Had it not been for To Kill A Mockingbird, this movie would be much more famous. Had it not been for Gregory Peck as Addicus Fitch, the acting here would be much more lauded. Had it not been for William Faulkner, perhaps To Kill a Mockingbird might never have been written in his shadow.
I found this movie to be sadly familiar because it showed me that one of my favorite movies, To Kill a Mockingbird, may not have been as original as I'd always thought it was. Perhaps it was inspired by this very similar movie. Oh, the "whodunnit" is different, but the underlying story, a lone righteous "white" attorney against a white Southern town defending a Black man is all too familiar. And, written by a woman, Mockingbird concentrates on rape, the ultimate betrayal to a woman while this movie concentrates on brother against brother hatred, the rape a man feels by fraternal betrayal.
There's not the depth of Mockingbird here. Not the comfort that Addicus brings with his presence. So you're just left with the sadness that, whether she intended to lift the plot from this movie or not, Harper Lee's Mockingbird reflects. Nothing changed in that 10 or so years since the time she may have read Faulkner's book and saw his movie while in college in Alabama and unconsciously or not took most of it as her own in later years. Nothing changed in race relations and some may say nothing has changed even now, these many years later.
It's all too sadly familiar, and one wishes there were an Addicus of our day to make it all right. Where Mockingbird leaves you with hope of that, rocking in the arms of Addicus and waiting for a morning of better times, this movie leaves you just sad that pride from Black people might equal or better the pride of White people. But pride from either is no answer at all.
Rather, it's the answer of Addicus we need, comfort that we are all flawed and that in our frailty we should have mercy, not pride, when facing each other in our differences.
I found this movie to be sadly familiar because it showed me that one of my favorite movies, To Kill a Mockingbird, may not have been as original as I'd always thought it was. Perhaps it was inspired by this very similar movie. Oh, the "whodunnit" is different, but the underlying story, a lone righteous "white" attorney against a white Southern town defending a Black man is all too familiar. And, written by a woman, Mockingbird concentrates on rape, the ultimate betrayal to a woman while this movie concentrates on brother against brother hatred, the rape a man feels by fraternal betrayal.
There's not the depth of Mockingbird here. Not the comfort that Addicus brings with his presence. So you're just left with the sadness that, whether she intended to lift the plot from this movie or not, Harper Lee's Mockingbird reflects. Nothing changed in that 10 or so years since the time she may have read Faulkner's book and saw his movie while in college in Alabama and unconsciously or not took most of it as her own in later years. Nothing changed in race relations and some may say nothing has changed even now, these many years later.
It's all too sadly familiar, and one wishes there were an Addicus of our day to make it all right. Where Mockingbird leaves you with hope of that, rocking in the arms of Addicus and waiting for a morning of better times, this movie leaves you just sad that pride from Black people might equal or better the pride of White people. But pride from either is no answer at all.
Rather, it's the answer of Addicus we need, comfort that we are all flawed and that in our frailty we should have mercy, not pride, when facing each other in our differences.