'To Kill a Mockingbird' still speaks volumes on race

Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mockingbird

This past Father's Day I had to privilege of attending the perfect screening to celebrate the occasion. I saw To Kill a Mockingbird at NYC's Film Forum, alongside a bunch of families and squirming kids.

And I can say without shame that the movie made me cry like a baby.

Not only does it feature Gregory Peck's most iconic performance of all time, as the ideal father figure Atticus Finch, but the 1962 adaptation of Harper Lee's classic novel also brilliantly addresses the class issues which are at the root of race prejudice, especially here in America.

I've seen this movie before maybe once or twice, but I have never been more overwhelmed by its power than I was this weekend. Perhaps, this was because I was experiencing it alongside impressionable youth, who couldn't even begin to comprehend what it would be like to grow up in segregation.

It may have also been my newfound appreciation for Peck, who has rapidly become one of my favorite leading men of Hollywood's golden age. The film could be dismissed as sentimental by some, but for my money it's one of the best films I've ever seen on the subject of race.

The movie is also brilliant when it comes to portraying the innocence (and lack thereof) of youth. Films today strive to make kids either punchline spewing accessories or little miniature adults with overly scripted quips. To Kill a Mockingbird got it right by using relatively inexperienced child actors who genuinely bonded with Peck on and off screen.

For those of you unfamiliar with the episodic story -- it tells the tale of a single father (Finch, played by Peck to perfection) who works as an attorney in the deep South and is raising a young son (Jem) and daughter (Scout). The kids get into mischief, largely centered around their preoccupation with an alleged neighborhood freak called Boo Radley, and watch as their father gallantly defends a black man (a heartbreaking Brock Peters) who has been falsely accused of rape.

I won't spoil the story for you if you haven't seen it but I will say that the picture is an indelible portrait of both good and evil, which I think lifts it above being a simple morality tale.

To Kill a Mockingbird cuts pretty deep for a pre-Civil Rights Movement movie. It may be hard to believe now but to even portray a black man as a martyr at that time was something of an act of rebellion.

There is a lot to unpack in this movie but I will focus on one key concept that I found especially compelling -- the racism is really about class, who ranks above who is the social hierarchy.

The ostensible villains in the piece are members of a poor, uneducated (and yes, bigoted) white family. The father beats (and it's suggested likely molests) his own daughter and the girl, in her hopelessness and desperation, has made overtures to Peters' character, who has wisely rebuffed them.

The pivotal moment in Peters' harrowing court testimony is when he says he "felt sorry" for the white woman, a cardinal sin in the segregated south. This simple utterance dooms his character as it did countless African-Americans who dared to show pride or dignity.

The other scene that I think illustrates the social structure dichotomy is the testimony of the girl. Any viewer can see she is lying under oath as Finch exposes her inconsistent testimony with relative ease. She snaps and delivers an angry tirade, directly addressing the jury of white men who she suggests are from a higher class than she is. She implores them to give her justice by sending a black man to his death and in uncertain terms implies that if they fail to do so they are tacitly admitting that she and he are equal.

Other great films on the topic of race (Do the Right Thing and Mississippi Burning come to mind) have tapped into this hypocrisy as well, but unfortunately far too often mainstream movies don't want to delve into the social and economic motivation for prejudice, they'd rather avoid nuance and provide easy victories for likable heroes.

To Kill a Mockingbird certainly has a likable hero, Atticus Finch was recently chosen by AFI as the greatest hero of modern cinema. And yet, he doesn't win, which is part of what makes this film great. The story takes place in the early 1930s when the threat of lynching was still very real. And Jim Crow laws were still in place by the time this film was released in 1962.

I always think it's important to keep history in perspective. My parents were both born in 1946. I am one generation away from bitter segregation. The film is both a classic and a telling harbinger of the times we live now.