When Arthur Miller's play about the 17th-century Salem witchhunts in which neighbour betrayed neighbour and friend accused friend, was first performed in the early 1950s, its point of reference was the hearings of the Un-American Activities Committee. In the past 50 years the play has tended to pop up regularly in countries where dictatorship is just around the corner. But what does the play now mean, if you live in a democracy?
Gregory Floy's simple, very measured production, played with a quiet understated power, presents the story as that of a small, isolated rural community that implodes upon itself under a welter of confessional frenzy and false accusations.
Of course it makes the play less universal, less politically relevant, and smaller, but it also has the interesting effect of somehow making it more personal.
The production does something else interesting too: it gives the characters strong East Anglian accents which not only makes the play instantly relevant to the local community to whom it is being performed but also makes the historical link to the roots of the Salem community, which was in the hard, unforgiving Puritanism of Norfolk and the surrounding region. There religion was not a joy but a stick with which to beat any who stepped outside of the accepted norm.
Tim Meacock's plain wooden set has a wimple-like purity and added depth from the wood behind which, with its gnarled, tangled branches has both a nightmarish fairytale quality and is also a symbol of the unconscious.
The production would benefit from a little more pace and a notch or two more tension, but it is another major achievement for the Mercury. It boasts some excellent performances, most notably from Kelly Williams as Abigail, and Ignatious Anthony and Emma Gregory as John and Elizabeth Proctor, whose body language speaks volumes about the state of their marriage.
Until October 21. Box office: 01206 573948.
