by Arthur Miller
seen at the Walter Kerr Theatre, New York, on 25 May 2016
Directed by Ivo van Hove, with an original score by Philip Glass, the production features Ben Whishaw as John Proctor, Sophie Okonedo as Elizabeth Proctor, Saoirse Ronan as Abigail Williams, Bill Camp as Reverend John Hale and Ciarán Hinds as Deputy Governor Danforth.
The play, a presentation of the 17th century Salem witch trials widely seen as a criticism of the McCarthy-era prosecutions of communists, is here set in a fairly modern schoolroom with neon lights, which serves for all the settings specified by Miller's text (set and lights by Jan Versweyweld). The actors are dressed in old-fashioned but recognisably contemporary clothes, which interestingly serves to underscore the early modern formality of their speech patterns.
There are typical van Hove directorial touches, such as the intense silences and dramatic mannerisms which are used to emphasise the growing irrationality of the situation. The almost animal nature of the brief liaison between John Proctor and Abigail (which precedes the opening of the play) is portrayed by their both crawling around the stage in the brief scene in which Abigail makes an attempt to revive Proctor's interest in her. But the movements are echoed by Proctor whenever he is in a desperate state - when insisting that Mary Warren should denounce the other girls just after his wife has agreed to go to the prison, and again at the final crisis when he refuses to have his signed 'confession' made public. These echoes and correspondences make the already powerful trajectory of the play even more emotionally strong.
The use of pulsing and uneasy music is another feature of van Hove's style, and here Philip Glass was commissioned to compose a score. I am not sure it was entirely successful, as at times it was too intrusive. The idea worked brilliantly in 'A View from the Bridge' (see the review from March 2015) and worked best here when a girls' song permeated a scene; but the purely instrumental music had less integral justification and so pointed up the emotional significance of the scene with too little subtlety.
The use of pulsing and uneasy music is another feature of van Hove's style, and here Philip Glass was commissioned to compose a score. I am not sure it was entirely successful, as at times it was too intrusive. The idea worked brilliantly in 'A View from the Bridge' (see the review from March 2015) and worked best here when a girls' song permeated a scene; but the purely instrumental music had less integral justification and so pointed up the emotional significance of the scene with too little subtlety.
The sense of a community in crisis was well conveyed by the whole cast; it is quite noticeable how many minor characters there are in this play compared to the fashion for smaller chamber pieces these days; but the different groups are essential to filling out the wider scene, and showing that the witch scare grows out of the insecurities and petty jealousies of a small community.
Ben Whishaw's John Proctor was a man with deep passions and a sure sense of the worth of his own judgement, even when this can set him at odds with the often stultifying requirement to conform. At the extremity of the threat to his life he weakens momentarily, but then finds the strength to re-assert his integrity. It was a powerful and moving portrayal, ably supported by Sophie Okenado as his wife Elizabeth. Their relationship showed more emotion than is often the case, which was an interesting twist considering that there is considerable tension between them over the question of her 'coldness' towards him, and how much this contributed to his fateful dalliance with Abigail. It was salutary to be reminded that marital discord can arise between two passionate but perhaps mismatched people as much as between a couple where one has little or no passion at all.
Saoirse Ronan's Abigail was a chilling revelation of a young woman finding the destructive power to rebel and to manipulate a situation to her advantage. Rebuffed by John she becomes implacable, and the rising panic in the community plays right into her hands until she even outfaces the frighteningly self-confident Deputy Governor. No wonder that the bevy of girls falls under her sway and that the hapless Mary Warren (Tavi Gevenson) has not the strength to withstand her.
Startling effects, such as the animal-like prowling of some of the characters already mentioned, and a great wind of destruction evoked when Abigail accuses Mary Warren and they in turn accuse John in the court scene, served well to underline the scale of the madness as it escalated, but also to show how it was grounded in the nature of the society. But in the end, the stark choice that John Proctor faces, and the weary but proud acceptance of his wife, remain as a small symbol of hope amidst the judicial carnage wrought at Salem.
Ben Whishaw's John Proctor was a man with deep passions and a sure sense of the worth of his own judgement, even when this can set him at odds with the often stultifying requirement to conform. At the extremity of the threat to his life he weakens momentarily, but then finds the strength to re-assert his integrity. It was a powerful and moving portrayal, ably supported by Sophie Okenado as his wife Elizabeth. Their relationship showed more emotion than is often the case, which was an interesting twist considering that there is considerable tension between them over the question of her 'coldness' towards him, and how much this contributed to his fateful dalliance with Abigail. It was salutary to be reminded that marital discord can arise between two passionate but perhaps mismatched people as much as between a couple where one has little or no passion at all.
Saoirse Ronan's Abigail was a chilling revelation of a young woman finding the destructive power to rebel and to manipulate a situation to her advantage. Rebuffed by John she becomes implacable, and the rising panic in the community plays right into her hands until she even outfaces the frighteningly self-confident Deputy Governor. No wonder that the bevy of girls falls under her sway and that the hapless Mary Warren (Tavi Gevenson) has not the strength to withstand her.
Startling effects, such as the animal-like prowling of some of the characters already mentioned, and a great wind of destruction evoked when Abigail accuses Mary Warren and they in turn accuse John in the court scene, served well to underline the scale of the madness as it escalated, but also to show how it was grounded in the nature of the society. But in the end, the stark choice that John Proctor faces, and the weary but proud acceptance of his wife, remain as a small symbol of hope amidst the judicial carnage wrought at Salem.
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