Classic literature makes its way to the AFI Top 100 (10th Anniversary Edition).
Film 72
72. "To Kill A Mockingbird" (AFI Rank #25)
Heh. Know what's funny? If you take that link to the IMDB page for this film, you find the following films under "People who liked this film also liked:" "Casablanca," "North By Northwest," "Citizen Kane," "Lawrence of Arabia," "Rear Window," and...wait for it...
"Monty Python and the Holy Grail."
Yes. People who like "To Kill a Mockingbird" also, overwhelmingly, apparently, like "...Grail." Wow. That...that's a thing. I digress.
Once again, I find myself watching a film with two distinct "acts," the first act is the charming story of life growing up in the idyllic southern town of Maycomb, Alabama, with a rabid dog or the strange neighbor being the scariest things around. The second act is a searing courtroom drama examining prejudice, heroism, cowardice, and betrayal, culminating in attempted murder on a child. Harper Lee published what may be the greatest American novel in 1960, and this version was released in 1962. In researching timing on something like this, I discovered that "Jaws" came out a little over a year after the novel, and "The Grapes of Wrath" was also released in little more than a year. So, the idea of a quick turn-around on a tremendous film adaptation of a novel is not necessarily that hard to conceive. I thought it was. I was mistaken.
Directed by Robert Mulligan and produced by Alan J. Pakula (who directed "All the President's Men" and "Sophie's Choice" from the AFI Top 100), this film is a great work of art on its own, independent of its source material. Shot in black and white at a time when color was really the norm (this is the third in a row like that for me on the quest), this film uses that monochromatic choice to its great advantage. Picture this film in vibrant technicolor. It doesn't work the same, nor does it carry the emotional impact. No, the choice was deliberate, and the choice helped define the art on display.
The character of Atticus Finch was voted the #1 hero from AFI's list of "Heroes and Villains." Played by Gregory Peck with an almost unflinching solemnity, Atticus is what we all think the great American hero should be. Standing up for the underprivileged, yet completely willing to do harm if necessary, he's what John Wayne would be in John Wayne's head, rather than what John Wayne was - a privileged, often racist, certainly anti-gay, xenophobe. We see Atticus as a slave to reason, don't see many religious overtones in his house or demeanor, yet he follows the tenets of Christianity better than those God-fearing citizens of the town. He even, in one memorable scene, manages to turn the other cheek. The novel has numerous references to church, but they are absent in this film, including the changing of a line about Atticus saying he couldn't go to church on Sunday if he didn't defend Tom Robinson to simply "If I didn't, I couldn't hold my head up in town." That makes film Atticus an American hero, as his rationale for decent behavior is his own conscience, and his reliance on a moral code, rather than a dogmatic set of rules laid down in a book that is shared by numerous groups of "believers." It's possible to live a moral life with no religion, and religion is no guarantee of a moral life. Bah. I digress again.
Peck was given the Best Actor Oscar for his performance as Atticus Finch, and it's a powerhouse performance. Measured control when necessary, with a seething commitment to doing the right thing, Peck fairly bristles with energy whenever on screen. Helping him along this journey are the fantastic jobs of acting done by the three kids in this film, Scout (Mary Badham), Jem (Phillip Alford), and Dill (John Megna). As the story is really told through Scout's memory, the character of Atticus is a romantic retelling of Scout's memories of his life. Atticus may be impossibly good, because that's how Scout remembers him. As such, the first half of this film is really Scout's story over a summer in hot-as-hell Alabama. We see her meet Dill, who is visiting his aunt, the Finches' neighbor, and we see the kids have adventures. In researching the film, I found out that Dill is based on author Truman Capote, who really did visit Harper Lee's neighborhood as a kid, and whom Lee described as the "most realistic character in the book." I tell you what, you can see Capote in the kid who played Dill. It's a whale of a job. As are the performances turned in by Badham and Alford. Despite appearing in a major film adaptation of a wildly popular modern book, these kids act like kids. We buy them throughout, and that, friends, is amazing. 
