Excelling in pretty much every aspect of theatrical performance, this revival of Scottish Ballet’s 2019 adaptation of Arthur Miller’s iconic play is a cast-iron cross-over hit full of exquisite movement, sublime sound, theatrical storytelling, ethereal lighting and brilliant set design, magical, darkly complex and supernaturally good.
I say cross-over because this does not feel, or indeed sound like any ballet I have ever witnessed before. There is so much modern dance and passionate movement mixed in here with storytelling and set to a scintillating modern score by Peter Salem it feels like something completely new, different and exciting.
The giant stage of The Festival Theatre can be daunting, some productions just get swallowed up here. But not this one. In Emma Kingsbury and David Finn’s beautifully severe design the vastness is embraced and every inch put to urgent use. The stage is bare, but above it a giant welded steel frame hangs tenuously, it’s faces clad in tight white fabric, with a cross cut fully out of its centre. This enormous square canopy is manipulated silently by an ingenious series of pulleys and cables, turning it flat, tilted or vertical, depending on the scene. In the flat configuration, it appears like a crushing and claustrophobic force with Gauze dropping unexpectedly from it to create split scenes. Tilted at 45 degrees, elongated and distorted shadows of dancers are cast eerily across its surface, wonderfully recreating the candlelit bleakness of dark Salem nights. Bare to the point of austere with side or ceiling spots used sparingly to cast long shadows this is a black and white world of the accused and the accusers, the damned and the holy, the outcast and the puritan. Kingsbury’s stylised but recognisable period costumes are the only device which sets the story firmly in time.
It starts as a simple enough tale (a timeless one) of ordinary man, John Proctor (Bruno Micchiardi), who’s head is turned by housemaid Abigail (Kayla-Maree-Tarantolo). When their illicit tryst is discovered by wife Elizabeth (Jessica Fyfe) all hell breaks loose, but John convinces his wife to forgive him. When Abigail is spurned, she and her girlfriends sets out to reek their revenge by accusing, first the weak and vulnerable of the town of Salem, but finally John’s wife of witchcraft. Set in 16th Century puritanical America the men of God descend on Salem to conduct a witch trial and sentence the witches to death. In the end John must decide whether he should name and condemn others to save himself and his wife or keep his name and seal his fate.
The sexual chemistry between Micchiardi and Tarantolo fizzes off the stage, as does the love and tenderness of the reconciliation dance between husband and wife. One image that cannot leave me is the remarkable lift by Micciardi of Fyfe where she is propelled above his head one handed, arched back like a cheese curl. Extraordinary power and flexibility by both.
Special mention however should go to Thomas Edwards’ Danforth, who enters the fray as the deputy governor of Massachusetts, leading the hearings of the witch trials at the top of the second act. His performance, a spinning top of eccentric energy and staccato movements simply takes the breath away. And his performance only seems to get more energised as the second act heads towards its inevitable magnificent conclusion.
Perhaps this is what happens when you have six years to think about and refine a product that was already very good. Choreographer, Helen Pickett, has created something really magical here and it is not to be missed.
Reviewer: Greg Holstead
Reviewed: 1st May 2025
North West End UK Rating:
Running Time – 1 hr 45 mins (with interval)