TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD: 4K UHD Blu-ray (Universal, 1962) Universal Home Video
Under director, Robert Mulligan’s
guidance, one of the 20th century’s literary magnum opuses was effortlessly
translated into a defining masterpiece of American cinema. When it was
published in the fall of 1961, Harper Lee’s To Kill A Mockingbird was an
immediate winner, a Reader’s Digest and Book Club selection. That it also won
Lee the coveted Pulitzer was something of a surprise – if not to her legions of
fans, then certainly, for the authoress who claimed to be the last to be
informed about the novel’s widespread popularity. To Kill A Mockingbird (1962) has since gone on into legend, a much-beloved investigation of a past
imperfect, seen through the eyes of children, with all their wide-eyed
self-discovery to be matured, if hardly reconciled by racial prejudice in the
Deep South. In more recent times, the
movie has been criticized as something of a falsehood, “not as a record of
how things are - or were - but of how we once liked to think of them”, preserving
the “hopes and sentiments (of) a more naïve America” with a benevolent “white
liberal” as our hero. With due deference to the late Roger Ebert, from
whose movie review these aforementioned quotes have been gleaned, To Kill A
Mockingbird remains untainted by such reflections, and a peerless example
of the character-driven drama, precisely because Mulligan and his
cinematographer, Russell Harlan know where to place their camera.
The very best American movies all
possess a singular affinity for solid storytelling. But To Kill A
Mockingbird is more than just a good story anchored to an iconic performance.
It is, perhaps, the single most unvarnished social critique of a particular snapshot
in American history, its vein of racial prejudice transparent throughout the
1930’s (the time period in which our story is set) resurgent in the 1960’s call
for action in civil rights marches that rocked the South to its core. On every
level, To Kill A Mockingbird is therefore nothing short of a class act -
an experience, differing from the novel, perhaps, yet as engaging and
thought-provoking. The movie pivots on Gregory Peck’s Atticus Finch, a
variation on his already well-ensconced presence as Hollywood’s most congenial
voice of integrity. Peck’s built-in persona as a noble man is the ideal
complement to his alter ego. When Peck speaks, he shares in Atticus’ command
that all great orators – and actors, for that matter – possess, able to
effortlessly shift from a legal precedence to heartfelt objectivity as though
every word of scripted dialogue were part of Peck’s own thought process. Atticus
is more than a rock steady exemplar of the graceful man in full flourish. It is
a finely wrought and sober portrait of humanity at its finest. Horton Foote's
screenplay preserves the understated lyricism in Lee’s novel. But it is Peck
who makes the printed words leap from her pages to live on in our hearts
forever. Atticus’ undaunted morality is juxtaposed with the precepts of his
profession. He is, after all, a lawyer bound by ethics and the letter of the
law. Yet, he is dictated by a more altruistic code and moral compass.
Atticus Finch will likely forever remain
synonymous with Gregory Peck’s good name, perhaps because the parallels between
the character of this man and the character on the screen parallel an
unimpeachable persona as ‘integrity personified’. There is a hidden greatness
to author, Harper Lee's southern attorney, an understated heroic eloquence
magnified by Peck's magnanimous characterization. At once, Atticus is
humanity’s greatest champion and most humble servant. Widower, father, lawyer and
moralist, Atticus manages to draw out a reluctant dignity from this stubborn,
small-minded enclave of Southern bigots who would just as easily see an
innocent man swing from a tree to preserve their antique notions of gallantry.
The subject of ‘white America’s’ blindsided defense is an unworthy - the
bucolic tartlet, Mayella Violet Ewell (Collin Wilcox) whose unrequited lust for
her father’s hired man, Tom Robinson (Brock Peters), transgresses from arousal into
frustrated vengeance to see Tom punished for the imagined, despicable act of
raping her.
All works of art are meant to
inspire. Too few in popular entertainment do and even fewer still possess the
wherewithal to remain fresh and relevant fifty plus years after their debut. To
Kill A Mockingbird retains its former glory, largely as a ghost flower from
a bygone character-centric epoch in American film-making, and primarily because
of its im-‘Peck’-able leading man. To see it once is to remember it forever.
From its unconventional main title sequence, celebrating the lost recesses of a
child’s imagination, with a superb score by Elmer Bernstein, to the quiet
rectitude with which Peck transforms his seemingly soft-spoken gentleman into a
towering pillar of intellectual veracity, there is much to admire. Henry
Bumstead's superb production design and Russell Harlan's evocative B&W
cinematography conspire to capture the flavorful essence of a decaying South. Central
to the movie’s potency are the performances given by Phillip Alford and Mary
Badham, as Atticus’ children, Jem and Jean Louise – nicknamed, Scout. Herein,
Mulligan is immeasurably blessed to have two of the greatest discoveries of
their generation, each an old soul in a child’s body and able to meld the
inquisitiveness of a probing mind with intuitive reflections for someone well
beyond their years. Child stars are a tough nut to crack – most put through the
ringer by stage mothers before they are even able to ascertain what childhood
is and, inevitably, to adopt the well-rehearsed and copycatted mannerisms of
their parental wranglers. Neither Alford nor Badham possess this unattractive
quality. In fact, if anything, each has adopted some of Gregory Peck’s mannerisms,
a very solid role model, indeed.
