Last night was very, very special indeed. In fact it was quite incredible. I don’t read much these days, and know I should read much more. I used to really like reading, and as a teenager and young adult I was really into books. One of my all-time favourites was/is Harper Lee’s To Kill A Mockingbird. It was one of the books I studied for GCSE English Literature, and is the kind of book which stays with you: the characters Lee created are so vivid, the lessons she teaches are so strong, that a reader can’t help falling in love with the text. I, like many others, see To Kill A Mockingbird as an all-time classic, and one of the great works of twentieth century literature.

A couple of days ago, John messaged me over Facebook, suggesting that we go and watch the stage adaptation up in Soho. At first I was in two minds about it: it would mean re-arranging my Saturday night routine. Yet, after a bit of thought, it soon struck me as a good idea. After all, I can’t remember the last time I went to the theatre, and would make a nice change from my usual Saturday night in front of the TV. John also mentioned a scheme where Personal Assistants get cheaper tickets, which made it even more appealing.

Thanks to the Elisabeth Line, getting up into central London is now easier than ever: a short bus ride takes us to Woolwich, and within half an hour we were in the midst of a bustling metropolis on a Saturday night. I had forgotten how thrilling it was to be up there, with all the lights, noise and people. Yet the greatest moments were yet to come.

The Gielgud Theatre is just a short, easy walk from Tottenham Court Road Station. Getting there I was a bit worried about accessibility, but as usual we were shown in to the theatre through a side door. The theatre was grand and palatial, with three tiers of seats overlooking the stage. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I had been in such a space. I got out of my powerchair, took my seat, and the play soon began.

Quite a lot has been written about adapting books into plays. As with film adaptations, it isn’t straightforward: you are essentially translating a narrative from one artistic language into another, and there are many creative choices writers and directors have to make – choices which an audience may disagree with. Yet as soon as the performance began last night, I was transported back twenty-five years to Mr Dale’s English class at Woodford Lodge High School; as well as to Maycomb Alabama, around seventy years before that. It was truly, truly incredible: as soon as the character Scout, played by Anna Munden, appeared on stage, it felt like I had been reunited with a long lost friend who I hadn’t spoken to in many decades, but whose voice I remembered as vividly as the sound of birdsong.

The performance itself was incredible. After only one viewing, I don’t feel I can give a proper review, but I must say the direction, production and set design were immaculate. The theatre has quite a sophisticated stage which moves, which made scene changes almost seamless. More than that though, the performances the actors gave were jaw dropping. I have always sort of associated the figure of Atticus Finch with Gregory Peck, who famously played him in the 1962 film adaptation; yet to see Matthew Modine play him last night blew me and the rest of the audience away. Modine brought Atticus to life so that Maycomb’s only honourable man really felt like he was there, on the stage in central london. His performance was touching and nuanced, yet ultimately tragic: as good and noble a man as atticus was, as much as he saw the folly of prejudice, he didn’t understand how deeply those prejudices ran or how unshakable they were. That really came across in Modine’s performance last night, so that you really felt for this man, battling in vain against utterly repugnant forces.

Of course, similar plaudits could be awarded to the rest of the cast. I won’t go through their performances one by one, but as an ensemble they were magnificent, playing off one another as if they were family. A hell of a lot of effort had clearly been put into producing this show, and that dedication to performing a truly great, noble story – one which seeks to right the wrongs of an unjust world – really came across last night. It had been well over twenty years since I last read Lee’s book, but last night it came flooding back, reminding me why it was so special: Lee’s first person prose is so evocative of a time and place I had no experience of, that it made me half believe that I was actually there. To see that translated onto the stage, so that a theatre in Soho was actually transported to the American deep south for three hours on a Saturday evening, was truly remarkable.

My appetite for theatre has now been reignited. If I can just pop up into central London to watch a play like John and I did last night, what else can I do. And if they are that jaw-droppingly good, then surely I need to see more. Yet more than that, last night I watched the stage adaptation of a text which still means so much to me; characters I knew from my childhood brought vividly to life. Evenings like that really stick with you, and give joy and meaning to life.