The three angular doorways stood in bold silhouette against the lighted chameleon screen. While the set itself is traditional in rough woods and elegantly structured levels, the sparse furnishings and ambiguous thresholds lend a sense of transience to the stage that mirrors the versatile applicability of Miller’s script. Each of the three entryways is backlighted by a bright light that forces itself between the cracks and crevices of the structures and spreads out sharply across the floor. While the effect is striking, it was also a mild annoyance, as it shined directly into the eyes of the audience throughout the performance. The major scene change between the village to the prison highlighted the flexibility of the set, as it was executed fluidly and simply with the replacement of the paned window and slatted doors with iron bars. Not so smooth, however, were some of the technical aspects of the show. While I found the lighting and sound choices bold, they often seemed incongruously choppy or inappropriate, and several times the background overtones drown out the dialogue.
      John Proctor was a solid, if often violent, presence on the stage. Physically imposing, with piercing dark eyes and a booming voice, Eric Curtis, did fair justice to the conflicted insurgent created by the talented pen of Miller. Although he played the part with a consistent power, I didn’t feel that he plumbed the depths of his character in the famous “God is dead,” and “Leave me my name” monologues - but that could just be my affection for melodrama speaking. His relationship with Elizabeth Proctor, played by UA junior Kaylor Otwell, provided the most absorbing plot line. Played with poise and an often cold passion, Otwell brought Elizabeth Proctor to life with a full-bodied grace and depth. Stage veteran Westcott Youngston brought a blustering humor and confused humanity to the play as John Giles, juxtaposed nicely with the stringent severity of the Reverend Parris (Russell Frost). The cast varied greatly in age, from the marvelously portentous Deputy Governor Danforth (Jon Darby), to young squealing Betty (Elizabeth Mosely), but they all worked together quite adroitly to produce a powerful production of the ever poignant “The Crucible.”