Tuesday, May 27, 2014

The Almost-Real South and Atticus Finch as the White “Savior”

In the small town of Maycomb, Alabama, young Jean Louise “Scout” Finch will get a firsthand account of the racism that her home holds in the wake of the rape-trial of an African-American man.
Harper Lee’s novel, “To Kill a Mockingbird,” was first published in 1960 during the African-American Civil Rights Movement.  The film adaptation, directed by Robert Mulligan, was released in 1962, two years before the Civil Right Act of 1964.  The film and novel occur during three years of the Great Depression.  The time when the film was made was when the writings of American film history began to incorporate the liberal views of the present day.  It was a time when issues such as social-justice, racism and feminism began to take center stage and influence many venues of entertainment.
According to Robert Sklar’s essay, “Writing American Film History,” “The growing militancy of the Civil Rights Movement during the course of the 1960s led historians to challenge the idea of past social harmony…of general accord.  Class and race were issues that were first reenergized and debated, and soon after, in the wake of second-wave feminism, came gender,” (Sklar 27).  When thinking about such defining moments in our history, we rarely consider how the children perceived what was going on around them.  In the adaptation of “To Kill a Mockingbird,” the director sets the tone of the film in the opening-credit scene.  Robert Mulligan employs diegetic sound of Scout humming to herself, while she colors some pictures and the camera pans over a box of items that look like they would have sentimental value to a child.  This scene sets the stage for how the audience will connect themselves with Scout and see the situation through her eyes, since she narrates the film.
The film uses several resources to transport the audience back to the 1930s South where the film takes place.  Although the design of the set pieces looks as real as the actual South, the film was filmed on studio lots in Hollywood.  According to Robert Brustein, in his essay, “The New Hollywood: Myth and Anti-Myth,” filmmakers of the period prefered “…to work in actual locales rather than on the more artificial studio lots… .”  He points out that “…many movie actors today spend more time in Arkansas, Mississippi, and New York than they do in Hollywood,” (27).  This is all part of the “new realism,” when filmmakers would come out of the realm of romanticism and focus on bringing their stories closer to real-life experiences.  In To Kill a Mockingbird, the use of set pieces that very much resemble the 1930s South act as agents to help the audience feel more connected with the town, its inhabitants, and its problems.  The film’s first bit of dialogue, which also is also said in the novel, is in the form of voice-over narration from an older Scout: “Maycomb was a tired old town even in 1932 when I first knew it.  Somehow it was hotter…A day was 24 hours long, but it seemed longer.  There was no hurry, for there was nowhere to go and nothing to buy and no money to buy it with.”  With the combination of narration and a craning shot of Maycomb, it’s evident how important it was to make the sets look like the South as much as possible.
Although actual locations could be more favorable to deliver a more realistic punch, set pieces that are built on studio lots can have just as much impact if they imitate the real thing correctly.  Although the film was shot on Hollywood studio lots, viewers wouldn’t be able to guess that when watching the opening shots of the film where we see the architecture of the Southern homes.  The sets don’t seem artificial at all, but reveal in careful detail a simpler time that dealt with complex societal issues.  Even though “To Kill a Mockingbird” was shot in California, the production designers were dedicated to bringing Maycomb to life, even if they couldn’t do it in Alabama.  They did, however, travel to the Monroe County Courthouse in Monroeville, Alabama to make sure they were accurate in their locale recreations.  Before filming began, the set designers took photos and measured the courthouse to build a near duplicate on the soundstages of Universal studios, according to imdb.com.  Even though the film crew wasn’t able to shoot on-location, their efforts to precisely replicate real places on a studio lot brought a Southern experience to the audience.
The sets are designed realistically enough that they eventually become characters in the film.  This is where the importance of the film’s cinematography comes into play.  Around the time when “To Kill a Mockingbird” was released, filmmakers were experimenting with innovative filming techniques to tell stories differently.  One of these techniques was the use of the shaky-cam that was meant to provide the film with a documentary-like feeling of realism.  However, this wasn’t used in “To Kill a Mockingbird.”  Instead, cinematographer Russell Harlan used a standard steady-cam when shooting the movie.  This works for the movie because the story doesn’t take place in a hectic environment, such as a city.  It takes place in small-town rural America.  The steadiness of the camera conveys the sense of the slow and calm lifestyle of Maycomb’s inhabitants and lets the audience absorb the county’s surroundings.  
