‘Mockingbird’ black and white about race

David Renzi

Friday, Jan. 17, 1997 | 11:59 a.m.

The notion that the not-guilty verdict in the O.J. Simpson criminal trial was retribution for years of injustice perpetrated on blacks by the white majority has fictional corroboration in a novel by a Southern white woman.

"To Kill a Mockingbird," which won Harper Lee the 1961 Pulitzer Prize for literature, is the story of Tom Robinson, a black man wrongly accused and convicted of raping a white girl in 1930s Alabama, and Atticus Finch, a white lawyer who defends him while defying popular opinion and withstanding attacks to his character.

It is this morality tale, with a competing subplot -- the story of misunderstood recluse Arthur "Boo" Radley -- that the Actors Repertory Theatre tackles in its latest production.

Not only is director Georgia Neu attracted to the myriad thematic paradoxes (cowardice-heroism, ignorance-knowledge, guilt-innocence, prejudice-tolerance), but she is also interested in the trial, which seems especially cogent in light of the Simpson verdict.

"It just seemed to me that no matter what you think about the O.J. Simpson trial -- and I have my problems with it personally -- we do need to remember that this is not the first time in history that there has been a questionable decision made by a jury. There were a lot of years where an African-American person could not get a fair break in the South. It's important for us not to forget that."

And, she says, it is equally important to remember how one person (Atticus, played by Bryan Harris), through the sheer force of his will, courage and character, can effect change -- even if the end result yields disappointment.

"He was able to keep the jury out for several hours," Neu says, "whereas people expected the jury to immediately find him guilty. And whereas 10 years before they would have."

Which doesn't make things any better for Tom Robinson (Alex Mervin), whose goose is cooked regardless.

"Now, the girl would have to have an examination, if there was semen present it would go to the lab, and the jury would focus on lab evidence," Neu says. "But in those days it was a white woman's word against a black man's."

In this case, Mayella Ewell's (Jennifer Marsela). She is the daughter of the repugnant Bob Ewell, an alcoholic loser who rapes and forces her to implicate Robinson, who had befriended her.

"I'm wondering if I'm going to need a bodyguard when I come out of the theater," Brian Strom, who plays Ewell, says with a laugh. "One of things that I'm going into rehearsal curious about is how far I need to go with his villainy. If you don't hate him, there isn't as strong a story. You can't have any sympathy for him to the extent that you think he's right in court.

"The court decision has to leave you feeling that Tom Robinson has been unjustly found guilty. There can't be any question that the Ewells are lying. That's the challenge. How far do you go in depicting hatred? I think that's the key element."

The town's near-unanimous backing of Ewell says a lot about racism, hatred and hierarchy. Although generally despised and considered white trash, he is still a white man and, as such, is rated a notch above the humble and kind Tom Robinson.

Says Strom: "If you look at how much stage time he has, you think, 'Wow, he's really not present that much.' But his impact is central to the whole play. He causes the trial to take place and he represents the hatred of that region. It's certainly a meaty role and a lot of fun, in a way, to try to embrace that without any personal squeamishness."

Harris describes Atticus as one of the greatest fathers in literature and says that going back to the book "was like discovering an old friend."

The challenge of playing him, he says, is to avoid playing him too righteously.

"He is a righteous man, but he has a sense of humor. Whenever I approach someone serious, I try to find out where their humor is."

Harris believes Atticus is selflessness personified -- a person who will do what is morally correct rather than what is popular, even at great cost to himself.

"And he didn't want to (defend Tom Robinson). He says at one point, 'I would like to have gone through my whole life without this happening, but the judge chose me.' I think all of us at some time in our lives want to walk away from something."