated schoolteacher who is stopped at a Ukraine checkpoint and realizes that he accidentally brought his wife’s passport instead of his own.  To make matters worse, he is in possession of a fake rifle which further raises the suspicions of the border guards, a Commander and another soldier.  In a tense interaction while he is pushed around and threatened with a gun, the schoolteacher tries to reason with the guards, citing patriotism and reminding that they are on the same side.  But just as the soldiers are letting him go, he spots one of his female students coming out of the Commander’s tent (off stage).  It is the orphaned girl from the previous scene.  The teacher tries to admonish the Commander for using a child for sex and to appeal to his sympathies towards the unfortunate situation of this girl.  But when the Commander grows defensive and threatens the teacher’s freedom, the ultimate instinct of self-preservation kicks in.  The teacher backs down and drives away, pretending to accept the claim that he was mistaken in what he saw.

The fourth scene depicts a female medic riding in a jeep driven by a soldier as they traverse a dark deserted road.  In an unexpected role reversal, the female is aggressive and domineering while the male is meek and subservient.  By simply placing a grill with two headlights in front of the wooden crate which they sit on while jostling up and down, the illusion of the bumpy jeep ride is conveyed.  As their conversation progresses, we learn that they are transporting the headless body of a senior officer in the trunk who turns out to be the soldier’s commander and the angry grieving medic’s lover.  The woman is being taunted by cruel text messages sent from the dead man’s phone by the enemy who killed him.  When the jeep breaks down and they are stranded without cell service, the woman’s anguish finally overflows and she explodes in a rage, thrashing around in the black debris.  Towards the end of the vignette, having survived the freezing elements overnight by using the dead soldier’s body bag for cover, the medic sadly tells her companion that she won’t even get to attend her lover’s funeral—that honour will go to his wife.

The fifth situation is the most viscerally horrifying in its graphic depiction of both emotional and physical torture including violent rape. But it is also one of the most artfully choreographed portrayals of such acts that I have ever seen.  A female reporter has been captured by an enemy soldier who has been so traumatized by all the debauchery that he has both witnessed and participated in that he now thinks of himself as an animal and acts accordingly.  Two sequences at the beginning of the scene show the captor physically attacking what he sees as his prey.  In the first, they are both rolling around in the rubble as he pounces, and she deflects trying to defend herself.  But they each act out his or her part on separate sides of the stage, with a light alternately shining on each of them to highlight their actions. In the second sequence, he rapes her as she screams but there is actually a bench between them as he stands on top of the bench and she lays prone under it.  The use of a flashlight simulates the thrusting motions as he “penetrates” her.  This was all sickeningly painful to watch, but in reflection, you realize that the actors never touched.  Yet the illusions they created are forever seared in your mind.

Using her wits and determination to survive, the reporter talks sweetly to her captor, trying to find the humanity that she hopes still exists inside him.  She asks questions about him and tells quirky anecdotes about herself, including the time that she accidentally ran over a farmer’s chicken.  Slowly she works to break down his defenses as she plots her escape.

After that shocking and agonizing fifth scene, the sixth and final vignette felt jarring and out of left field in its change in tone, yet it had its own message to convey.  We are told that this story happened “pre-war” as a young woman runs up to the gates of a farm and tearfully tells the farmer and his wife that she just killed their chicken.  This clearly refers back to the previous scene.  At first the couple are nonchalant about the occurrence and there is some humorous debate as to the value of a chicken, which reflected back on the previous scene where the prisoner and her captor debate the value of a human life. But back to this scenario, once the woman, who is obviously wealthier than them, offers to pay for the chicken, greed sets in.  The demands the farmer and his wife make grow more and more outrageous as they take all of the woman’s cash, her jewelry, handbag and even want her car, threatening to lock her up and call the police if she doesn’t comply.  Suddenly, shocked back into reality by the cry of a neighbouring baby, they let the woman go while admonishing her for “tempting them”.   Perhaps the moral of this last story might be that it does not take war to trigger greed or evil?  Or maybe there was just the need to lighten the mood a bit before sending the audience out into the night?

This was an extremely difficult play to watch, but that was the whole point.  As badly as we felt experiencing enactments of these situations, imagine how it was, and still is, for the Ukrainian people to actually live through them.  We should be so grateful that we live in Canada where it is relatively peaceful and safe.