Arthur Miller’s The Crucible has a rare quality of being ubiquitous, but consistently relevant, provocative and timely. There’s always a witch hunt somewhere. Medieval villagers with pitchforks have evolved into middle aged idiots on Facebook. Or mob-giddy kids on TikTok. Theocracies continue to thrive, and the oppression in those places can make The Crucible seem tame. I’m looking at you; Yemen, Afghanistan, The Vatican, Saudi Arabia and Iran.
Arthur Miller was famously a victim of McCarthy era ‘Reds under the Bed’ paranoia. The playwright was questioned by the House of Representatives’ Committee on Un-American Activities in 1956 and convicted of contempt of Congress for refusing to identify others present at meetings he had attended. His play is more than just an allegorical spin on America’s fear of socialist ideas and Communist regimes, its actual focus is wider and deeper.
17th century Salem was a town where fear was used as a political weapon, where external threats were invented to explain anxieties, where scapegoats were identified, hunted down and judged, and where truth had no validity. Sound familiar? Miller was on the money. Then, and now.
It’s a wordy, detailed and lengthy text, so it’s impressive that Scottish Ballet has distilled the atmosphere and narrative into a dance spectacular that interprets the action while maintaining Miller’s themes. Having said that, one wouldn’t want to come to this production cold, especially when bonnets and holy robes can make individual characters harder to identify. A vague recollection of English Lit lessons should be enough to keep one in the loop. The beauty of ballet is that aesthetics and Olympic physicality can transcend the yearning for plot and dialogue.
Peter Salem’s score is haunting and masterful. While there are elements of 17th century vibes and the sounds of natural phenomena, it’s modern, sparse and evocative. In a scene when the young girls get naked and go wild in the forest, the fevered reverie is soundtracked with pulsing electronica. Seeing (and hearing) a live orchestra, working in perfect symbiosis with the dancers was a thrill and a wonder.
The affair between John Proctor (Nicholas Shoesmith) and Abigail, his servant girl (Constance Devernay) is only referred to in Miller’s original text. It’s unseen, as well as unseemly. Choreographer, Helen Picket has taken that obscured romp and created a dramatic, erotic duo that’s at the core of the story. In creating a scene that Miller kept offstage, the character of Abigail, often seen as a unhinged home wrecker is both a vulnerable girl and a giddy optimist with a crush.
This production brings nuance, ingenuity and fresh perspectives to a very familiar play. Miller’s concerns are even more urgent in 2022 than when he wrote it in 1953. Without a word of dialogue, Scottish Ballet have remixed, expanded and updated The Crucible with chilling and beautiful efficiency. One might almost call it witchcraft.
Reviewer: Stewart Who?
Reviewed: 14th June 2022
North West End UK Rating: ★★★★★