Great Scene: “To Kill a Mockingbird”
I’ve been going through my various Lists and was shocked to discover that in Great Scenes, I currently do not have anything from one of my favorite movie of all time To Kill a Mockingbird. I determined there and then to do something about it — now!
The problem is — which scene? So many great moments. Atticus Finch (Gregory Peck) shooting the rabid dog. Scout (Mary Badham) inside the family car, threatened by a drunk and surly Bob Ewell (James Anderson). The night that Atticus stands guard outside the local jail to keep a mob from lynching Tom Robinson (Brock Adams). The assault on Scout and her brother Jem (Phillip Alford) by Ewell only to be saved by a mystery figure. The reveal of Boo Radley (Robert Duval) lurking in the shadows of the Finch house to make sure that Scout and Jem are safe — for it was he who saved them from Ewell, killing Ewell in the process.
As I say, so many profound moments in the movie. But it is impossible for me to watch the film and to this day not be moved by the closing argument Atticus gives at the trial:
INT. COURTROOM - CLOSE SHOT - ATTICUSATTICUS
Gentlemen, I would like to use my
remaining time with you to remind
you that this case is not a
difficult one.We see the jurors from Atticus' P.O.V. They watch with no
show of emotion. These are the faces of farmers -- lined
and careworn.BACK TO ATTICUS - As he talks, he looks into the eyes of
the men of the jury as if to find one to encourage him.ATTICUS
To begin with, this case should
never have come to trial. The
State has not produced one iota of
medical evidence to the effect
that the crime Tom Robinson is
charged with ever took place. It
has relied instead upon the
testimony of two witnesses whose
evidence has not only been called
into serious question on cross
examination, but has been flatly
contradicted by the defendant.
There is circumstantial evidence
to indicate that Mayella Ewell was
beaten savagely by someone who led
almost exclusively with his
left... and Tom Robinson now sits
before you with the only good hand
he possesses... his right hand.
I have nothing but pity in my
heart for the chief witness for
the state. She is the victim of
cruel poverty and ignorance -- but
my pity does not extend so far as
to her putting a man's life at
stake which she has done in an
effort to get rid of her own
guilt. I say guilt, gentlemen,
because it was guilt that
motivated her. She has committed
no crime, she has merely broken a
rigid and time honored code of
our society, a code so severe that
whoever breaks it is hounded from
our midst as unfit to live with.
She must destroy the evidence of
her offense. What was the
evidence of her offense? Tom
Robinson, a human being. She must
put Tom Robinson away from her.
Tom Robinson was her daily
reminder of what she did. What
did she do? She tempted a Negro.
She was white, and she tempted a
Negro. She did something that in
our society is unspeakable: She
kissed a black man. Not an old
Uncle, but a strong, young Negro
man. No code mattered to her
before she broke it, but it came
crashing down on her afterwards.
The witnesses for the state, with
the exception of the Sheriff of
Maycomb County, have presented
themselves to you gentlemen, to
this Court, in the cynical
confidence that their testimony
would not be doubted, confident
that you gentlemen would go along
with them on the assumption -- the
evil assumption -- that all
Negroes lie, that all Negroes are
basically immoral beings, that all
Negro men are not to be trusted
around our women, an assumption
one associates with minds of their
caliber, which, gentlemen, we know
is in itself a life I do not have
to point out to you. And so a
quiet, respectable, humble Negro
who had the unmitigated temerity
to "feel sorry" for a white woman
has had to put his words against
two white people's. The defendant
is not guilty, but somebody in this
courtroom is.THE JURY -- ATTICUS' P.O.V.Their faces haven't change expression. One man's chin
itches, and he scratches it. One man brushes a fly off
his knee.BACK TO ATTICUSHis face is beginning to perspire. He wipes it with a
handkerchief.ATTICUS
In this country, our courts are the
great leveler, and in our courts
all men are created equal. I'm no
idealist to believe firmly in the
jury system. That is no ideal to
me...It is a living, working
reality. Gentlemen, a court is no
better than each man of you
sitting before me on this jury. A
court is only as sound as the men
who make it up. I am confident
that you gentlemen will review
without passion the evidence you
have heard, come to a decision,
and restore this defendant to his
family. In the name of God, do
your duty. In the name of God,
believe Tom Anderson.
Why is this speech so powerful? Its words work on many levels, but perhaps none more than this: Atticus puts racism on trial. “The defendant is not guilty, but somebody in this courtroom is.” The subtext goes beyond Ewell and his daughter; not just generalized bigotry, but the institutionalized racism that existed in the South at the time. Listen to Peck’s brilliant delivery of these words, how he rises in defense of Tom Anderson — and indicts bigotry:
Why do certain movies cling to us throughout the years, so profound in their impact that they lurk just barely beneath our consciousness, scenes and moments that we can replay in our minds in an instant? In terms of To Kill a Mockingbird, I have a straight line from my own life-experience — through Scout.
At the time of the movie’s trial, Scout is 9 years old. My family moved from California to Montgomery, Alabama in 1963 when I was 10 (my father was an officer in the Air Force and attended the Air War College in Montgomery from 1963–1964). Although the movie To Kill a Mockingbird was released in 1962, I didn’t see it until a few years later, but when I did, I was completely sucked into Scout’s journey because of my experience of the institutional form of racism I witnessed in Montgomery — segregated schools, segregated Little League baseball, “Colored Only” water fountains and bathrooms, “No Negroes Allowed” signs at restaurants, and on and on. A white youth for the first time in an overt segregated world.
In 1963, George Wallace was sworn in as Governor of Alabama. In June of that year, he stood in front of the entrance to an auditorium at the University of Alabama, attempting to block the entrance of two African-American students. Every Sunday I attended church in downtown Montgomery — directly diagonal to the church Wallace attended.
Also that summer, President John Kennedy sent what came to be known as the Civil Rights Bill to Congress. He didn’t live to see its eventual passage as Kennedy was assassinated that November. When a school official entered our classroom to announce the news of the shooting, many of my classmates applauded.
In 1964, the Kennedy half dollar was first minted. The only physical altercation of my life occurred when one of my schoolmates spit on a shiny, new Kennedy coin and incensed, I jumped him.
As a 10 year-old boy, I grew to loathe Alabama. To this day, I can not think of the state without recalling a host of negative associations. And these were the experiences of a white person, standing on the periphery of the segregationist system, not a person of color subjected to its degrading impact on a daily basis.
To Kill a Mockingbird became an important place for me to go to try process my experiences in Alabama. But it also serves as a reminder that it’s possible to write a compelling, entertaining story that can at the same time hold up a mirror to expose social ills and cultural ignorance. And oh yes, to give us one of the most memorable cinematic heroes of all time — Atticus Finch.
Any other fans of Mockingbird out there? If so, why does the movie resonate with you?
Are there other movies that speak directly to something in your own life experience?
[Originally posted December 4, 2009]