Horton Foote’s screenplay covers a
life-altering three-year span in the lives of our prepubescent protagonists.
Scout and Jem live with their father, attorney Atticus Finch and his
housekeeper, Calpurnia (Estelle Evans) in Maycomb, Alabama. Apart from being a
respected member of his community, Atticus fervently believes all people should
be treated with the utmost respect and dignity. This has garnered him silent
contempt from the more bigoted town’s folk. Herein, both the novel and the
movie are a tad too simplistic in pigeon-holing poverty as the root of all
racism. Nevertheless, Jem and Scout are
well brought up and behaved, left mostly to their own accord during the summer
months and getting into genteel kinds of mischief, particularly when spying on
Boo Radley (Robert Duval) the neighborhood’s mute and mentally challenged
teenager, kept a virtual shut-in by his parents to quell the rumors. Atticus is
determined his children should come to their own humility by his living
example. As such, he accepts hickory nuts and other produce from Walter
Cunningham (Crahan Denton) as remuneration for some legal work as his client
has no money.
Judge Taylor (Paul Fix) appoints
Atticus as legal counsel to Tom Robinson, a black man accused of raping a white
teenager, Mayella Ewell. The white constituency assumes he is guilty based
solely on their biases. Atticus’ defense of Tom Robinson comes with
unanticipated repercussions on the home front. Never one to back down, the
tomboyish Scout is involved in a skirmish at school after being taunted by
schoolmates. Learning of a mob conspiracy to lynch Tom Robinson, Atticus takes
his rifle and sets up his post outside the county jail. When Mr. Cunningham and
an angry mob arrives, they find Atticus unwilling to allow them to pass. As the
mood of the mob grows ominous, Jem and Scout, along with a visiting child, Dill
Harris (John Megna) earlier befriended, naively intervene. Recognizing Mr.
Cunningham, Scout innocently asks him to say ‘hello’ to his son, Walter – a
fellow classmate. Scout’s inability to grasp the reason for the mob and her
willingness to still see the good in people, particularly someone she already
knows, shames Cunningham, the chief instigator of the mob. Rather than deface
his reputation in Scout’s eyes, Cunningham elects to go home. Having lost their
leader, the mob disperses. Although grateful, Atticus later instructs his
children they are to stay away from the jail from now on.
As the trial commences Scout and
Jem sneak into the upstairs visitor’s gallery to quietly observe their father
at work. Atticus skillfully lays out Tom’s defense. While it is certain Tom
came to the Ewell farm at Mayella’s request to assist her in chopping up a
chifforobe, Atticus establishes a timeline of paternal abuse that could easily
be responsible for the bruises on Mayella’s body. Bob Ewell (James Anderson)
is, after all, a notorious drunkard and a racist, prone to fits of violence and
possibly even sexual assault on his own kin. Atticus illustrates for the
all-white, male jury how the rapist in question was left-handed. He further
points to Tom as being crippled in his left hand. Bob, however, is left-handed.
The implication incurs Bob’s wrath. Atticus also points out no physical
examination was conducted to determine whether Mayella was actually raped. Now,
Mayella takes the stand. Alas, her testimony has been coerced out of fear. So,
Atticus places Tom on in the witness box. Tom denies the attack, but states
Mayella spontaneously kissed him. He also admits to feeling ‘sorry’ for her – a
lethal blunder, since the jury considers it highly suspect a black man should empathize
with a white woman. After minimal
deliberation, the jury finds Tom guilty, a crushing defeat for Atticus, who
vows to appeal. Despite the conviction, the black attendees in the visitor’s
gallery rise in unison to commemorate Atticus’ eloquent defense.
No sooner has he arrived home, then
Atticus is informed by Sheriff Heck Tate (Frank Overton) Tom was killed by a
deputy during his transfer to prison. The official story is Tom was trying to
escape. The more insidious truth is likely the deputy took matters into his own
hands to appease the mob. Bitterly disappointed, Atticus and Jem drive out to
the Robinson family home – a shanty on the outskirts, to inform his next of
kin. As Jem waits his father’s return, he is greeted by one of the Robinson
children. Then, a most unwelcome and startling surprise. Bob Ewell emerges from
the bushes, intent on terrorizing the family. Atticus thwarts him and is spit
on. Bob retreats into the woods more embittered than ever. With the coming autumn,
Scout and Jem settle into their studies at school. The unpleasantness of the
trial fades. Scout and Jem partake in an
evening Halloween pageant with Scout, dressed as a cured ham. Somehow, Scout’s
dress and shoes have been misplaced, forcing her to walk home in her
restrictive costume. Alas, tonight’s sojourn will be anything but uneventful.
