Sixty years ago Harper Lee penned what has become perhaps the quintessential American coming of age novel, the enduring and beloved To Kill a Mockingbird which became in turn one of the most enduring and beloved movies of all time starring Gregory Peck, who won the Academy Award for his heartwarming portrayal of antihero Atticus Finch, a smalltown lawyer trying to make a difference in the morality of the deep South.
Five years ago, a new version of the play debuted on Broadway by Oscar and Emmy Award winning screenwriter (The West Wing, The Social Network, Being the Ricardos) and playwright (A Few Good Men) Aaron Sorkin, which was unfortunately the center of a good degree of internal and external controversy. Originally criticized by purists, most notably the estate of Harper Lee, who disagreed with Sorkin’s revisions of the beloved piece. The family eventually settled out of court to keep the production on its Broadway debut track.

Sorkin’s biggest change is focusing the bulk of the plot on the Tom Robinson rape trial thus making Atticus the above-the-title star of the piece, using the children (particularly the book’s lead character, daughter Scout) as the narrators stepping in and out of adult versions of themselves retelling the seminal events of their childhood and judgmentally observing the trial, then falling back into their child personas to perform in the story they are telling. He also spent much effort to develop and defining the African-American characters of the unjustly accused Robinson and the Finch’s maid Calpurnia more fully within the story. But the bulk of the controversy came courtesy of the show’s arrogant producer Scott Rudin, who endeared himself to no one when he pulled shenanigans such as countersuing the estate of Lee for protesting changes to the script and suing every small community and high school theatre company near any major market touring house performing another author’s previous version of the work, claiming Lee’s estate gave him exclusive rights to the piece (they didn’t and his claims were unfounded, but what little group had the money to fight his bullying).
Five years and a pandemic later, the production (from which Rudin “withdrew” amidst further complaints making him the center of the movement to end abusive Broadway working conditions, then, in one final abusive power-play “reinstated” himself just long enough to close the show on Broadway last year before it could reopen and compete with his next project, the Hugh Jackman fronted Music Man) is now enjoying a successful national tour playing the rest of the month (appropriately, the end of the summer) at the Kennedy Center. And with all the internal and backstage drama in the rearview mirror, we can now focus on the play itself and Sorkin’s adaptations to make it work on stage, and the view is magnificent. It’s themes of racism and white perceptions of its implications are obviously still relevant and universal (Lee’s account of events that end the story is, sadly, eerily prescient of the exact racial events that haunt us today, almost a century later). Director Bartlett Sher (Lincoln Center’s The King & I, South Pacific, My Fair Lady) is a genius for drawing out subtle, believable, introspective, realistic characters from his performers, and he has an incredibly gifted cast from which to paint his intricate and intimate portraits.

Led by TV veteran Richard Thomas, who provides a strong center for Sher to build his updated morality tale around, and between the two they keep the 3 hour piece moving so quickly and fluidly that the audience easily suspends time to invest in their storytelling. Thomas (who succeeds Broadway stars Tony Nominee Jeff Daniels, Ed Harris, and Greg Kinnear in the role) is a natural match. What could be cynically seen as clever stunt casting is actually brilliant use of Thomas’ strengths as he draws effortlessly on his familiar persona as the wise, rural, depression-era moral compass that he brought into America’s living rooms for the better part of a decade fifty years ago. Underneath his perceived understanding of the world, the lessons about racism, parenting, and the basic goodness of people in general as he understands him, there is still a hint of the idealistic John Boy Walton grown up and balancing his optimistic view of he world as it should be with the disillusionment of how it actually turned out. We never stop cheering for Thomas even as he finally compromises his beliefs to gain what small progress he can.

As daughter Scout, the character through whose eyes we still observe the story, Maeve Moynihan is a winsome storyteller, jumping back and forth from innocent child (age 9-ish, according to the events from the book) who gets a hard lesson in the realities of real life at an early age to 20-something law student who narrates the show as we see her grow up. Sorkin has always been considered a master of dialogue and expertly floats between his sweetly innocent views from the eyes of the children and the more worldly views of the adult versions who narrate the tale to us. It could even be said that he utilizes his infamous “walk and talk” version of storytelling as Scout comes forward between scenes to “converse” with the audience from the front of the stage.

