Arthur Miller’s powerful allegory remains as forceful today as when it was written in this gripping, atmospheric revival
The dark oppressiveness of 17th century Salem is conveyed the moment you step into the auditorium for the National Theatre’s revival of Arthur Miller’s classic play The Crucible. On all three sides of the Olivier’s stage, a curtain of water pours in a continuous, heavy stream. On and on it flows, evoking a damp, dank, earthy feel of ancient rural life, where tradition – and superstition – can take hold and spread like a disease. And what a disease it is that takes hold of this small New England town, where an unknown affliction that seizes a small circle of girls quickly transforms into a devastating witch-hunt leading to mass imprisonment and hangings.
Lyndsey Turner’s powerful production winds us stealthily into a claustrophobic world where truth is nudged a little further from reality in every scene. Erin Doherty (Princess Anne in The Crown) is the jagged Abigail Williams, twitchy as an irritated wasp that will sting anyone who goes near and who pursues her former lover John Proctor with the zeal of an obsessed groupie.
With his dishevelled appearance and plodding gait, Brendan Cowell’s Proctor appears at first an unlikely object of desire. He seems rooted in the soil he ploughs and heavy with responsibility (and guilt) – the antithesis of Williams and her grotesque flights of fantasy. Doherty is a commanding presence, but if some of her nervy energy had been more slowly released the tension might have been ramped up even more by the melodramatic finale. As it is, we never really see Williams develop over the course of the play. The same can’t be said for Reverend Hale, whose character, in the hands of Fisayo Akinade, comes fully to the fore in this production, as we witness his painful realisation that he has spoken out too little and too late.
The intense atmosphere is fuelled by Es Devlin’s spare and striking set, which intermittently spotlights a backdrop made up of town girls who observe in sinister silence as the events unfold. A chilling choral accompaniment sung by the cast weaves in and out of the action.
Some reviews have been critical of the way Turner has stuck fairly faithfully to the play's original historical context, but there is simply no need to 'modernise' or reinterpret Miller’s powerful work, which was itself written at the height of America’s McCarthy-era hysteria. Authoritarianism, herd mentality, fake truth, populism – it’s all here with bells on and every scene peals out a prescient cry for integrity, tolerance and courage.
By Rebecca Taylor
Photos by Johan Persson
The Crucible runs until Saturday 5 November. 7.30pm, 2pm (Wed & Sat only). £20-£89. The National Theatre, SE1 9PX. nationaltheatre.org.uk