Matriculation is, for many of us current students, our only experience of Oxford’s favourite crowd-puller, the Sheldonian Theatre: hundreds flock to the ceremonial hall dressed in ridiculous garb to present themselves to the powers that be, forced to mumble strange incantations in Latin with the underlying feeling that the whole affair might well be something of a pact with the Devil.
So not too far a cry, then, from Arthur Miller’s celebrated The Crucible, which goes along similar lines. Running a week after the 10th anniversary of the Pulitzer-prize-winning playwright’s death, the much anticipated performance is set to be a very special event. Special not simply because it’s the first ever student production to grace the Sheldonian stage, but also because the impressive cast and crew have created something remarkably effortless out of a bloody difficult play.
‘The Crucible is relevant’ is the basic concept behind the performance. Based on the 1692 Salem Witch Trials, it tells the story of a group of girls who, under the malign influence of Abigail Williams, manipulate a town consumed by fears of witchcraft, and begin mercilessly to send innocents to the gallows. For those dubious about the political resonance of the 17th century witch-hunt today, director Lily Slater’s answer would be that, ultimately, this is a play about extreme human injustice.
Miller’s allegory is a stark reminder of the realities of contemporary violence committed under ideological pretexts and the claim to be doing God’s work. Unlike the recent production at the Old Vic, which seemed at times to be an attack on a complicit audience, the horseshoe Sheldonian Theatre lends itself to a hostile courtroom atmosphere, one that makes judges rather than enemies of us all. Witness to the dangers of absolute conviction in one’s own righteousness, Govenor Danforth’s goading, “You surely do not doubt my justice,” only reminds us of the perils of theological prejudice, and the belief that there is something ungodly in debate. In certain corners of the globe, apostasy is still a capital offence; in all four corners, people die for their beliefs or are killed by someone else’s.
This will not be a simple rehash of the widely acclaimed Old Vic production. Steering clear of the tendency to split ears with Miller’s hard-edged, boisterous prose, Slater creates an atmosphere that is rather quieter and more temperate than previous professional productions, no easy feat for a cast of twenty-two. Seeking strength in numbers, even the smallest roles come into their own, contributing to both the verbal and spatial dynamics of an increasingly sinister mob.
Leads have been warned not to fall into the typical trap of hamming-up Miller’s contentious characters: Sam Liu is sharp and officious as Danforth, Thomas Curzon’s Proctor is quietly threatening and softens his aggression as he shifts subtly between his two modes, while Emma Hewitt, as a more mature Abigail is, indeed, a “marvellous pretender”, keeping her cool as a manipulative provocateur amidst the panic that ensues around her. In addition, the performance will be underscored by a haunting student-composed original score, performed a cappella by the cast itself – a good accompaniment to the performance’s eerie sense of calm before the storm.
Perhaps in anticipation of only having the chance for two major rehearsals in the Sheldonian before opening night, the preview demonstrates the directors’ meticulous attention to the use of space. A play centred around the balance of justice and power, the production’s symmetry only adds to The Crucible’s profound them-and-us divide which, when crossed, will result in visibly violent clash. This promises to be an explosive production, successfully stripping the Sheldonian of its “middle-ground” for two nights only.