Scout and Jem are attacked while cutting through the woods. Jem is knocked
unconscious. But Scout escapes from her costume just in time to see a man
carrying Jem’s body back home.
Scout alerts Atticus to their
ordeal. Doc Reynolds (Hugh Sanders) is summoned and quickly ascertains Jem’s
arm has been broken. Atticus sends for the Sheriff. Noticing Boo standing
behind the door in Jem’s bedroom, Scout realizes he saved their lives back in
the woods. Sheriff Tate confirms the body of Bob Ewell has been discovered in
the woods with a knife stuck through his ribs. Atticus assumes Jem killed Ewell
in self-defense. But Tate reasons the child would not have had the strength to
overpower his attacker. Instead, he recognizes Boo, who came to the children’s
defense in friendship. To cast a spotlight on Boo would be ‘a sin’. The boy is obviously unable to deduce right
from wrong or make sense of the publicity that would befall him should the
story ever go public. Together, Atticus and Tate concoct an alternative theory
of the murder they can agree upon as the official story. Bob, drunken and
stumbling through the woods, accidentally fell on his own knife. In the final
moments of our story, Scout likens the outing of Boo Radley to the parable
about killing a mockingbird. The movie concludes with Scout being able to see
the world from Boo’s point of view as Atticus keeps vigil over Jem while he
sleeps.
To Kill a
Mockingbird is required viewing – period. Few movies are, but this one ought to be
seen by every man, woman and child. Small wonder, a recent AFI poll picked
Gregory Peck's Atticus Finch as the #1 movie hero of all time - proof positive
the true measure of any man stems from the content of his character. Peck’s man
of integrity possesses the, at first, unseen strength of his convictions and
the towering weight of his perseverance. There is nothing in the world stronger
than kindness and Peck’s Atticus Finch is compassionate to a fault. Throughout
filming, Peck referred to a pocket watch to keep his character on time. The
watch was a studio prop. However, after Harper Lee saw the rough cut of the
film, she gave Peck a time piece belonging to her late father on which she had
based her literary incarnation of Atticus Finch, likening him to her father’s
memory. As an actor, Peck could have been paid no finer a compliment.
Universal Home Video’s native 4K
reissue of To Kill A Mockingbird is one of those rare instances where
the upgrade is essential. Back in 2012, Uni released it to Blu-ray in a deluxe
digi-book to mark the studio’s 100th anniversary. The results then
were impressive. The results now, given a new 4K scan are nothing short of miraculous.
Those familiar with the movie, know that many scenes were photographed
employing an optical zoom. This amplified the grain in these shots, and,
previously, made them appear rather dull and fuzzy on previous home video
formats. While a bit of technical tinkering managed to keep the boosted grain
in check on standard Blu-ray, the results in 4K reveal a refinement in that
grain that is very organic to film stock and pleasing. The B&W visuals are exceptionally
nuanced. You are going to love this presentation. Even on a 65” TV, the 4K
easily bests the Blu and should be considered the reference disc for this movie
presentation.
The new DTS mono audio really adds
kick to Elmer Bernstein's score. Dialogue continues to sound slightly strident
and thin. But hey - this is a re-purposed vintage mono track. Due diligence has
been paid in preserving it. That is about all we can expect. So, good news
here. We really have to doff our caps to Uni for going the extra mile in
remastering virtually all of the extras, some dating all the way back to Uni’s
own ‘Signature Line’ Laserdisc series from the mid-1980’s. The exceptional
documentary, Fearful Symmetry – produced in 1992 is finally presented in
its native 1:85:1. We also get vastly improved renderings of Gregory Peck’s
rather lackluster Oscar acceptance speech, and his far more eloquent oration at
the AFI’s Life Time Achievement Award ceremony that unequivocally proved him a
rarity in Hollywood; a gentleman’s actor. Next up is Cecilia Peck’s loving tribute to her late father, given during an honorary Academy
dinner. This is followed by Mary Badham’s glowing reminiscences of working with
Peck. Finally, we get 'Conversations with Gregory Peck' - a thorough
documentary, easily worth the price of admission, that follows Peck as he gives
a series of lectures and backstage passes during his emeritus years. This is the roughest looking piece in the
set, owing to less than perfect video masters. Uni has included all of these
extras on its UHD disc – a definite bonus. Bottom line: To Kill A
Mockingbird is a masterpiece. We could say as much for Universal’s due
diligence in presenting it here in near perfect quality for generations to
admire. Very – VERY – highly recommended.
FILM RATING (out
of 5 - 5 being the best)
5+
VIDEO/AUDIO
4.5
EXTRAS
4.5
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