THE CRUCIBLE Selfie from Sam D.

            In the midst of The Crucible by Arthur Miller is the feeling of fear and insecurity. The entire town is enslaved to the idea put forth by one small group, and it escalates into something much larger. Although the text and acting conveys this idea well enough on its own, the set and scene transitions played a large part in creating the eerie atmosphere of the town and of the idea of uncertainty.

            As the audience filed into the theatre, the most obvious thing about the set to me was the fog. The fog machines were on for a good portion of the half-hour before the play began, and the fog itself was kept just thin enough to be able to see through it, but thick enough for it to be noticeably there. By the time the intermission rolled around, most of it had dissipated, but the machines started up again and kept the fog for the first scene of the second act. In literature, fog is often used as a metaphor for something that is unclear, and as the play centers on the question of whether the girls of Salem are telling the truth, it was a very telling introduction before any of the actors even stepped onto the stage. Even the thickness of the fog was a clue: it was clear enough for the truth to be visible, but it was still just dense enough for one to argue that the opposite might be true. This reminded me of how the girls of Salem pull the wool over the men’s eyes as they continue their act to get Goody Proctor, John Proctor, and a large number of others killed. The men had multiple opportunities to see what was really going on, especially when John Proctor presented his case to the court, but they chose not to and instead continued listening to the girls.

            The set and stage itself also added to the feeling of insecurity. The stage elements were all painted gray, and there were some pieces of gray cloth hung precariously on some of the taller parts of the stage. The color gray itself is an ambiguous color; it is not as straightforward as black or white and lands somewhere in between the two. Many of the townspeople do the same. They don’t want to believe that there is witchcraft in their town, but they also don’t have another explanation for what has been happening there. Also, the elements of the stage were in less than pristine condition. Although they had been painted, the wood was rough, and the pieces of cloth reminded me of dust covers on furniture from an attic that hadn’t been explored in years. The old feel compares to the townspeople, who are somewhat set in their ways, but it also contrasts to the new ideas of witch hunts that were gaining popularity in Europe. Whereas their religion is an old one, the idea of witch hunting is new and exciting to them and seems to be the perfect solution to their problem. In addition, the play was done in the round, so there were audience members on all sides of the stage. Because of this, I felt as though I was actually a member of the Salem community and had to decide for myself whether the “witches” were really witches at all. It felt as though we, not the actors, were the council deciding their fate, and I definitely felt the uncertainty that the townspeople must be going through.

            The transitions between scenes added to the insecurity of the town, as well. When the set needed changing, the entire cast walked out and slowly carried the props and furniture off the stage. The light was similar to that of the fog; it was bright enough to see what was going on, but dark enough to keep it from being the center of attention. The strangeness of it, however, was the way that the props were carried off. The cast that wasn’t on stage during the previous scene walked in, looking straight forward, and synchronously lifted whatever prop they were assigned to. Then, all together, they turned toward the exit and carried them off stage. This not only tells about the way the community works, but also about how uncertain they may be. The synchronized walking is obviously used to represent how the town works together and functions as a community; they know what they are required to do, and they do it the same way everyone else does. If any of them have any question about the events that are happening, they don’t show it. Although some members of the community might have doubts about the witch hunting, they still go along with it, because to disagree might mean to be accused of witchcraft themselves. They are trying to return their daily lives to the way they used to be before the “witchcraft” started.

            The Crucible shows how a community can be overtaken by uncertainty and the desire to solve a problem, even if the townspeople aren’t sure that they agree with the solution. I felt as though I were in the middle of the decision making and that the fog was clouding my vision as it did to the men on the council in an attempt to keep daily life as normal as possible. The set and transitions demonstrate this without the actors needing to speak a word, and they add another layer to the already complex functions of the town and the feelings of the townspeople.

HENRY IV Selfie from Sam D.

