Howden Park Centre, Livingston, and touring 2006

Howden Park Centre, Livingston, and touring 2006

THE THING they always teach you at school about Arthur Miller’s witch-hunting tragedy is that it was written as a metaphor for Senator McCarthy’s communist-baiting House Un-American Activities Committee of the early-1950s. It’s an allegory that makes perfect sense, but put that thought aside and you see that, over half-a-century after it was written, ‘The Crucible’ is much more fluid in its application.

The girls who find themselves the centre of attention because of the stories they spread about devilish visitations are like the fame-seeking egotists of reality TV. The adults who are only too willing to believe them are like the credulous conveyors of internet conspiracy theories.

And John Proctor, the figure of moral strength who refuses to be swept away in the tide of hysteria, is like the rare voice of reason who stands up to today’s war-mongers and religious fundamentalists carried away with their own blind beliefs.

‘The Crucible’ works, in other words, because of its understanding of human behaviour, the timeless traits that lead some of us to stand firm, others to acquiesce in the face of weighty social pressure. It’s about the slipperiness of a legal system based on hunch not evidence, on leading questions not straight facts, and the difficulty of ever being certain of the truth.

Today we may laugh at anyone believing in witchcraft, yet we’re all too ready to accept that Princess Diana’s death was murder and Neil Armstrong never walked on the moon.

For these reasons and for its compelling dramatic arc, Miller’s play makes for a gripping evening in the theatre even when staged as disappointingly as it is here in this TAG and National Theatre of Scotland collaboration.

It’s tempting to say the problem lies in the decision to supplement the cast of professional actors with a dozen local people from each of the five towns the show is visiting. But although it’s true that the professionals seem uneasy with the amateurs and that the performance is uneven because of the mix, it’s as much a question of the poor use made of what should be a tremendously enhanced resource.

Set in Salem, 1692, ‘The Crucible’ is a vision of a whole society torn apart by allegations of witchcraft. With such a large cast, director Guy Hollands has the chance to give us a sense of that society in all its variety, but he treats the actors too tentatively to create a real feeling of community. Moley Campbell’s simple platform set is not the biggest stage in the world, but there’s no reason it should make the performers – amateur and professional alike – seem so awkwardly placed.

The play has too much momentum to be knocked off track, but it would be more forceful still if the performances were better reined-in. Owen Gorman as John Proctor, the moral centre of the play, is inclined to bellow where restraint may serve him better. His anger and short-fuse are creditably human but make him less sympathetic at the play’s tragic end.

Had Hollands shaped a production less inclined to the explosive, more sensitive to the delicate arguments of Miller’s play, he’d have packed more emotional punch into an ever-forceful tragedy.

(The Crucible can be seen at the Universal Hall, Findhorn, from 27-29 April 2006)

© Mark Fisher, 2006