A dusky evening at the Regent's Park Open Air theatre provides an ideal setting for The Crucible, Arthur Miller's dramatic evocation of the 17th century Salem witch-hunt trials. As the light fades, the stage grows progressively darker like the faces of the actors, paralleling the slide into darkness of this sinister story.
      The Puritans of Salem, Massachusetts are shocked when a group of the town's teenage girls are caught dancing in the woods and one of them falls into a coma. Rumours of witchcraft quickly turn to aggressive and sanctimonious accusations and, as the hysteria mounts, a full-blown witch-hunt ensues. Miller wrote the play in 1953 as an allegory for the McCarthy witch-hunts. Miller himself was to be questioned by the House of Representatives' Committee on Un-American Activities in 1956 and convicted of "contempt of Congress" for failing to identify others present at meetings he had attended.
      The readiness of the Salem villagers to reprimand each other without evidence, their sanctimony and intolerance clearly echoes the McCarthy era. Indeed the play has a timeless quality, Miller’s understanding of human nature, and the core subjects of the play - religious fundamentalism, public hysteria and the struggle for dignity in the face of persecution - are as pertinent now as they were in the 1700s and the 1950s.
      Much of the trouble chronicled in The Crucible is caused by merciless 17–year-old, Abigail Williams, who has indulged in an illicit affair with married man, John Proctor. She will stop at nothing to recapture his heart making this not just the story of 'the group', but one that lays equal weight on the moral integrity and responsibility of the individual.
      The character of Abigail can be interpreted in many ways - a childish brat or a conniving harlot. Here, Emily Taaffe pulls off the latter with boldness and conviction. She is provocative and dangerous and yet there are also moments when Taaffe subtly hints at Abigail's childish qualities, reminding us that she too is a victim of the corrupt society.
      Patrick O’Kane conveys John Proctor’s inner turmoil with vivacity, expressing both his rage and deep sorrow. His portrayal of Proctor's wild, independent spirit and sexuality dominate the stage. As events unfold, Philip Cumbus’ appalled Reverend Hale gives us a sense of the enormity of what is happening and the creeping realisation that things are going too far. To counter this, Oliver Ford Davies gives a commanding performance as the provincial deputy governor, preaching on morality and bullying his victims.
      The Crucible is a powerful and intriguing play. Director Timothy Sheader uses his cast well, particularly the band of girls (played by an impressive group of East 15 Acting School students). The scene of mock witchcraft - which requires them all to gyrate on the floor as if in a demonic fit – managed to be chilling rather than comic. Sheader emphasises the claustrophobic nature of the play by gathering them round the edge of the stage, disconcertingly still and watchful, greatly adding to the unease. Although some of the play's more subtle qualities are occasionally lost in the darkness and the momentum sometimes slows, Sheader and his cast successfully conjure the period, the social mentality and the trauma that unfolds, all culminating in a compelling and haunting final scene.
Florence Mackenzie