The Crucible, Theatre, New York — review

Max McGuinness

I approached this production of with some trepidation. , perhaps the most lauded theatre practitioner working today, directs the incomparable in her stage debut alongside such seasoned luminaries as Ben Whishaw, , Ciarán Hinds and . Philip Glass has written the music.

This risks being a theatrical Agincourt, I thought. All that heavy cavalry will surely end up crashing into each other and getting bogged down in Arthur Miller’s dense and passionate play about the 1692-93 Salem witch trials. But van Hove has once again pulled off an inspired reimagining of a theatrical classic, which takes a little time to find its rhythm during the first scene, but then canters briskly along throughout the final two hours.

That steady pacing reflects van Hove’s decision to treat the work like a diabolical police procedural. Accusations, interrogations and paperwork are what drive his Crucible towards its grim conclusion. As Deputy Governor Danforth, Hinds dominates the second half, delivering a flawless study of prosecutorial zeal in the service of fanaticism. Surreal flourishes, such as Tal Yarden’s bird-themed video sequences and a marauding wolf-like Tamaskan dog, keep witchery itself firmly in mind.

Whishaw and Okonedo play the doomed John and Elizabeth Proctor with the right mixture of exasperation and defiance. As their nemesis Abigail Williams, Ronan adds a demonic edge to her usual effortless magnetism and is an entirely plausible conduit for mass hysteria. More impressive still is ’s interpretation of the wavering servant Mary Warren. Gevinson initially invests the role with remarkable pluck, which makes her ultimate betrayal particularly affecting. More even than the Proctors, Warren represents the ordinary human heart of this production — one that inevitably crumples when subjected to enough manipulative pressure.

The play itself no longer feels quite as urgent as it must have done when first performed at the height of the McCarthyite witch-hunts in 1953. But The Crucible remains a powerful allegory about the temptations of groupthink and how little protection the law can provide when it falls into the wrong hands.