The courthouse comes to represent the injustice of racism.  Even in an establishment where justice is meant to prevail, the blacks and the whites are separated in the courthouse, with the blacks on the upper level and the whites on the ground level due to unjustified segregation.  The courthouse becomes a paradox of a justice environment with injustice towards minorities. Even though on-location shooting wasn’t used for the film, the realistic Southern-look of the sets provided a significant change in the movie-going experience, causing it to become unsettling.  According to Brustein, “The celluloid is losing its sharpness of focus and assuming the murkier tones hitherto associated with European realism.  The settings are changing from plushy modern apartments atop imposing skyscrapers to shanty-town slums in rotting southern or northern towns,” (23).  Although studio-bound, “Mockingbird” seems well aware of the desire for real locations in the precision with which its studio sets were designed.  Brustein also describes how costumes started to come more from the Salvation Army, rather than professional designers, and describes how beautiful actresses started appearing more unkempt and were “reverting to the untutored accents of her original speech,” (23).  On the DVD of “To Kill a Mockingbird,” there is an interview with Mary Badham, who played Scout, conducted several decades after she appeared in the film.  She tells the interviewer that thousands of children were interviewed across the country for the coveted role; but the casting agents finally decided that they wanted to audition children that were actually from the South, in order for the film to feel more real.  Having natives of the South relates back to the desire to create the effect of on-location shooting.  The inhabitants of a certain area are every bit as part of the setting as the surrounding area.  The Southern accent of the film’s main star would come naturally, and would further blend the actress in with her setting, rather than a trained Hollywood actress adopting an accent.  Brustein says, “ Behind the scenes one can almost hear the fading tread of the cosmeticians, the speech teachers, and the beauty consultants – that vast army of unfamiliar names inscribed on a film’s opening credits – who have hitherto played so large a part in creating ‘screen magic,’ (23).  In To Kill a Mockingbird, the actors and actresses aren’t portrayed as glamorized versions of Southern citizens.  They are the real thing.  They wear their plain, everyday clothes.  Nothing about their garments is flashy or ostentatious.  If you look at many of the men in the film, they are just wearing plain button-down shirts and pants, and some wear overalls, like Mr. Cunningham.  If you look at Collin Wilcox, who plays Mayella Ewell, she doesn’t look like any Southern belle that you would associate with presentable looks and gracefulness.  She shows up in court with an anxious look on her face, yells at the courtroom attendants, and has hair that looks as though she just rolled out of bed.  Having the costuming and make-up reaching only the bare minimum, the film maintains a greater sense of reality because the film reflects that time period with a better degree of accuracy.    
In the beginning of the film, we have Scout drawing pictures and engaging in normal childhood antics with her older brother Jem and new friend Dill throughout town.  It seems like the type of movie that the old Hollywood would produce, with the innocence of its characters not threatened by any evil forces.  As the film goes on, we see that the story brings one of society’s largest problems to small-town America, and just because some of the main characters are minors, that doesn’t mean they are not out of reach of trouble.  Scout and Jem have their own brushes with danger.  They witness the injustices done to an innocent man who is sent to court for an alleged rape, are exposed a harsh racial term (the “N” word), defend their father from a mob brandishing guns and are attacked by the father of the rape victim late at night in the woods.  Scout and Jem see their father become the object of ridicule amongst some of the town’s people, and need Atticus to fulfill both parenting roles, since their mother has died.
In James Berardinelli’s 50th anniversary review of the film, he mentions the unsafe situations that Scout and Jem get themselves into: “A collateral aspect of this approach allows the filmmakers to examine the difference between how children and adults perceive danger,” (3).  The reviewer details how when Scout and Jem face the mob with their father by their side, they aren’t frightened.  However, when they have their encounters with Boo Radley, they react with terror.  The reason for this could be a case of what the two children do understand and what they don’t understand.  With the angry mob, the group is fueled by racism, which is a subject that the children vaguely understand.  If they can’t understand something, then they can’t be afraid of it.  With Boo Radley, the children hear stories about him.  Although they might or might not be true, the children believe them because they don’t know any better, and they assume that they understand the type of person he is.  Therefore, they fear him.
The film concerns a white, male lawyer who takes the reigns to defend an African-American man who has been wrongly accused of raping the daughter of a local man, Bob Ewell.  While Atticus Finch can be seen as a protagonist by some, others will say that his actions in the film could be condescending to African-American audiences because some view the film as being contradictory in its politics.  It raises the question: Does the film make it appear too strongly that African-Americans in danger need and seek the help of a white man?  
The first scene where this comes into question is the day of the trial.  As the judge commences the hearing, the viewer gets a long shot of the inside of the courtroom.  The viewer sees all of the African-American attendees of the trial on the balcony, but all of the white attendees are on the bottom.  By having the white attendees positioned on the first floor, they are sitting behind Atticus and Tom Robinson, the defendant.  This makes it look as though the blacks sitting above the trial are merely spectators to what’s going on, and the whites sitting on the ground floor are closer to the action, giving the appearance that they are the supporters of Tom Robinson, and are on the bottom floor to act as back-up to “the white man” who is coming to the rescue.  
