||[May. 19th, 2016|02:10 am]
I didn't know anything of The Crucible before tonight. Yes, I'm probably the only person I the country who didn't read it in high school. So I can't say what in the present Broadway revival is Arthur Miller and what's director Ivo van Hove. But between them it's a curious, unsettling evening.
There were so many chuckles in the first act that I was thinking, "Gee, I didn't know this was a comedy." It turns out to be a set-up for the second half, deepening the descent into horror. Every word spoken or unspoken turns out to be another step on the path to madness and the undoing of the town.
The score by Philip Glass, one of the main attractions, is mainly stock Glass deployed for atmosphere rather than musical interest, a constant presence burbling in the distance. Not really enough to be a draw, but there's plenty else here.
I'm still chewing on it, and without much background. There might have been more here if I'd waited a few days. But the subway ride home after the show is the prescribed reaction time here.