Arthur Miller wrote 'The Crucible', a tragedy about the Salem witch trials of the late seventeenth century, in 1953 as an allegory for the mania of McCarthyism that had inflamed contemporary American society; in today’s world of terrorism and ISIS, the deceptive power of religious extremism seems to haunt the play more fearfully than ever, as the Devil dons his holiest disguise. The second epistle to the Corinthians tells us that ‘Satan disguises himself as an angel of light'. It is nothing extraordinary, then, when his servants disguise themselves as the servants of uprightness’ (NJB). It is something terrifying, however, when these servants appear as young girls, pricked by uncontrollable desire and mass hysteria.
At the heart of this mania, rage Abigail Williams, who was played astonishingly by Celia Wells (G), and Salem’s coven of corrupted youth, portrayed with disturbing conviction by Emma Loubser (L), Lydia Vaughan (P), Olivia Humphreys (F), and Amy Warner-Allen (D). When the play opens, one of their number has fallen ill and as accusations of witchcraft begin to fly, Abigail decides to stoke the flames of suspicion, in an attempt to clear her own name and to regain her lost lover, John Proctor. Morgan Davies’ (D) performance of this role – a noble man, who rails against the injustices wrought by society – was powerful and heart-rending, while Darcy Paver (S) was loving and stoic as his wronged wife.
As Miller’s plot hurtles towards the ninth circle of Hell, evoked effectively here by the atmospheric lighting and stage projections, the boundaries between good and evil melt in the rising fires. The most grotesque embodiment of the consequent hypocrisy is Deputy-Governor Danforth, who was played demonically by Sergey Sudakov (g), cloaked darkly in the robes of justice. Harsh and indiscriminate suffering ensues, which Robert Crockford (D) and Sophia Lancaster (W) – both debutants in the Ben Travers Theatre – captured poignantly in their sympathetic portrayals of the naïve Giles Corey and revered Rebecca Nurse. Amidst this madness, The Reverend John Hale, conveyed masterfully in all his anguish and confusion by Will Davies (B), relentlessly pursues the truth, but his discoveries fall inevitably on deaf ears…
Mr Freeman’s (Director of Drama) direction of this impressive cast, alongside the simple but stunning set and music, resulted in a production that devastatingly evoked the fear and pity, which Aristotle saw at the centre of all true tragedy.
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Review by: Charlie Sparrow
(Teacher of English and Classics)
Photographs by: Roger Smeeton
(Teacher of Music)