Oddly, I have never read TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD so I can't compare what's on stage now with the book. Sorkin's memory play is a straightforward depiction of racial injustice in the mid-century American South. It's well produced and handsomely mounted but thorougly unsurprising, which is perhaps why it exists (Lee's estate protested mightily as it is). The novel is, after all, an "American classic" which among other things can mean, as it does here, that tried and true, or a version of it, is the order of the day. At this point in time a story that celebrates a white man's efforts to save a victimized black man seems at the very least facile if it isn't offensive. Sorkin gives the black maid a voice so as to mitigate what's unsavory about this White Knight approach to racial victimization, but she's more a sage--a trope in itself--than a character. As it stands, TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD is a sort of salvific fantasy of white American decency: see it and feel good about yourself.