Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose. That was the somewhat dispiriting conclusion I came to last night, after watching the utterly wonderful Kevin Spacey in his one man Clarence Darrow production at the Old Vic. Don’t get me wrong, it was a stunning, thought-provoking evening and I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it.

However, the subject matter of the play made it clear that the good fight which Clarence Darrow fought must be re-fought every few decades, and not just in the USA. Murder by children, the fight for workers’ rights, the fight against creationism, all these are far from over. The only crusade of Darrow’s that I think is being won is the fight against the death penalty, although its demise is certainly taking a while.

I had been aware that Darrow defended the child killers Leopold and Loeb, and of course of the Scopes Monkey Trial. I had not been aware of his earlier work as a labour lawyer and his defence of the McNamara brothers, who set off an explosion in the LA Times building in 1911. All of these cases were discussed in some detail in the play, although we were fortunate to hear from Thea Sharrock, the director, who told us that the original 1974 version of the play (written for Henry Fonda) had to be significantly changed to explain things to a modern, London audience.

A case that I had not been aware of in particular was that of Ossian Sweet. In 1925, a white mob in Detroit attempted to drive a black family out of the home they had purchased in a white neighborhood. In the struggle, a white man was killed and the eleven black people in the house were arrested and charged with murder. Dr. Ossian Sweet and three members of his family were brought to trial. The play drew heavily from Darrow’s closing statement, which lasted over seven hours and is seen as a landmark in the Civil Rights movement.

I must, of course, say a few words about Spacey’s performance. It was an absolute barnstormer. I knew a lawyer in New York, who was originally from Virginia and certainly retained the accent, and who would routinely sway juries by saying that he was just a “simple country lawyer.” Spacey had some of this quality of deceptive simplicity, and used it to great effect with the audience.

Striding back and forth, haranguing us like we were a jury, he brought these long-dead cases to vivid, vibrant life. He addressed chairs as though they had people in them (his wife, his clients), which was a surprisingly effective technique. He also used people in the audience to illustrate his points, most memorably plunking down in the middle of an attractive group of young people to demonstrate his belief in “free love.” (I, apparently, have the look of a Presbyterian.) We were supposed to meet him afterwards, but he did not stay long. It did not matter; he had given us everything on stage.  A truly stunning evening. Do catch it if you can.