Scottish Ballet’s The Crucible – A Haunting and Beautiful Production

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Review: Scottish Ballet – The Crucible – Edinburgh Festival Theatre

Scottish Ballet’s adaptation of Arthur Miller’s seminal play The Crucible has been captivating audiences at home and far away since debuting back in 2019. That’s quite a feat for an original work in a genre where the age-old tends to crowd out the new and exciting, no matter how brightly it blazes when debuted.

Some of its appeal doubtless lies in selecting such a searingly important 20th-century text for its basis — but you don’t generate audiences night after night on the strength of recognition alone. So what is it about choreographer Helen Pickett’s vision of Miller’s social fable which puts bums on seats?

Well, first is her confidence in showing what Miller tells — beginning with Salem farmer and businessman John Proctor’s (Bruno Micchiardi) ill-judged affair with the household maid, Abigail (Kayla-Maree Tarantolo). There’s nothing abstract in the pair’s swiftly escalating and passionate interplay, nor in the power dynamics between the older man and his employee. Once discovered by his wife Elizabeth (Jessica Fyfe), the maid is dismissed, and a chain of events is set in motion which culminate in the infamous Salem Witch Trials at the turn of the 17th century.

A Superb First Act and Stirring Ensemble Performances

The entirety of the First Act is simply superb — the narrative line clear, and the blend of ballet and modern dance judged to perfection. Peter Salem’s score amplifies the emotions in every scene, be it the pastoral harmony of Sunday worship or the atavistic dance of pubescent women seeking revenge on a rival via occult rituals deep in a shadowy forest. The entire Scottish Ballet company is in scintillating form throughout, led by the potent and richly characterised performances of Fyfe, Micchiardi, and Tarantolo.

Kudos are also due to a compact and electronically enhanced orchestra under Daniel Parkinson, particularly when their digital assets and live playing combine to thrilling effect.

Yes, knowing Miller’s play will help fill in some details, and identify some of the supporting characters better, but the girls’ discovery by the local minister Parris (Andrea Azzari), and their desperate need to find someone else to blame, is writ large across Emma Kingsbury and David Finn’s beautifully severe set. A little Simlish-esque (the language of The Sims) babble and accusing fingers leave no one in doubt that the Devil and a helpful band of local witches are responsible.

Striking Stage Design Enhances a Dark Narrative

The show’s design is worth a second mention — the stage left almost entirely bare and black but for an enormous square canopy bearing an immense, black cross. Through an ingenious set of pulleys and lighting, it rises and falls, twists and hovers, sometimes haunting proceedings, at other moments making a screen for some rather sinister shadow puppetry. It falls to Kingsbury’s stylised but recognisably period costume alone to place the story in time. As shows go, few achieve quite such magnificently handsome austerity.

Compression Issues in Act Two, but a Powerful Finish

The second act is no less lustrously performed nor deftly choreographed, but the storyline, whilst consistent with Miller’s barely veiled critique of McCarthyism, begins to suffer a tad.

The opening ‘Witch Trial’ scene, however, first offers yet another masterpiece of storytelling through dance. With the odious Deputy Governor of Massachusetts Danforth (Thomas Edwards) in charge, the four girls — Betty (Alice Kawalek), Mary (Danila Marzilli), Susanna (Mayu Takata), and Mercy (Elizabeth Williams) — obliterate any calls for wisdom with shrieking hysteria.

The witch hunt is then truly underway.

However, once Abigail’s malice finally brings the hunters to the Proctors’ door, there’s still almost three of Miller’s four acts to compress into one — something has to give. First, and perhaps the only slightly bum note in the production is John’s public disrobing of Abigail before the court — an inelegant way to indicate their prior liaison and the source of her animus towards his wife in particular.

Perhaps Pickett is trying to emphasise the problematic power imbalance, but Proctor is the play’s ultimate hero — a seriously flawed man who discovers integrity in the face of insane horror. Now, even horrible, abusive men don’t deserve execution, but this Proctor is hard to care for after that. Particularly when this scene, like every other, is underlined by Pickett and Salem’s singularly powerful combination of movement and music.

A Lasting Impact and the Mystery of Enduring Success

Simultaneously, the action begins to compress just a little too much, so that it’s not entirely clear what sequence of events leads from court to the local jail, or how long has passed. A rank of ominous nooses makes a grim backdrop but suggests impending doom rather than ongoing horror. Why is John in prison, and Abigail’s anointed witch, Elizabeth, not? Why won’t John sign a confession and save himself from being murdered?

Such is the weighty momentum of Scottish Ballet’s The Crucible it seems there’s just no time to spare for choreographed explanations. It’s destination is a singularly bleak and powerful final few moments nevertheless.

So, have we answered the question as to the show’s enduring popularity? Probably not. Yes, it’s very well conceived, choreographed, designed, and produced. Yet it’s not without imperfections (at least in my opinion), so why this, and not others? That, dear reader, is one of the wonderful mysteries of the performing arts — we all know ingredient-X exists, even if we can’t define it: The Crucible simply has it.

Featured Image: (Centre) Jessica Fyfe as Elizabeth Proctor in The Crucible. Credit Rimbaud Patron

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To book tickets for Scottish Ballet – The Crucible at the Edinburgh Festival Theatre, click here.

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