Lie At Your Own Will.
Hytner would never stutter, not even while revealing such a sensitive matter. But this is sort of an experiment that can only work as much as the project was engrossing on paper. If Nicholas Hytner, the director, deserves all the praise then Arthur Miller, the screenwriter, shares all the love with him. Never has been a courtroom drama so discreet and yet so incredibly sharp on its words. Scoff off the first act along with the climax, let’s dive in on the second and the most compelling act of all. This is a pure feat of visionary bohemian work that inspires and challenges, still, plenty of writers to recreate that very magic.
And I’ve been wondering what made our heart pump faster and blood boil, is it the inadequacy of good guys to prove their innocence or familiar lies that in the form of religion strikes them or just simply Daniel Day-Lewis hitting hard and regretfully on the table as a plea. It is none of that and all of that, but what keeps us at the brisk of our seat is the sense of urgency with which the evil force hits us. And in fact, the entire middle section of the film almost runs on real time that jarrs us more than any content it revolves around.
This peeling of a supernatural force and abuse of one’s belief is not only harrowing but also beautifully poetic on terms of how far beyond is this phenomenon stretch in the past to make us question everything. If Daniel, as always, proves to be an impactful factor on storytelling then so does Winona Ryder in her pale devilish looks that scares the bejesus out of you. Personally, I feel Joan Allen in her sensible cloak is much more effective along with Paul Scofield as the unterned, untouched and unfiltered messenger or so he calls himself, that affirmatively puts boundary on each character and The Crucible itself.