The Crucible

"Hurry up or we'll be late," Erin said to me as I gave myself one last look in the mirror. With tickets in-hand we were on our way to "The Crucible"; a play where we attended school at Dixie State College. The theatre air was warm, and our spirits were excited. Having no trouble finding our seats in such an intimate and small set-up, we prepared ourselves for a night of being taken away to another time. Opening with "Come Thou Fount Of Every Blessing", an old hymn, a few actors slowly walked on stage. We felt peace settle in around us. Suddenly, the lights turned blood red, and screaming and drums were heard all around us. Just as suddenly as it had come, it stopped. Then a man carrying a young women in his arms came on stage, and gently placed her on a prop bed. Captivated, we watched the story unfold.
I felt this play is a very well-presented form of expressing the tragedies that befell Salem, Pennsylvania in the early days of our country. But being shown in its conventional, noisy atmosphere, I found it hard to concentrate on their interpretation of the play. Eighty percent of the actors that came on stage shouted, screamed, or yelled their lines to the point of incoherence. Already being in tightly-nit spacing, we could hear a pin drop. Adding such a strong volume of voice, only amplified the noise. I understand this seems to be the gerenal interpretation of this play, but there are borders not to cross. I would recommend the experience of this play to anyone I know, purely for educational pruposes, but not this particular showing of it. The actors had talent. They just had to squeeze it out until they screamed.