THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
Arthur Miller's The Crucible, directed by The National Theatre's Lyndsey Turner, premiered at the Gielgud Theatre to a captivated and beguiled audience. The play follows the atrocious, nightmarish 1692 witch hunt in Salem, Massachusetts manufactured by teenage girls swearing in the name of God that they were possessed by the devil. Poor economic times, power heavy government and the church's preeminence led the girls to assert themselves with insinuation leading to hysteria and ultimately execution.
This is the right time to bring The Crucible back to the stage as in some ways the ghastly events seem to parallel today's social media pack mentality and its ability to destroy a reputation merely through accusation and judgment.
Catherine Fay's costuming features the girls in innocent soft pink dresses with Peter Pan collars and braided hair. The precocious antagonist Abigail Williams, played by Milly Alcock, draws you in with exceptional authenticity. She's featured in a green dress symbolizing envy, perhaps a motivator for all the bloodthirstiness.
The highly crafted but minimal stage is intimate, eerie and ethereal and you feel as if you are closely eavesdropping on the village's dirty deeds. As you watch you are drawn in to consider your own morality and judgments, which makes the theatrical experience internal and personal.
First performed in 1953, it is said that Arthur Miller wrote The Crucible in response to the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) created by McCarthy in 1938 to investigate alleged rebel activities and people suspected of having Communist ties who were then tried in a court of law. Just as Miller refused to comply by “outing” people, John Proctor stands his moral ground firmly. A magnificently compelling performance by a perfectly cast Brian Gleeson shows range and stage presence, he is one to watch in future (and is a handsome snack at that).
The play is complex and nuanced capturing the audience (on my night they sat polarized, barely breathing, with little movement and virtually no coughing). It is a thinking story. The characters exercise schadenfreude (pleasure derived by someone from another person's misfortune) and just as people indulge in watching a scary movie, it is an oddly rewarding pleasure. When art is masterfully executed, it enraptures and engages and The Crucible provides.