Justin Mark as her worldly (at least in his eyes) older brother Jem provides an insightful portrayal of the more realistic view of the world his younger cohorts inhabit balanced with impetuous decisions consistent with the last days of his own waning childhood. Mark gives a finely nuanced performance transitioning fluidly between the last days of boyhood and the beginning of young manhood, balancing youthful comedy with the sad disillusionment that children have at a certain age when they realize that their parents, who they have idolized their entire lives, are in fact simply human.
Steven Lee Johnson is charmingly goofy as the sibling’s quirky best friend for the summer, Charles Baker Harris (who goes simply by the preferred moniker “Dill”), who proudly moves to his own drummer and is totally comfortable with that. His ability as an adult to slip into Dill’s sunny childish innocence, sweetly reveling in the new makeshift family he’s never had, is alternately endearing and, eventually, heartbreaking. Johnson makes a difficult role look far too easy.

Yaegel T. Welch is devastating in a powerhouse performance as a clearly framed Tom Robinson, fighting a Sisyphean battle to be declared innocent of a crime which he is proven miles beyond a reasonable doubt incapable to have committed, but at the mercy of a racist all-white jury. Jacqueline Williams as maid Calpurnia is a strong, welcome presence as she provides the “passive-aggressive” grounding reality reminding Finch that even his far left progressiveness is still rooted in inconvenient truths that either are drawn from or naively ignore the racism that even the more fortunate black citizens like herself experience every day of their lives. Welch and Williams team up to provide a powerful reminder that almost 100 years later, we have not progressed nearly as far as we would like to think we have as a society.

Among the uniformly strong ensemble that add a bright palette of local color to the residents of Maycomb. Alabama, standouts include Joey Collins as the villain of the piece, the vile, white trash, alcoholic racist Bob Ewell, Mariah Lee as his not-so-obedient daughter and instigator of the sordid tale, alleged rape victim Mayella, Liv Ruth as local gossip maven Miss Stephanie, and David Manis as the dry, no-nonsense Judge Taylor who has no patience for the fancy legal posturings of pretentious prosecuting attorney Horace Gilmer (a deliciously smug Luke Smith). Travis Johns makes an heartwarming (almost literal) 11:00 appearance as gentle, misunderstood would-be villain, the mysterious Boo Radley.

One performance of special note with sweet sentimental value to this production was the appearance of Mary Badham in the cameo role of Mrs. Henry Dubose, the “crazy old lady at the end of the street”, a racist neighbor who is so mean and vicious to Scout in their limited stage-time together. For those who don’t recognize the name, check only so far as IMDb to find that Badham gained cinematic cred as an 8-year-old most famous for creating the role of Scout in the iconic Gregory Peck movie.

Scenic Designer Miriam Buether’s imposing unit set is very effective selecting the decaying structure of an ancient rural municipal building as the backdrop for a morality play reflecting the archaic, decaying legal system we still endure today, with extremely fluid set changes despite featuring substantial pieces that float in and out between the courtroom and the Finch home. Costume Designer Ann Roth flawlessly dresses her cast in her typically impeccable period wear, Grapes of Wrath mixed with a side of Tennessee Williams, in easy-on-the-eye soft pastels and earth tones. She excels with the rural play clothes she employs for the clearly 20-something actors who play Scout, Jem, and Dill. For between her designs and their enthusiasm in the roles, we never question their youth within the story. Lighting Designer Jennifer Tipton compliments them both with effective, enhancing mood lighting, and Scott Lehrer provides the Kennedy Center’s always exceptionally clear sound.

Big musicals usually dominate the season at touring houses nationwide. But this grand, sweeping classic American story is a welcome, strong addition to the the Kennedy Center’s current flashy, blockbuster season. It’s a resounding tale that still stings with its unavoidable sadness and discomfort when it confronts us with the racist roots it lays in front of us—a sad reminder of how far we’d like to think we’ve come in the last century versus how little we actually have. See the play, then read the book and watch the movie. All rise. We still have so much to learn.
All photos courtesy of Julieta Cervantes.
The show runs 3 hours with a 15 minute intermission.
To Kill a Mockingbird, runs through August 27, 2023, in the Opera House at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, 2700 F Street NW, Washington DC 20566. For tickets, call the box office at 202.467.4600 or purchase online