If you don't know the story, here it is quickly summed up. Scout and Jem Finch are the children of widower Atticus Finch, a lawyer in the town of Maycomb. Helping him raise the kids is his African-American maid Calpurnia. The kids have all sorts of adventures one summer. Jem pines for a rifle, as he is 10, and believes it's time. Atticus doesn't own a gun, though, and tells Jem he's going to have to wait. Then, one day, a rabid dog appears in the neighborhood, and Atticus and the Sheriff, Heck Tate, rush to the neighborhood to get rid of it. Knowing that the dog is potentially dangerous to anyone it might come in contact with, the dog must be shot, preferably at a distance. Tate hands his rifle to Atticus, who reluctantly takes it, and with one shot, kills the dog dead. Jem, seeing this, is astounded. He comes to learn that his father, a man who forbids fighting (and guns) is the best marksman in the county. One Sunday night, while sitting on his porch, Atticus is visited by the local judge who informs him that he is being assigned to defend Tom Robinson, a black man charged with raping Mayella Ewell, a poor white girl with a drunken, racist, no-account father named Bob. He takes the case without even offering a single moment of doubt, and life goes on. The case is continued until the following summer. In the meantime, the kids do a lot of growing, and Atticus does a lot of being threatened by Bob Ewell.
Finally, the case comes to trial. Atticus proves (beyond the shadow of a reasonable doubt) that Tom Robinson is innocent of the crime, and that, in fact, it was Bob who beat his daughter, who'd had the temerity to try and tempt a black man. Of course, Tom is found guilty. As Atticus leaves the courtroom, the African-American contingent watching from the balcony rise in respect for the man who did all he could. Tom is killed that evening as he tries to escape prison, and while visiting his widow to tell her the news, Bob Ewell shows up, and spits right in Atticus' face. Atticus does nothing, just wiping it off in defiance. He turns the other cheek. Eventually, Bob Ewell comes to seek his revenge for being made a fool of by Atticus, and attacks his children, injuring Jem quite seriously. Boo Radley appears, and Bob Ewell dies. It is clear that Boo killed Ewell, and as Heck Tate points out, the last thing that the poor man needs is the gratitude of the town. Scout observes that if Boo's heroism is made public, it would be like killing a mockingbird, which is a sin. The film ends as Boo is walked home by Scout, no longer a mystery, but a friend.
So. What works so well as a film, with such great source material? I mentioned the acting. That is tremendous. Also of note should be the tremendous pace of the film. Nothing feels dragged out, nothing feels superfluous, everything seems to fit. Also of note are Peck's final summation speech, but what Peck claims is the thing that won him the Oscar is the poignant scene where Atticus, in defeat, walks out of the courtroom, saluted silently by those with no voice, one of whom Atticus worked so hard to help. We see Scout, Jem, and Dill grow a little in that moment, and really, we see the beginnings of the story that Lee felt she needed to tell...about her father. Atticus is based on Lee's father, and as I mentioned that Scout's memories are likely romanticized, so are Lee's.
That's still not it, though. I think, ultimately, this film grabs us because it never, not once, treats us like we won't understand something. It always treats us with respect, allowing us to observe rather than guide us. Visual imagery is often great, but that's not what is going on in the film. What's going on is relationships. What's going on is communication. What's going on is growth. Beyond that, there are details that are spot on, including something as innocuous as D.A. Gilmer chewing on a pencil in court, effectively saying that his job is so easy that being rude or gross doesn't mean anything. Contrast that with the amazingly clean and proper Atticus, and you understand just what is going on. Again, these are Scout's memories. I think the director kept that in mind. I know I did.
I mentioned monochromatic film. Here. If you've seen the film...can you imagine Boo Radley in color? I can't. By the way, Boo is played by Robert Duvall in his film debut. It's a tiny little role, one which I actually played on stage in 2004 as kind of a favor, but Duvall nails it, and completely takes over when he appears. It's a star-making turn, and Duvall makes the most of it. Know what's fun? Duvall is in 6 films in the AFI Top 100, They are this one, "The Godfather," "The Godfather Part II," "Network," "Apocalypse Now," and "MASH." Something I've noted about these films...character actors, especially good ones, keep appearing again and again. Duvall defines that.
Ebert did a piece on this one, too. His thoughts are here. OK, I just read it. He gets into the idea that the film is told by Scout. I'll say this, in argument to something Roger posits about how the focus after the courtroom scene is misguided. Wouldn't it have to be, if it's being told by Scout? Isn't what we see what she'd remember? Roger mentions that in other moments, but fails to follow that thought through to the completion of the film. He misses with that.
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