Arthur Miller’s “The Crucible” at the Walter Kerr Theater, Broadway - Full Recap

cadavreexquis:

[This post may contain spoilers about the plot and the production of Ivo van Hove’s revival of “The Crucible” on Broadway. Currently in previews, opening 31st March. I saw the play’s evening performance on 10th March, second row.]

A pivotal, particularly devastating scene in Ivo van Hove’s revival of “The Crucible” comes when the young Mary Warren (Tavi Gevinson), servant girl to John (Ben Whishaw) and Elizabeth Proctor (Sophie Okonedo), succumbs to the multiple pressures being exerted on her and joins her “possessed” peers to accuse Proctor of being the Devil’s man. With Mary cracked, all hope for truth and justice is gone. The set comes apart. Things crash down from above. Light, wind and debris roars through the windows. You fear the Devil truly has come to Salem.

A huge flurry of purple feathers formed part of the debris that blew onto the set during the scene. When the play ended, my partner snagged one for me to keep as a memento. The feather has become oddly symbolic of the whole experience.

Since the start of 2016 I’ve been to see probably close to a dozen plays but “The Crucible” on Broadway was always going to be a huge highlight of my theatre-traipsing year.

What I didn’t expect was how keenly I would feel, afterwards, the melancholy ephemerality of seeing a play.

Think about it: theatre is one of the few remaining experiences of modern life that is, for the most part, completely fleeting. Mostly unrecorded, mostly experienced only once. Nothing makes you so acutely aware of your flimsy powers of observation and retention.

I had been looking forward to seeing Ben Whishaw as John Proctor since I bought the tickets in December. It would be my first time seeing my favourite (though more on that later) actor on stage, after I foolishly let “Bakkhai” pass me by last year. Then the evening came and went, in all its intensity, and promptly began seeping out of my head. Inflections, gestures, details of the set. The deeply affecting, harrowing final scene. All fizzing out and disappearing. For the next 24 hours I was a mental mess.

I’m scribbling this post now knowing it will not come anywhere close to being an adequate record of having been there. I’m going to try anyway. I’m going to chunk it out into sensible parts.

A long recap follows. I’ll add sections to it as I find time.

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