Review
Review
Review: To Kill A Mockingbird
Bartlett Sher’s production returns to the West End to demonstrate what great theatre looks like
For more than eighty years we have identified with the cerebral anger of Atticus Finch, Harper Lee’s principled country lawyer. As Bartlett Sher’s award-winning production of To Kill A Mockingbird, adapted for stage by Aaron Sorkin, returns to the West End, it serves to highlight how the mood has shifted. Ten, even five years prior, Atticus’ insistence on seeing the good even in those capable of monstrosities might still have struck us as noble. But even whilst Atticus remains a sympathetic, admirable character, to see him preach this tolerance in 2026 doesn’t chime with quite how extreme the culture has become. It’s Jem and Scout’s philosophies that we relate more closely to now: we reserve the right to fight. We reserve the right to believe people when they show us who they are. We reserve the right to name the monsters.
Lee’s modern classic, inspired by her own childhood in the South, follows Atticus as he takes on the case of Tom Robinson, a Black man wrongfully accused of rape in the small farming community of Maycomb, Alabama. Despite clear evidence that Tom is physically incapable of having committed the crime, both he and the audience know that this is almost beside the point. The fight that Atticus really faces is in proving to the white people of Maycomb that Tom is deserving of their empathy and respect.
Sher’s production deserves its stars. Smart enough not to boil the show down to a courtroom drama in its design, it instead has the three child narrators (Atticus’ children Scout and Jem and their friend Dill) tell the story from inside what looks to be an old farm building or silo. Constructing and reconstructing Miriam Buether’s set – from the courtroom to the Finches’ front porch to the county jail – is a communal affair. The town of Maycomb is not an invisible force, but is brought to life by an ever-present ensemble, who reflect how the trial impacts both the local white and Black communities. Only the jury are conspicuously absent, represented by an empty pew, forcing us to guess at their reactions right up until the verdict.
In an incredibly impressive cast, the excellence of this production is assured not only by Bartlett Sher’s direction, nor by Harper Lee’s and Aaron Sorkin’s words, but by three astonishing central performances. Aaron Shosanya shouldn’t have to give such a powerful turn as Tom Robinson for us to be outraged at his predicament and fate, and yet the integrity and dignity in his performance can’t help but make a heavy piece even heavier. Meanwhile, Anna Munden as Scout is about twice as endearing as an adult actress playing a child in overalls has any right to be. Munden plays Scout with a solemn, squinting intensity, as a single-minded young person who takes herself very seriously, but has too little self-awareness to be precocious – a perfect translation of Lee’s heroine from page to stage.
And then, of course, there’s Richard Coyle as Atticus Finch, from whom is required magnetism in spades, with a heavy helping of human failing. Coyle forgoes a booming voice and air-sucking central turn for a very believable performance as a single father used to being out of his depth – we feel the weight of consideration behind every line. It’s easy for us, alongside Scout, to watch him in rapt admiration. But Sher’s production is quick to point out that Atticus sticks to his principles to a fault – the wonderful Andrea Davy as his housekeeper Calpurnia makes clear why this would-be white saviour needs more than good intentions to be a force for change. Redundant to say that To Kill A Mockingbird remains relevant – let’s say instead that you should expect this production to strike unsettlingly close to home.
To Kill A Mockingbird is now playing at Wyndham’s Theatre until 12 September – find tickets here
