
What is the price of a man’s soul? This production of Arthur Miller’s 1953 howl of outrage at a government that turns on its own is frighteningly relevant at this moment in our country’s ongoing history. It is impeccably produced from the set to the costumes to the lighting to the actors and knocks you breathless. And we learn the price of a man’s soul varies from person to person, and there is always a price to pay.
This is a must-see production. It is unsettling and haunting. You feel these people’s pain and fear and pettiness and struggles. Some will survive and some won’t, but it’s a journey you won’t forget.
Set in Salem, Massachusetts in 1692, the story of a series of accusations of witchcraft and the villagers’ responses is as timely as it was in the 1950s when it served as a stand-in for the excesses of the McCarthy era and the hysteria over communism.
The drama (in every sense of the word) was fueled by the village clergyman discovering several young girls and the slave Tituba dancing in the woods, and perhaps attempting to conjure spirits from the dead. Given the severe punishments awaiting them, the girls panicked and accused other inhabitants of Salem of practicing witchcraft. As the number of arrests increased, so did the distrust within the community. Others in the community also used the occasion to accuse those they had grudges against. By the end of 1692, the Salem court had convicted and executed nineteen men and women.
One thing this production brings out very well is how much in the forefront of people’s lives their religion was. Their fears for the mortal souls are palpable, as is their terror of hell. When one of the younger girls, Mary Warren, who is a servant in the Proctor household, tries to recant her lies, her fear of not being right with God is pitiable and overwhelming. Ada Donohue imbues Mary Warren with the innocence of a young girl who doesn’t really understand the consequences of her actions. She just doesn’t want to get into trouble, and given the position of females, her fear is well-founded.
This is a very large cast (26 in total), and the cast is superb. Christopher Fleming as John Proctor and Heather Wetherald as his wife Elizabeth, give chilling portrayals of a couple who are somewhat isolated and at war with each other over his dalliance with the Reverand Samuel Parris’s (Larry Daniele) niece, Abigail Williams (Kate Taylor), when she was a servant in his household. She was dismissed from service and the rumors flew. While neither Elizabeth nor John ever said why she was dismissed and “put out on the road” the neighbors were all too happy to speculate. She is totally dependent on her uncle, as he reminds her, for even the clothes on her back, and she leads the accusations to save her life.
Daniele does very solid work as a former businessman turned clergyman who is obsessed with his reputation and being given respect. His toadying ways even rile Deputy-Governor Danforth (a fanatical Randy Tusing) who has come to the village to oversee the cleansing.
As Reverend John Hale, Matt Jones gives an achingly realistic portrayal of a man of God who believes in witchcraft, but come to see that there is really little proof and other motives abound. He tries to persuade the accused to confess to the charges and to be spared their lives, desperate to prevent more lives from being lost.
Keith Linville plays Thomas Putnam, one of the richest men in town, who seizes on the events (sparked in part by his wife Ann’s agony over losing seven infants before one survived) to buy the holdings of the accused and add to his wealth. He never descends into the accusations, but waits and seizes—it is a strong performance.
Brenna Prestidge as Ann Putnam does a masterful job of evoking pity as well as repugnance. Her pain over the continuous loss of her children shortly after childbirth consumes her; as a result, she accuses Rebecca Nurse, a midwife. You feel for her desperation even as you are repulsed by her single-minded fury.
As Rebecca Nurse, Kim Moore Bessler is only on the stage for a little while in the first and final acts, but her portrayal is incisive and memorable. She will not lie to save her life, and her pity toward Ann Putnam transcends forgiveness. It is a clear-sighted portrayal of a brave woman who knows she is going to die and makes her peace with it.
Other production values are just as carefully thought out as the acting. The costumes, by Melody Sciarratta and Pat Brennan, are glorious. They are plain, but beautifully tailored and convey the station of each character. The lighting design by Allison Claggett evokes the changing days and the candle-lit interiors of the houses and courthouse and jail. The lighting lends weight to the fear these people live in—they are in a new land surrounded by woods and mountains and wary indigenous peoples, and their words and behavior is constantly policed in a theocratic society.
One particularly standout moment came when Mary Warren tries to recant, John Proctor accuses Abigail Williams of being a whore, and as the entire room draws away from her (evidently, adultery was worse than witchcraft), she turns on Mary and goes into a fit. In an incredibly choreographed scene, the other girls move as one and surround Mary in a screaming, jittering, finger-pointing frenzy. It was overwhelming and as Mary collapses onto the floor, you see Abigail’s calculation pay off; she is a formidable young woman and at that moment utterly merciless and triumphant.
This is a long show, but worth it. Director Brian Donohue keeps the pace brisk and even the scene changes are performed like clockwork. He has drawn gut-wrenching performances from this cast. It’s relevance to today’s divisiveness in the social and political spheres resonates.
This is a must-see production. It is unsettling and haunting. You feel these people’s pain and fear and pettiness and struggles. Some will survive and some won’t, but it’s a journey you won’t forget.
Advisory: Mature themes.
Running Time: Three house with a 15-minute intermission.
“The Crucible” runs through October 6, 2019 at Port Tobacco Players, La Plata, MD. For more information, please click here.