I suppose I could discuss the differences/similarities between the movie and the book, but I made my rules very clear from the beginning when I started this project; I have to remove myself from any prior knowledge I may have of the production of the film or any possible source material and evaluate it solely on its merit as a movie. And besides, I already did that assignment in the 9th grade and I’ve long since thrown that paper out.
The story is told in flashback mode, which can always be tricky to execute. However the most unique thing about the way this film pulls it off is that it is told by the narrator but without the hindsight of age and wisdom interjected. Rather, the narrator does little more than put the viewer inside her head while she describes the events as she saw them at the time. Jean Louise “Scout” Finch (Mary Badham) is the tomboy daughter of a respected but kindly-almost-to-a-fault lawyer, Atticus Finch(Gregory Peck). In addition to his demanding day job, Atticus is also a widower who is trying to instill the best values he can into his daughter and her older brother Jem.
Although Atticus wants more for his children than their impoverished, Depression-era Southern town can offer, he is never condescending or somehow “above” his surroundings. Early on in the film it is made clear that he has been donating his services to at least one local resident out of charity. He also goes to great lengths to make sure his children understand, whether it is true or not, that they are poor as well. Though there is evidence to the contrary (they own their home, Atticus drives a fairly nice car and they are apparently able to employ a housekeeper) Atticus assures Scout and Jem that they are in no way, shape or form “better” than any of the other townspeople. Part of what makes the storytelling method original lies in the crystal clear comprehension by the viewer that Atticus is in many ways the protagonist, despite the fact that Scout’s is the lone perspective.
Atticus’ values, no matter how well-intended, do lead to trouble for his whole family though when he accepts the opportunity to represent Tom Robinson, an obviously falsely accused black man of raping a white woman, Mayella Ewell, the daughter of the town drunk Bob Ewell, much to the outrage of the still segregated town. Atticus’ life, as well as his children’s lives, are all threatened at some point by various ass-backwards residents. Though Atticus is dismissive of allegations that he is a “nigger lover” it is evident that civil rights are indeed close to his heart; be it in his willingness to travel directly into the black community to visit with Tom’s family, the way his black housekeeper Calpurnia is recognized more as a member of his family than mere hired help or the one time we truly see him reprimand Scout after he use of the word “nigger.”
While this is pretty intense subject matter considering the relative young ages of the children, there is a fantastic subplot that both underscores the primary narrative as well as allows Scout and Jem the opportunity to experience life as children and observe it with the appropriate level of innocence and imagination. The neighborhood’s dirty little secret is Arthur “Boo” Radley (Robert Duvall) who lives in a boarded up house and is the subject of as much loose gossip from the adults as the children. Various disturbing tales of what goes on inside the Radley home have been circulated, building Boo up to be a mysterious creature who is just real enough to exist but rarely seen; much the same way a child imagines a boogeyman or a monster in the closet; and the mere implication of his presence evokes a concurrent level of fear and curiosity in Scout and Jem. When Scout winds up on the porch of the Radley house a simple and intentionally stereotypical horror film-like music plays, the beat resembling the heartbeat of a frightened child. Yet, on another occasion when the children discover Boo has been leaving little gifts for them in the knothole of his tree the concertina music aptly reflects their childlike wonderment.
By leaps and bounds though, the most effective and innovative way the film depicts the events as being seen through the eyes of Scout is by having several camera angles that are shot from a lower perspective, often looking up. Another scene where this tool is implemented to great effect is during Tom Robinson’s trial. Scout and Jem are sitting in the “blacks” balcony of the segregated courthouse looking down on the proceedings of the trial. Scout sits with her legs dangling through the balcony rails showing not only the events down below but the rails obstructing the view like prison bars- lending the shot’s artistry to both a foreshadowing of Tom’s future as well as the more symbolic metaphor of how even the people who are supposed to be “free” still view the world as if they are jailed.
“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.” (Atticus Finch, “To Kill a Mockingbird”)
Much of the, possibly accidental, cleverness of “To Kill a Mockingbird” lies in the fact that the adult characters themselves don’t really develop all that much- but since Scout is growing up and developing herself but would not be able to notice these advancements within herself, they are instead depicted as changes to the other characters. Though Atticus has always had a natural ability to shoot, the kids don’t see this side of him until he is forced to shoot a rabid dog that is terrorizing the town. Though this is really one of the least “noble” of Atticus’ actions when compared to the rest of the film, in a child’s eyes, this very archaic display is seen as a godlike act of courage, and the level of the kids’ respect for him as well as their interest in the trial increases exponentially.
No film is entirely without flaw and there are certain aspects of “To Kill a Mockingbird” that do bother me. Though it does defiantly address pre-civil rights movement race relations head-on, there is still a heavy level of idealism. People just like Atticus Finch met grisly fates when they attempted to do the right thing in the Jim Crow south. Viola Liuzzo, Paul Guihard and Bruce Klunder represent far more real consequences of the dangers of being considered a race traitor. Were it not for the inclusion of a scene where the townspeople attempt to lynch Tom Robinson before he is able to go to trial I would question the film’s credibility on the subject altogether.
However, I can also understand the importance of the approach “To Kill a Mockingbird” does take. The theme and the essence of the story, not to mention the title itself all revolve around the concept of innocence; literal and figurative. The limbo period the children are stuck between in light of their father’s actions and the robbing of their innocence, the obvious innocence of Tom Robinson, the heavy implication that Bob Ewell has been raping his own daughter and thus taking her proverbial innocence, the unfair persecution of Boo Radley who’s level of wrongdoing or even mental capacity are never confirmed. There are numerous takes on the concept of innocence but they are all very powerful and predominant.
Of course, I can’t accurately comment on this film without discussing Gregory Peck’s performance as Atticus Finch. His refined diction in a film filled with southern drawls elevates him above all the other characters in a very non-arrogant way. His refusal to sink to the level of his dissidents no matter how much he is antagonized give the character an almost ethereal presence bordering on the type of character you would read about in religious text. In an era in film where you weren’t a man unless you were John Wayne getting into a gunfight with Robert Duvall or Rock Hudson beating the piss out of James Dean, Gregory Peck totally redefines the leading man by not having a love interest or a climactic duel, but instead staring down the barrel of a far more ominous type of doom and for a far more noble cause.
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