Arthur Miller’s historical classic lands on the West End with the return of the National Theatre’s revival production. Guillermo Nazara shares his thoughts on this haunting play dealing with the powers of deception and fanaticism, to let us know if this actually is one hell of a show.
Never before has Satan been closer. Or more real. It’s just his name that has changed. We like to convince ourselves that we are better now – that we’ve evolved, and outgrown the times when witches were sent to the gallows. But we’re still pretty much the same… Surely those thoughts inundated Arthur Miller’s mind when he considered going through the old records of a little town from Massachusetts, and adapting them into the modern classic that would secure his reputation for decades to come.
Written and first performed during the mid 50s, the piece was conceived amidst the Anti-American paranoia that terrorized the country during one of the most volatile periods of the Cold War. Presented as an allegory about the irrationality of mass hysteria, the play recounts the real events that haunted Salem in the last years of the 17th century – wisely reflecting upon the absurdity’s of people’s behaviour when blinded by their convictions of a greater good.
By then, sorcery. In Miller’s time, communism. And now, cancel culture. The core concept of this work is as ageless as its plot: history repeats itself, no matter what. And the most irrational conclusions can be regarded as fair and sage when inspected through the eyes of fear. Miller’s exquisite narrative skills and incredibly powerful dialogue (plain and common, yet remarkably philosophical) make of this tale more than just a fictionalized account on a shockingly true story, but a stirring cautionary tale on how easily those characters could become mirror images of ourselves.
A tale of betrayal and exploitation of society’s beliefs for own personal advantage, the script drives the action forward at an exceptionally well-crafted rhythm – cunningly injecting us, little by little, with the same aura of concern and mistrust the villagers are infected by. An eerie yet luring atmosphere that’s nothing by elevated through Lyndsey Turner’s (director) excellent production. Relying on a minimal yet highly evocative design by Es Devlin, the use of a pretended black box (the stage, actually surrounded by simulated piles of charcoal and rubble) accentuates the uncanny vibe that both plot and setting are meant to bring on.
Displaying an actual waterfall as their curtain, a sharp way to immerse us into the bleakness of its universe, the show successfully manages to bring the dark times of Salem back to life – constantly prompting the sensation of us serving as an extended jury on the mayhem the town is being crushed under. This is also heightened by Tim Lutkin’s extremely effective lightning, creating an aura that underlines both emotion and ambiance, and compellingly transporting us into the turmoil of the show’s general tone.
A similar praise goes to a great deal of its cast – in particular, the older roles. Counting on a more than experienced troupe, the greatest star is undoubtedly Brian Gleeson in the lead part of John Proctor, delivering such a touching and expressive rendition that’s fairly impossible to ignore. On the other hand, Henry Everett comes through as Judge Hathorne, for his superb portrayal of the character’s mischievous (even psychopathic) yet somehow self-determined traits. The only flaw, however, stems from the young female company (the alleged witches), as their acting usually fails to convince – more than often, giving the sensation that the lines are slightly more recited than truly interpreted.
Double, double, toil and trouble… The word of a witch is an omen for mischief – even in the theatre… But we may be facing its the rare exception, because the good fate of this piece is as well preserved as its immortality. It will always have significance, as its meaning stands for what we always were and always will be. Gripping, entertaining and disturbingly profound, it wouldn’t be heretic to say that its immaculate brilliance almost resembles the work of the Devil.
All pictures credit to Brinkhoff Moegenburg.
The Crucible plays at London’s Gielgud Theatre until 2 September. Tickets are available on the following link.