William Shakespeare’s Henry IV, Part I brings to mind images of honor, glory, and rebellion. Although there are many issues presented in the play that are poignant, the one that stood out the most to me was the maturation of Prince Hal—or the lack thereof, if he was in fact “faking” his misbehavior. Despite the fact that he was only pretending at the start of the play, by the end, his character has seen much development in ways the prince probably was not expecting.

 

When Prince Hal (Alex Hassell) is first seen, he is, in short, extremely immature. His first scene involves him in bed with two women as the comic relief after an extremely serious opening scene. His next scene is not much better; he and his friends scheme to steal a thousand pounds, and then he and his friend plan to swipe it again from their own group for laughs. This definitely doesn’t seem to be the first time he’s done it, though. His fellow thieves seem to know him well, and mentions are made to previous “excursions” of the same kind. He even plans tricks on Sir John Falstaff (Antony Sher) as a joke. It seems as though such a boy isn’t fit to be king any time soon.

Surprisingly, however, he manages his role as prince quite well. During the mock royal court in the tavern, he replaces Falstaff as king because he thought Falstaff wasn’t a good enough actor. Prince Hal’s acting chops, though, are surprisingly good; he plays king just as well as his own father might. When he finally does meet with the king, he knows precisely what to say and

how to say it in order to get his father on his side, and he even stands up and offers to battle Hotspur. In the midst of the battle, he protects his father from Douglas’ attempt at his life, and he does in fact fight Hotspur (Trevor White) and win. In the very last scene, his father even entrusts him with ruling a part of his kingdom. The stage helps solidify this point; the smooth transitions, thrust stage, and vomitories make entrances and exits much more dramatic or subdued when necessary, especially during the battles at the end of the play. Because of this, the audience was able to see the passion and growth (or lack thereof) in each scene. As the show went on, I definitely felt as though whatever change Prince Hal went through was occurring directly in front of me. The actors even involved the audience in many of the scenes, making it as though we were also thieving and fighting the battles with them. At this point, it begins to seem as though Hal has made quite a turn-around, and much for the better.

But when he is out carousing with his friends, Prince Hal tells them that he’s just taking a cue from Machiavelli. He is only pretending to be rambunctious in order so that, when he does become king, he will look even better for having overcome his youth. He argues that his thievery and antics are, in fact, good for the country, because it means he will be that much better of a king. So was there really a “growing up” at all, or was it all an act? And why would anyone in their right mind think that stealing from nuns is “good for the country?”

If the whole thing wasn’t staged, Prince Hal did quite a bit of maturing in a short period of time. In one scene, he’s playing king with his comrades, and in the next, he’s offering to battle the rebellious Hotspur for his father. The possibility that it could all just be an act is a strong one, but it is also possible that this was merely an excuse to get away with everything he did. Perhaps he wanted to steal for the adrenaline rush, or to simply have something fun to do with his friends, and the excuse that it would make him a good king seemed to be the one that would get him in the favor of more people. And it certainly does; the bystanders in the pub seem impressed with his explanation for his actions.

Regardless of whether he had Machiavellian intentions, Prince Hal does eventually experience character development. After slaying Hotspur, his entire demeanor changes. He is no longer a boy playing at kingship and war—he has been thrust into the midst of it. The land he is given to rule requires that he actually does mature, and quickly. Actions speak louder than words, and although Hal has been talking about how he will become a great king, it is not proven until he goes into battle and is given land to rule, which are perhaps the most “kingly” demonstrations of strength, both physical and mental. His real “growing up” is not of his own choice, but of an event that requires growth and change in any individual who experiences it.

Although his rebellious stage may or may not have been an act, by the end of the play, Prince Hal has experienced development and a sense of adulthood that he definitely did not have at the beginning. The experience of killing a fellow man changes him entirely. That, not a decision to change on his own, is what causes his maturation.

CURIOUS INCIDENT Selfie from Samantha D.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time has many features exclusive to British culture that may seem different to Americans or those of other nationalities. One aspect I found particularly interesting was the role and functionality of neighborhoods and those who live in them. Compared to the one I live in, the neighborhood of Christopher Boone (Graham Butler) represented in The Curious Incident seemed to be for the most part more close-knit and personal, and although there are some similarities between English neighborhoods and my own in regards to trust, there are also many differences.

