PROCTOR BY PROXY
In playwright Talene Monahon’s new play The Good John Proctor, John Proctor doesn’t actually appear. He is integral to the plot and is certainly referenced but there is no physical character named John Proctor. So he is there but, at the same time, he isn’t — which is an apt description of Ms. Monahon’s new work. In this current effort, the talented writer creates a kind of origin story for Arthur Miller’s The Crucible. Though taking its inspiration more from the actual lives of the real life girls who were dramatized by Miller than by his play, Monahon’s writing ends where Miller’s work begins — with the discovery of the girls cavorting in the woods, ostensibly with evil spirits. Currently running at Connelly Theater, Ms. Monahon’s sterling writing shines through yet is it wrapped in a hazy fog of vagueness, never seeming to be quite sure of what story it is telling.
Sharlene Cruz
Ms. Monahon is a smart and funny writer as anyone lucky enough to see her 2022 play on Jane Anger can attest (see review). In this current exploration of female adolescence under the restrictions of provincial attitudes, unyielding patriarchy and religious zealotry, Ms. Monahon tempers the laughs with an honest look at the detriment these kinds of repressive systems can have on young women. She gives these 16th-century tweens anachronistic viewpoints, language and perceptions. This infusion of 2023 into Old Salem — sometimes hilariously, sometimes poignantly — points out how the trials of young womanhood, at their core, may not have changed that much over the centuries. One of the main takeaways Monahon delivers quite effectively is that what these girls went through — “possession, blackouts, witchcraft” — were not otherworldly but in response to the challenges of growing up and, in some cases, horribly traumatic experiences. If seen for what they were, rather than through the veil of ignorance and prejudice, they could have been handled in a way that would have helped these girls — rather than hurt them and others around them.
Brittany K. Allen
Ten-year-old Betty Parris (a charming and solid Sharlene Cruz) and her twelve year-old cousin Abigail Williams (a strong and impressive Susannah Perkins) are best friends. They live together at the home of Betty’s parents, Reverend and Mrs. Parris. Reverend Parris is the main minister in Salem and Mrs. Parris, well, she has problems so she’s not that available to Betty and Abigail. The girls spend their time churning butter, playing status games about Kings, consorting with dolls called “poppets” (which may or may not be gateways to demon possession) and talking about many things that girls that age would talk about. They have another twelve-year-old friend named Mercy Lewis (a hilarious and moving Tavi Gevinson) who is already a barely functioning alcoholic and vigilantly sees evil everywhere. Since Mercy is already a servant for a family, the orphaned Abigail decides it is time she too finds a job and goes to work for the Proctor family. Abigail feels very alone without her playmate but soon finds companionship with a strange girl from Maine who comes to town named Mary Warren (an enigmatic and whimsical Brittany K. Allen). Mary is eighteen years old and recently lost her spiritualist mother, so now she must fend for herself. Mary also has a strong interest in venturing into the woods near Salem, which are forbidden to enter because they supposedly contain witches and evil. As Mary and Betty’s secret friendship grows, Abigail’s life of service falls apart. Overwhelmed and searching for help, Abigail finds comfort in the older Mary. But where and how will Mary deliver that help?
Tavi Gevinson
Monahon’s writing has a cinéma vérité kind of quality in this piece, with many scenes showing the girls’ ordinary life in Salem, some advancing the overall plot and some not. At least not obviously. Direction by Caitlin Sullivan, Scenic Design by Cate McCrea and Lighting Design by Isabella Byrd follows this lead, laying an undefined quality over the whole show. The challenge for the audience, however, is that it is sometimes difficult to know what’s going on. For instance, it’s about three or four scenes in before a character states Betty and Abigail are sleeping in the attic, which is great, because otherwise it seems they have been sleeping on a cart outdoors. Admittedly, McCrea’s functional set needs to easily morph into multiple locations so a less-is-more choice makes sense. However, the less could maybe use just a little more to help with the audience’s bearing. This dynamic reappears throughout the production, sometimes giving a feeling that there’s a missing piece needed to get the whole story.
Sharlene Cruz, Susannah Perkins, and Tavi Gevinson
There is something that feels rather secretive about The Good John Proctor by Talene Monahon. However, young girls often keep playful secrets between themselves. The horror that is done to them is often forced to stay in secret as well. It’s a well-chosen theme for a show partly about girls entering adolescence. Here’s hoping the next incarnation of this worthwhile play will be less of a secret to the audience.
Sharlene Cruz and Brittany K. Allen
photos by Ashley Garrett
Susannah Perkins
The Good John Proctor
Bedlam
Connelly Theater, 220 E. 4th St.
ends on April 1, 2023
for tickets, call 833.4BEDLAM or visit Bedlam