The aspect of costuming also comes into play on this scene.  During the trial, Atticus and Tom Robinson are seated next to each other.  The two styles of clothing of these two characters are very different from each other.  Atticus is wearing a three-piece suit that calls upon the respectable nature of his status in the town of Maycomb.  His costuming clearly defines him as the person the story asks for us to cheer for.  In the case of Tom Robinson, he is wearing overalls, which can be categorized as work clothing.  This brings out his status as a working-class minority.  Because of his clothing, it gives the audience the impression that this is the character who we’re meant to feel sorry for; and therefore, we’re supposed to feel sorry for all African-Americans in the film.  So, the two contrasting wardrobes of these characters hint at the differences in both economic and social classes.
Another instance of “the white savior” comes at the end of the trial.  As Atticus is packing up to go home, we have eye-line matches and reaction shots of the African-American attendees looking at Atticus.  They have expressions of concern and reverence directed at him.  As he continues to pack, they begin to stand a few at a time.  By the time they’re all standing, Atticus begins walking towards the exit.  At this point, Jean Louise isn’t standing, just looking.  One of the black men then says: “Miss Jean Louise, stand up.  You’re father is passing.”  We then get a long shot of the whole inside of the courtroom, and see all of the African-Americans in attendance standing and looking down at Atticus, as if he’s the hero of the black man.  
According to Brustein, the filmmakers still had to satisfy the audiences’ cravings for glamour of their favorite stars: “The old matinee idols…were still expected to attract admiration from the spectator through the timeworn methods: their extraordinary good looks, their superhuman deeds, and their freedom from petty human complaints,” (24).  In the film, Gregory Peck’s character is tall, strong, and is very well known for being one of the best shots in Maycomb county.  But what we see as his “superhuman deed” is choosing to be the lawyer for an African-American man who many people automatically think he’s guilty because of a blanket of racism placed over the area.  One key way that Atticus Finch can directly be defined as the hero of the story is the way he dresses.  Throughout the film, he is one of the only characters who dresse in non-traditional working-class clothing, as compared to the other men and women in the county.  His profession as a lawyer calls for this. He wears dressy pants and a button-down shirt, matching vest, a tie, and has his hair neatly combed to the side.  Brustein says that the filmmakers wanted their protagonists to still look heroic, despite their aging looks.  Gregory Peck was only around 45 when Mockingbird was filmed, so there wasn’t a need to worry about graying hair or other signs of aging.  However, it was still important for director Robert Mulligan to dress Atticus in clothing that would clearly distinguish him from other individuals in the film.  Throughout the film, the viewer never sees him in casual clothing.  He’s always wearing his suits.  There is a reason that Mulligan could have had for that.  According to Brustein, “The teen-age girls might identify with Audrey Hepburn as Gary Cooper made love to her under a table, but the teen-age boys were finding it hard to identify with a hero who looked old enough to be their grandfather,” (24-25).  At Peck’s age around the film’s release, he wasn’t quite young enough to be considered a youthful hero; but also, not too old that he was automatically dismissed as an acceptable hero.  The suits assist in making Atticus appear as the dominant male, father figure and the protagonist of the film; therefore, he would be seen as a hero that the filmgoers could admire.
As a white “savior,” Atticus was a character that 1960s audiences could project their intolerance for racial injustices on.  They viewed his character as someone of their own race who could protect the minorities; and therefore, the whites would feel good about it.  The way that Atticus looks and is professionally dressed goes back to what Robert Wood labeled his type of figure: “the ideal male.”  One of the first acts of heroism that Atticus commits is a scene where he must confront a rabid dog coming down his street.  His maid, Calpurnia, calls him home, and he arrives with his friend, Sheriff Heck.  Heck has Atticus take action since he’s better with a gun.  As Atticus gets ready to shoot, we have a medium shot of him aiming the gun.  After realizing he can’t concentrate with his glasses, he removes them.  This could be a moment when Atticus briefly leaves his “workplace” self and brings forth his role as the town hero.  And yet, he’s still wearing his three-piece suit, reinforcing the notion that he is still a man of professionalism, and not brute force.  After he kills the dog, we get reactions shots of Atticus’s children, looking stunned at what they had just witnessed.  Atticus then tells his children: “Don’t go near that dog, do you understand?  He’s just as dangerous dead as alive.”  This quote brings racism to mind, having the dog representing it.  Racism is deadly to society when it’s present.  But it’s also dangerous when it’s dead because it has the possibility of resurfacing.  When Heck notices that Jem is still lost for words with what just happened, he says: “What’s the matter, boy?  Can’t you talk?  Didn’t you know your daddy is the best shot in this county?”  In this scene, Atticus is modest in both the film and the book.  In the film, he doesn’t press the matter any further of his shooting skills.  In the book, he cuts off Heck before he can finish his compliment.  In the book, Atticus’ neighbor, Miss Maudie, calls him “One-Shot Finch.”   
