TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD - Leeds Playhouse (17/09/25)

Sorkin and Sher magnificently adapt Harper Lee’s magnum opus

When one sees books banned by various governments and educational institutions, you do have to ponder over the motivations behind this suppression of knowledge, especially with regard to the countries to whom they hold up a grotesque, uncomfortable mirror. The material and message of Harper Lee’s seminal work “To Kill a Mockingbird” may well, by today’s standards, seem like a far fetched exaggeration in terms of its outdated attitudes towards ethnic minorities, Afro-Caribbean people in particular, however when you consider that the kind of discrimination and discriminatory language used in it were still in common parlance in the US as little as 60 years ago, and given the current political landscape on both sides of the Atlantic, the story remains heart achingly relevant.

As with the novel, our story is narrated for the most part by Scout Finch, along with brother Jem and their friend Dill Harris, as we follow the trial of African-American man Tom Robinson, defended by Scout and Jem’s father Atticus Finch, and the pair’s quest to get the wrongfully accused young man acquitted of rape and assault. The story acts as both a means of exposing and indicting the grave racial prejudice and injustice that was rampant during the 100 year period post-Civil War in particular, and a stark reminder that, even today, there is rarely any direct synonymity between the legal and the moral.

Dylan Malyn, Anna Munden and Gabriel Scott (credit: Johan Persson)

With a narrative like this, one can't afford to do things in half measures, and Aaron Sorkin has quite rightly made the decision to tell the story fully unabridged, warts and all, not shying away from the discriminatory attitudes or language commonly used in the 1930s. In collaboration with director Bartlett Sher and a creative team that included set design by Miriam Buether and costumes by Ann Roth, Sorkin has created a profound, at times ugly, but always mesmerising play, that adapts and brings to life Lee's original material with great aplomb and exquisite attention to detail.

But perhaps the most inspired directorial choice by Sher was opting for the jury to be present only by implication, with the two respective legal representatives addressing what we see as an empty bench, the 12 jurors' physical absences acting to dehumanise them, which is a rather brilliant means of highlighting the apathy and disconnect displayed by many a jury in trials of this nature, where the defendant was a person of colour being accused by a white individual.

Guiding us through this historical courtroom drama, gliding effortlessly between their characters and their direct narration towards the audience, were Dylan Malyn, Anna Munden and Gabriel Scott as Dill, Scout and Jem respectively. They each embody distinctly individual, yet collectively cohesive character traits, with Scout's curiosity and fearlessness, Jem's development from a naive boy into a morally upright young man, and the imaginative innocence, yet innate loneliness of Dill, each communicated marvellously well and working off one another splendidly. Arguably the leader of the three, Munden as Scout holds the audience in the palm of her hand, beautifully balancing Scout's childish, tomboyish energy with her wisdom beyond her young years, as she provides the now iconic child-like perspective of serious adult matters.

Richard Coyle and Aaron Shosanya (credit: Johan Persson)

Taking the reins in our representational action, Richard Coyle is simply sublime, as he reprises the role he took over in the west end, his depiction of patriarch Atticus Finch masterfully captures his kindly, humble, yet fiercely self assured and principled nature. One also has to highlight both Oscar Pearce and Evie Hargreaves, as terrifying, villainous bigot Bob Ewell, and his downtrodden, heavily victimised teenage daughter Mayella respectively; there is unspoken contention and friction between the pair of them, and the way in which they each portray their respective roles in this both frustrates and enrages us in the best way possible. Perhaps the most impassioned performance though came from Andrea Davy as Calpurnia, capturing the seemingly perpetual struggle of 1930s black America with terrific gumption and pain that we felt along with her.

It's the way in which everything is wrapped up in the end though, that really hits home the degree of injustice and abject passivity that spent so long festering away in America's judicial system, from its differing moralities, racially divisive rhetoric, and seemingly inherent dysfunction; in many ways Lee was decades ahead of her time, arguably the foremost when it came to calling out the USA, and its shameful history of racial aggravation and division. I don't think it's at all outlandish to state that Lee herself would have been immensely proud of what Sorkin and Sher have achieved with what is a spellbinding, hauntingly unfiltered take on her work.

★★★★★

"To Kill a Mockingbird” runs at Leeds Playhouse until the 4th of October, whichis followed by a tour of the UK

{PR/Gifted tickets}