Written by Aaron Sorkin, after Harper Lee’s To Kill A Mockingbird

Directed by Bartlett Sher

Review by Dominic Corr

The Festival Theatre

All Rise for Bartlett Sher’s chillingly relevant production of To Kill a Mockingbird, adapted by Aaron Sorkin, arrives at Edinburgh’s Festival Theatre with the weight of expectation and the urgency of relevance. What unfolds is a visually arresting, ardently charged piece of theatre that balances courtroom drama with childhood memory, and never lets its audience forget the terrifying persistence of injustice.

The story, familiar but freshly sharpened, follows lawyer Atticus Finch as he defends Tom Robinson, a Black man falsely accused of assaulting a white woman in 1930s Alabama. Told through the eyes of Finch’s daughter Scout, the play oscillates between the innocence of youth and the brutal clarity of adult prejudice. Filling in for Richard Coyle, John J. O’Hagan’s Atticus is measured and magnetic, a man whose moral compass never wavers even as the world around him buckles in a reserved performance which resonates, delivered with a blow which shatters expectations where required. But it’s Aaron Shosanya’s Tom Robinson who delivers the evening’s most quietly devastating performance. His restraint, dignity, and heartbreak are etched into every movement, and when the verdict lands, it’s his silence that echoes longest.

Key to the narrative construct, directed with flair, if occasionally leaning upon for levity by Sher, the trio of child performers performed by Anna Munden as Scout, Gabriel Scott as Jem, and Dylan Malyn as Dill, brings a buoyant energy that never feels forced. Their humour is natural, their timing sharp, and their ability to pivot into the script’s darker turns is handled with remarkable maturity. They are the lens through which the audience sees Maycomb, and their presence keeps the play from sinking into didacticism.

Visually, the production is a masterclass in slow revelation. Miriam Buether’s set doesn’t present Maycomb as a fixed location but as a space that unfolds, reshapes, and contracts as the story tightens. Furniture slides, walls shift, and the courtroom emerges not as a static centrepiece but as a living, breathing arena. Jennifer Tipton’s lighting design heightens this effect, moving from warm domestic tones to stark, interrogative beams that isolate and expose. It’s tied together nicely by Ann Roth’s costumes, which are understated but precise, allowing character and class to speak without distraction.

Sorkin’s script is fast-paced, often witty, and occasionally polemical, but Sher’s direction ensures it never loses its emotional core. The production leans into the humour where it can, especially through the children, but never lets the audience forget what’s at stake. The imagery hits hard: a single spotlight on Tom, Scout framed in a doorway, the courtroom folding in like a trap, and the parallels with contemporary America are impossible to ignore, and they shouldn’t be. This isn’t just a period piece; it’s a mirror held up to systems that still fail.

At nearly three hours, the production occasionally tests its own momentum. Some scenes linger longer than necessary, and a few transitions feel indulgent rather than illuminating. But these are minor quibbles in a show that otherwise lands with precision and power. To Kill a Mockingbird is a production that builds its world slowly, then breaks it open. It’s a story of courage, cruelty, and the cost of silence, told with clarity and compassion. Shosanya’s performance is unforgettable, while others bring both levity and weight, and the design choices elevate the text into something hauntingly immediate. This is exceptional theatre that doesn’t just retell a classic – it reclaims it.

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