The Crucible

It's a pity that the French were the first to attempt an adaptation of Arthur Miller's controversial play The Crucible. The Salem witch trials, conducted in the severe Calvinistic atmosphere of colonial New England, represent an American aberration that Director Raymond Rouleau and his forces do not sufficiently comprehend. The fact that the good people of Salem talk French, and that the town itself is depicted as the type of medieval slum most often found in realist movies throws the entire production almost irretrievably off balance.

Written during the McCarthy era, the original play dealt with the mass hysteria caused by one demogogue playing on the fears of the people. The political overtones of the play were obvious (which is probably why Hollywood has never attempted to make a movie of it), but the play was more than a mere social pamphlet. It centered on the moral struggle of its farmer-hero John Proctor, who, accused of "consorting with the Devil," chooses to die rather than confess to a crime he has not committed.

As adapted for the movies by Jean-Paul Sartre, the Salem witch trials emerge as a plot by the aristocracy to chastize and control the stiff-necked rabble of the town. Thus, in the movie version, Proctor chooses to die for a cause rather than to preserve his own integrity. This distortion, coupled with an over-simplification of the motives of each character, considerably lessens the dramatic power of Miller's play.

Sartre has further chosen to emphasize the revengeful desires of Abigail Williams, a seventeen-year-old vixen who, after being seduced by Proctor, plots to have his wife hanged as a witch in order to take her place as mistress of the Proctor farm. Naturally then, there are some typically Gallic seduction scenes that are only implied in the play. The blatant lust of Abigail, brilliantly and demonically played by Mylene Demongeot, completely erases the more insidious evil of the original character.

As the unfortunate Proctor, Yves Montand suffers and grimaces with commendable vigor, but he never manages to convey the internal conflict that threatens to destroy him. Perhaps this is not his fault, for Sartre has created a John Proctor who is more of a symbol than a tragic hero. At any rate, acting laurels must go to Simone Signoret, who plays Proctor's wife with a combination of puritan pigheadedness and feminine warmth that makes her the only completely convincing character in the film. Director Rouleau's portrayal of Deputy Governor Danforth, the prosecutor, is so blunt that even in his moments of doubt about the justice of his own proceedings, he fails to evoke any sympathy.

Rouleau, however, does far better as a director. In a series of remarkably effective close-up shots he manages to dramatically convey the tension, uncertainty, and fear of the people of Salem. Except for an overly chaotic courtroom scene, the picture is smoothly and intelligently handled. (George Auric's score, incidentally, masterfully underlines the terror of the townspeople.)

If one disregards the abusrd Hollywood-type funeral cortege that closes the film, The Crucible turns out to be an exciting movie, which unfortunately does not do justice to Miller's play.