In Roger Ebert’s online review for the film’s 40th anniversary, he calls upon the lack of speaking parts for the black characters, while other white characters, though unimportant, have speaking parts.  He describes the sequence that follows a couple of scenes after the trial: “Atticus drives out to Tom Robinson’s house to break the sad news to his widow, Helen.  She is played by Kim Hamilton (who is not credited, and indeed has no speaking lines in a film that finds time for dialogue by two superfluous white neighbors of the Finches),” (2).  Bob Ewell arrives at the house afterwards, and asks one of the people on the Robinson’s porch: “Boy, go inside and tell Atticus Finch I said, ‘Come out here’.”  The only black character in this scene who has any lines is Tom’s father, and Tom’s mom doesn’t have any real lines, just sobbing when she hears of her son’s death.  This scene is mainly staged to be a confrontation between Atticus and Bob Ewell.  Ebert says in his review: “The black people in this scene are not treated as characters, but as props, and kept entirely in long shot.  The close-ups are reserved for the white hero and villain,” (2).  In a scene that was supposed to be meant for Tom Robinson’s family coming to terms with his death, it only briefly touches upon it, and then switches its focus towards Atticus and Mr. Ewell.
On the other side of the film’s ideologies, there’s the argument that Atticus is acting as the hero for the town’s black citizens because at the time, their voices weren’t considered as much as those of the whites.  In the scene following the trial, Atticus is walking home with his children when he is then approached by Miss Maudie, his neighbor from across the street.  When Atticus becomes involved in a conversation with another individual, Miss Maudie sits next to Jem on the front porch.  Seeing that he’s upset about Tom Robinson’s sentencing, she tells him: “I don’t know if it’ll help, but I want to say this to you.  There are some men in this world who were born to do our unpleasant jobs for us.  Your father’s one of them.”  The African-Americans in this film need someone to lend them a voice for two reasons: the racial injustices they endure often stifle their opinions, and there weren’t many lawyers who would take the case.   
In Robin Wood’s 1977 essay, “Ideology, Genre, Auteur,” formulates a list of film concepts that audiences have come accustomed to.  He writes: “Out of this list logically emerge two ideal figures: 9. The ideal male: the virile adventurer, the potent, untrammeled man of action,” (Braudy, Cohen 594).  Wood also details how this convention has its counterpart: “11.  The settled husband/father, dependable but dull,” (594).  Atticus fits into both of these categories in one way or another.  He exhibits strength through his belief in equal rights, and he’s a father who is always there for his children and wants to help provide a world for them that’s free of hate.  But he’s certainly not dull.   Atticus has to be seen as an idol throughout the film for several reasons, one of which is that he is accepting a case to defend an African American, despite the tension and ridicule it could bring him by some of the Maycomb residents, notably Bob Ewell.  Atticus paves the way for a more racially tolerant society by defending Tom Robinson.   Atticus Finch can also be seen as a hero in several respects to his children.  His suits represent him being a parent who is providing for them with a decent job.  They also represent the fact that his job is giving him the opportunity to teach his children lessons in the evils of racist attitudes.
When Hollywood started treating their films with a higher degree of realism, they took the risk with possibly losing audiences.  However, the approach they took provided moviegoers with a more realistic look at the societies that were being depicted on film.  There was more authenticity to what they were watching because the film crews used special resources to give a richer viewing experience, with aspects such as on-location shooting, actors and actresses from that certain location, and the deglamourizing of characters and setting.  By mixing those elements with the topic of conflicting ideologies in “To Kill a Mockingbird,” audiences were able to engage themselves deeper into the story and have a richer viewing experience.

Works Cited
Brustein, Robert.  “The New Hollywood: Myth and Anti-Myth.”  Film Quarterly.  Spring 1959: 23-31.
Sklar, Robert.  “Writing American Film History.”  The Wiley-Blackwell History of American Film.  Ed.  Cynthia Lucia, Roy Grundmann, and Art Simon.  2012.  19-36.
Wood, Robin.  “Ideology, Genre, Auteur.”  Film Theory and Criticism.  Ed. Leo Braudy and Marshall Cohen.  2009.  592-601.
Lee, Harper.  To Kill a Mockingbird.  New York: Brand Central Publishing, 1960.

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