To Kill a Mockingbirdis one of the most passionate, powerful novels about the American South, circa 1935. It dredges up everything that is good and bad in a medium-sized town in Alabama. It exposes hatred and prejudice that, unfortunately, cannot be confined to this era.
The very week this play opened in Milwaukee, some nooses and scary notes appeared at one of Milwaukee’s nearby universities. Although the effort turned out to be a hoax (by an African-American student), it got people riled up. And scared. And worried. University officials vowed to uncover the source of this material – and they did.
Such a thing would be unthinkable in the 1930s fictional town of Maycomb, Alabama, in which To Kill a Mockingbird takes place. Why would white folks be bothered with some nonsense about Negroes (as they are referred to in the play, when they aren’t being called n------s)?
The play opens in one of the sultry, quiet neighborhoods around Maycomb. Lighting director Jesse Klug bathes the set in a warm, sienna-colored glow. Children yearn to be “set free” from school for the summer. Adults gripe about the heat. As narrator Deborah Staples points out, there “wasn’t much money” during these Depression years. To emphasize her point, a farmer brings a bag of nuts to the home of Atticus Finch, one of the town’s lawyers. He is embarrassed at not being able to pay Atticus for some legal help he provided, and he quickly leaves the sack and departs. Atticus appreciates the “payment,” but he also realizes these townsfolk can’t do any better. And he doesn’t expect them to.
What he does expect, however, is for the same townsfolk to honor the law. When a black man named Tom Robinson is accused of raping a white girl, Atticus agrees to represent him in court. Although Atticus convincingly presents his case before a jury, he shows no surprise when his neighbors on the jury vote to convict Robinson of the crime.
The court scenes are played out in a brighter, harsher light. Lee E. Ernst, a senior member of the Milwaukee Rep’s repertory company, summons all his powers of persuasion to make the jury think twice about convicting a black man. Unlike the famous film, which starred a tall, lanky Gregory Peck, Ernst is squat and plays the role in a more low-key manner. At Atticus, he tries to be kind to his neighbors, especially the grumpy old lady who lives next door. It is interesting that the old lady, among others, often admonishes the children to show proper manners. And they do not see the irony in their behavior as they sentence a man to his death.
Act I is an introduction to this community. In an early scene, some 26 actors take the stage simultaneously. They sing gospels, and hum folk tunes to the music provided by an onstage trio. They are black, and white, and they all seem to know the verses to the same songs. Sound designer James Sugg provides a rich musical background to underscore the actions of those who live in this southern town.
The pivotal courtroom scene comprises most of Act II. As Ernst’s strategy unfolds, it exposes Bob Ewell (played to perfection by James DeVita) and his smug, foul-mouthed teenage daughter Mayella (Eva Balestreri). As they tell their side of the story, Jerod Haynes (as Tom Robinson) reacts with the air of a condemned man. Haynes does an excellent job of outlining Robinson’s actions on the day when he supposedly “raped” the white girl.
All the performances are extremely well done. In particular, Calpurnia, Atticus’ black housekeeper, must walk a tightrope between her people and her allegiance to Atticus. Calpurnia has been entrusted to care for Atticus’ children after their mother dies. According to Jem and Scout, Atticus’ children, Calpurnia is a force of nature. The relationship between Ora Jones as Calpurnia, and John Brotherhood as Jem and Mallory Wallace as Scout, seems to evolve naturally over the years. The two siblings, joined for the summer by a boy named Dill (Thomas Kindler) are all believable in their roles. The children are more interested in the “secrets” behind the doors of a shy neighbor, Boo. Although they make many references to Boo, little does one expect the character to play such a pivotal role in bringing the story to a close.
Jonathan Gillard Daly makes a memorable appearance as the town’s crotchety sheriff. Likewise, James Pickering shines as the world-weary Judge Taylor.
Director Aaron Posner allows the play’s events to unfold in a rhythm that seems unfamiliar to us in the 21st century. Every aspect of the production follows suit, to make this production of To Kill a Mockingbird a welcome addition to the season’s repertoire. The artistic team dusts off a “classic” in order to show audiences that the themes percolating through Mockingbird remain relevant today.
