To Kill A Mockingbird - singing a haunting tune on tour

★★★★★

It's amazing, really, what you can see if you care to look.

Photo by Johan Persson

The clues and the signs of who somebody really is are there, right under your nose, waiting to be noticed. Look at the way somebody holds their arms, look inside paper bags with two straws held by a stumbling man, and look at the child so desperately craving company.

Aaron Sorkin's adaptation of Harper Lee's To Kill A Mockingbird urges audiences to read between the lines and look at, and question, their neighbours.

The 1930s in the deep South isn't hard to imagine, but set designer Miriam Buether has used non-distracting industrial style walls with exposed piping and cracked windows, the town yet another victim of poverty in the Great Depression. The ensemble cast as members of the community, maneuver simple dark wood furniture, forming the homes of families and of supposed justice. Structural outlines create front porches and courtrooms, but they're never complete; instead, the all-too-familiar images are left to the imagination, akin to reading the great novel.

The townspeople take their time; director Bartlett Sher has them move slowly between the scenes, leaving time for reflection - a stark juxtaposition to the amount of time this jury deliberates a man's fate. In the background, Adam Guettel's old Americana country strings and Jennifer Tipton's lighting evoke the last days of what for some is a hot and claustrophobic trial and others an exciting summer vacation.

Like the novel, plucky heroine Scout (Anna Munden), with her brother, the honourable Jem (Gabriel Scott), and "optimistic" friend Dill (Dylan Malyn), perhaps unreliably, narrates the drama. They recite passages directly to the audience, framing them as a swashbuckling adventure, a pant-losing quest for what is right. They bicker and play, daring to view the world through a whimsical lens. But as summer stretches, they become almost unrecognisable as children, having witnessed racism, abuse, and terror on their doorstep, while they circle the courtroom, mouths open, chests pumping, like flies on the wall watching Atticus (Richard Coyle) at work.

It's there that their father is representing an innocent Black man accused of raping a white woman, who is instead being abused by her antisemitic, KKK member father. Coyle presents a well-meaning but flawed man, growing with exasperation for the justice system and his so-called neighbours. As the accused Aaron Shosanya is devastatingly quiet, much of his emotion forms in his face and is carried in his body. His daring to feel empathy is his only crime. Playing the Finches friend and housekeeper, the powerful and moral Calpurnia, Andrea Davy, is a force and voice of reason.

Relentless monologues, brutal language, and devastating prejudice dare to smother the script, but they're controlled by an outstanding cast. Additionally, Lee's sense of humour adds a little light to proceedings. There are some truly funny moments, but your laughter will get caught in your chest.

To Kill A Mockingbird sings a haunting tune.