The play brings into question the relationship between neighbors. Even though Mrs. Alexander doesn’t appear to know Christopher personally very well when she is first introduced in the play, she still invites him inside for tea and biscuits and consistently tries to help him. He protests that she is a stranger, and he is not allowed to talk to strangers. Her reply is that she is not a stranger, but a friend—even though they have just met. This is an exchange that continues for the rest of the play, and brings to mind a question: are neighbors friends or strangers? Mrs. Alexander appears to think it makes them friends, because she has seen Christopher walk to school every day and has a clear view of his bedroom window from her home. But Christopher does not seem to recognize her, and thus considers her a stranger in his mind. Americans seem to be torn on this issue, as well; some parents will tell their children not to talk to their neighbors unless it is an emergency, while other parents have no issue with their children exploring the neighborhood and talking to the people who live nearby. When I was growing up, there were certain people I could talk to, and the rest of the neighborhood was off-limits to me. Christopher does not seem to have this limitation. Additionally, this points back to an issue that I felt was an important part of the play: trust. Which neighbors are trustworthy, and which ones aren’t? My parents made that decision for me, but Christopher must determine this on his own.

The set itself begins to create the feel of community before any acting is done on behalf of the neighbors. The houses are displayed using LED lights and projections of the house numbers onto the open box used as the stage. The houses are close together physically, as well, which appears to be due not only to limited stage space, but also because that is how homes are situated in many English towns. This is quite different from my neighborhood; we tend to like to have a little bit of distance from our neighbors—so much so that most of us have built high fences and have quite a bit of extra space between our properties. Perhaps this is a part of the issue of trust; English neighbors might have more trust between them, so their “houses” (as representations of themselves) are closer together and have no walls.

This close proximity in physical space in English neighborhoods also leads to a closeness in emotional space. Many in the neighborhood already know about the death of Wellington, the dog, when Christopher does his “detective work” and asks his neighbors about the incident also seems to be common knowledge within the community that Christopher’s mother (Emily Joyce) and Mr. Shears (Daniel Casey) left because they had an affair. People whom Christopher has never even spoken to know his name and even a little bit about him, including Mrs. Alexander (Gay Soper) and No. 40 (Vivienne Ampcheampong). Christopher mentions having played with Wellington quite often, and no one seems to find this unusual. The set design also helps create this sense of community; the choice to use lights and house number projections in lieu of barriers and physical numbers make the houses seem much less separate and more like a common place for the neighbors. There is some of this togetherness to be found in American communities, but in my neighborhood, we tend to “mind our own business” and leave our neighbors to themselves.

There is also a sense of openness in Christopher’s community that, at least in my experience, is absent in America. Although some of Christopher’s neighbors appeared slightly standoffish, they cooperated and answered his questions for the most part. Walking up to neighbors’ houses and inquiring about a dog isn’t likely to receive a warm response in my neighborhood, not because my neighbors are rude, but because they value their privacy and like to remain unbothered. The stereotype of the English being more standoffish and less friendly than Americans is obviously broken here, as the opposite seems to be true.

There are some other similarities between American and English neighborhoods. “Outsiders” who don’t have much to do with the rest of the community are represented in the play, as well as the typical elderly lady, Mrs. Alexander. Both of these groups are also present in my community. There is also a sense of knowing everyone’s name; when Christopher goes to ask questions, he knows the name of every person in every house. This is also similar to my neighborhood because, although we may not speak to each other, we know everyone’s name.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time gives a good glimpse into the workings of a “typical” English neighborhood, which has some very large differences to American ones. In general, there appears to be a larger amount of trust and friendliness between neighbors in English communities, whereas American neighborhoods tend to be more isolated. The comparison between the two has helped me to change my views on how the English live and their relationships with those around them.