THEATRE REVIEW

As a cautionary tale, it’s astounding how relevant The Crucible remains to this day.

With the shadow of McCarthyism stretching some half a century into the past, Miller’s play might equally serve as an allegory for today’s ‘War on Terror', or, still closer to home, the recent witch hunt involving Bill Henson.

In 1682, Salem, Massachusetts lies at the mercy of a group of local girls led by Abigail Williams (Tori Hartigan), who, claiming to be guided by God’s own hand, point out the various witches and devil worshippers plaguing their community.

For those accused, the only way to escape the gallows is to confess all and ‘name names’. Soon half the town has been arrested. It’s only a matter of time before John Proctor’s wife, Elizabeth, falls under suspicion, given that Abigail wants Proctor for herself...

For me, this New Theatre production was very much a play of two halves.

During the first half, I was somewhat distracted by the cast’s mix of British accents, some of which had a tendency to slip, and the action on stage at times seemed a little static.

After the intermission, however, the production came into its own. Of particular note were Ben Brock and Belinda Gosbee as John and Elizabeth Proctor. Their final scene together was both deeply layered and intensely moving. As their eyes met across the stage, the space between them itself became a crucible of complex, unspoken emotions. When Brock shouts,

"I have given you my soul; leave me my name!", the lump in my throat was like a noose around it.

And so I, too, shall name names: Frank McNamara as Judge Danworth and Anthony Weir as Reverend Parris are certainly worthy of special mention; likewise, making the most of a smaller role, is Sandy Kerr as Tituba.

Heading the list must be director Louise Fischer, for bringing such a difficult and iconic play to life.

The Crucible is inherently allegorical, but the great achievement of this New Theatre production is that it transports the audience back into its own time, its own dramatic reality.

In seventeenth-century Salem, McCarthyism is the stuff of science fiction and Bill Henson is no more than a gleam in his great-great-great-great… grandfather’s eye.

When a piece of theatre makes you forget when and where you are like that, it’s not to be missed.

Season 13 August – 6 September
Times Tuesday at 6:30pm, Wednesday and Thursday at 10.30am, Thursday – Saturday at 7.30
Tickets $34 full, $25 concession, $22 tight arse Tuesdays, $20 school groups
Bookings 02 9351 7940 / www.seymourcentre.com.au