It’s doubtful that the current Republican nominee for president has ever attended a production of The Crucible by Arthur Miller. (And if he has, he was probably texting throughout the proceedings.)
But if he just sat and listened, he might have realized where his favorite word “witch-hunt” came from. It became a cliché after Miller’s play opened in 1953.
The gripping drama is set in the 1690s, a dark time in Salem, Massachusetts, where more than 200 innocent people (mostly women) were hauled into court and accused of practicing witchcraft. Twenty were executed.
As a metaphor for civic hysteria, the script can’t be topped. And this production by the Blank Canvas Theatre is a solid if not inspired rendition of that iconic material
Miller wrote the play as an allegory to the Army-McCarthy Hearings, in progress in the early 1950s, that accused large numbers of federal employees, Hollywood personalities and university professors of being communists and Soviet infiltrators. Many of the accused lost their jobs and livelihoods.
The entire imbroglio was created by Sen. Joseph McCarthy. He accomplished his carnage with the help of his young legal counsel, the sneering and detestable Roy Cohn (who decades later would become an advisor to the above-mentioned nominee).
In the play, a group of women ranging in age from 71 to four years old (!) are incarcerated for practicing the “devil’s magic,” which refers initially to a group of young females dancing in the woods after dark.
The gaggle of teenagers is led by Abigail Williams (a spiky Jillian Mesaros), who is possessed of nothing more than an active imagination and an interest in the witchcraft-y art of casting spells. That leads her to accuse others of the “crime” she is committing herself. (Sound familiar, Donald?)
The accusations grow exponentially from there, but playwright Miller brings the story down to a personal level by focusing on several key individuals. These include John Proctor (Patrick Ciamacco, also the play’s director) and his wife Elizabeth (Katie Wells). They are an innocent and hardworking couple tormented by Abby, her girl posse, and their religious supporters including Reverend Samuel Parris (Brian McNally) and Reverend John Hale (Scott Esposito).
Excellent performances are turned in by McNally and Esposito, who each embody the tragedy of religious people who have allowed themselves to be held captive by a perverted sense of morality and justice. Even though some of Esposito’s lines get unintended chuckles, the meanness underneath his well-scrubbed exterior comes through.
But the heart of the play resides in the accused women. As Elizabeth Proctor, Wells nicely underplays her role allowing us to feel the confusion and desperation she feels. And that sense is amplified by Vanessa McCaffrey as the elderly Rebecca Nurse, a quiet voice of reason even as her life is taken from her.
In the central role of John Proctor, the superb actor and director Ciamacco seems oddly muted early on and a bit distant from Elizabeth. This makes his confrontation with the preening prosecutor Deputy Governor Danforth (played with solemn arrogance by Michael Glavan) less electrifying than it might be.
Still, the horror of paranoia run amok comes through in this production. And it is worthwhile to note that what happened in Salem more than 300 years ago is being used as a blueprint for some in this political season. The current witch-hunt targets teachers and professors, librarians, people of color, immigrants, progressives and, of course, the LGBTQ community.
We will soon see if our country wants to go back to those bad old days when innocent U.S. citizens on trial in a court of law were given a choice: Either confess to their nonexistent sins and live in shame or be found guilty and die.
The Crucible
Through September 14 at Blank Canvas Theatre, 78th Street Studios, 1305 West 78th St., Suite 211, 440-941-0458, blankcanvastheatre.com
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This article appears in Aug 28 – Sep 10, 2024.
