FringeReview UK 2026

John Proctor is the Villain

Royal Court, Wagner Johnson Productions, Wessex Grove, Sonia Friedman Productions Runyonland and John Mara Jr

Genre: American Theater, Dance and Movement Theatre, Drama, Feminist Theatre, Mainstream Theatre, New Writing, Theatre

Venue: Royal Court Jerwood Theatre Downstairs

Festival: FringeReview UK

Low Down

Review

The #MeToo movement has already been claimed as a moment now passed: women and girls safely ribboned back into boxes, particularly in the U.S. with its Trad Wives disease born of global and personal insecurities. Kimberly Belflower’s 2022 smash John Proctor is the Villain set in 2018, proves it’s anything but. Colliding with Arthur Miller’s The Crucible, long a bastion of liberal resistance, makes it a revolutionary statement, blasting any notion of  political binaries. After several productions culminating in the 2024 Tony-winning production, it transfers recast to the Royal Court: which for several reasons seems ideal. It’s where The Crucible premiered in the UK 70 years ago in the Court’s first season. Again directed by Danya Taynor John Proctor is the Villain runs till April 25. You hope strong rumours of a West End transfer are true: it’s long sold out.

A Grade 11 school in a “one stoplight town in Appalachian Georgia” where Belfower herself comes from, might seem an outpost of revolution: and that’s the point. When Nell Shaw (Lauryn Ajufo) breezes in from Atlanta, she’s seen as the acme of sophistication. Indeed Nell, realised by Ajufo giving a glowingly steadfast performance, proves Nell’s sophisticated in reading people, taking developments in her stride others are boggled by. It’s equally clear the small town is narrowed by recognisably similar Christian doctrines to those that besieged Salem.

Cutbacks allow an intersectional moment. By accident. When class swat Beth Powell (Holly Howden Gilchrist, winning in her bright, earnest naivety) proposes a feminist reading group, anxious but affable young teacher Bailey Gallagher (Molly McFadden) is fazed, aware of reactionary tripwires everywhere. McFadden demonstrates how for much of the play, but not all of it, Miss Gallagher’s out of her depth. Like everyone she had a crush on charismatic sensitive, progressive Carter Smith (a radiant, occasionally acetylene Donal Finn): the Book of Mormon-smiling one everyone (even Miss Gallagher) had a crush on in their teens. He’ll know what to do. He does. He suggests they study The Crucible there too; that two boys might join the five girls. Clearly this has to be a stageable reduction of any class; Belflower ably demonstrates how she keeps nine characters distinct.

Married Mr Smith effortlessly empowers, affirms and navigates obstacles: you might see where this is headed, dovetailing themes. Whilst boys mildly disrupt, they’re not the story any more than Smith or indeed Proctor. Mason Adams (a superbly clueless Reece Braddock), who’s been untroubled by thinking till now, transmits an unfiltered town psyche: “Are you guys doing actual witchcraft in here?” Becoming class mascot, willing Mason wins a gleam from Nell as he learns differently. Nevertheless he’s voiced one theme emerging cannily from the town 326 years after Salem: Belflower never brings these energies viscerally close: they hover liminally in school governor proclamations, parents’ meetings.

This first affects privileged but warm Ivy Watkins. Clare Hughes exudes a bright cloud of unknowing that grows increasingly bewildered, as her respected father is caught in an affair. Ivy’s at first in denial. The small town’s reaction is almost to cocoon and isolate her as contaminated. Ivy recedes from the action, hovering near the group.

More disturbingly, Lee Turner (handsome Charlie Borg, his Lee used to having his own way) is pressuring Raelynn Nix (Miya James), who since they’ve been going out seven years (since they were nine!) is having seconds thoughts.  James’s goth-inflected Raelynn is reacting to her pastor father, but in a different way to Nell is emotionally – and intellectually – grown before her time. Lee had betrayed her with her best friend Shelby Holcomb (Sadie Soverall) who stole not only Lee but was caught out and suspended.

Now strangely-returned Shelby, sharper, brighter and to some witchier than anyone else disturbs everyone. Soverall intimates “the edge of a word” as Miller writes it as if she’s been personally scratched: it’s beyond triggering and Shelby has learned. The slow rapprochement between her and Raelynn is the core of this play. James and Soverall seethe with their characters’ unresolved feelings, and histories: in Shelby’s case this detonates.

Though 11^th Grade might seem unfamiliar, it’s more or less UK Year 10, and we’re not exactly unfamiliar with High School. Sarah Laux’s costumes intimate how class and fashion infiltrates, how colour proclaims. Scenography by AMP featuring Teresa L Williams encases the Downstairs theatre in a busy classroom with boards and video projections, lit by Natasha Katz to moments of intimacy. Palmer Hefferan’s sound and composition pulsates with ‘Green Light’, torch song of the late teens. Tilly Evans-Kreuger’s movement direction finally unleashes a very different shout.

As the two friends enact a meeting between Abigail and Elizabeth, Shelby’s “I think god would like it/they say he wouldn’t but.. is that all the men in charge?” might seem tame in the UK: but in the U.S. it’s still a grenade.

There’s a slight drifty feel after, with a paradoxically riveting speech by Raelynn. It’s the energy and starburst of the cast and direction that keeps this airborne. But there’s enough in the powerful writing to ensure a long life and – given the times – permanent relevance. Proctor also inspired Talene Monahon’s smaller-scaled The Good John Proctor which arrived at Jermyn Street in January 2024. It’s the nominal good-guy liberals, those meant to champion feminism, who prove most dangerous. Most memorably though, there’s tenderness and a world between women you feel is just starting out; and winning out over all the abuses, coercion and sophistry seen over this one-hour-fifty blast.

The apotheosis is both thrilling and more than timely. At a moment where feminism is being closed down (certainly in education) and rising dogmas – especially in the U.S. – trail the fundamentalism that gave rise to Salem, this needs screaming. Audibly from the top of the Royal Court and into the West End. And into every reach of American theatre.

Associate Director Yanni Ng, Casting Director Julia Horan CDG, Dramaturg Laura Halvorsen, Casting Assistant Poppy Apter, Casting Associate for Royal Court Saffeya Shebli.

Projection Designer Hannnah Wasileski, Lead Associate Projection Designer Allesandro Uragallo, Associate Projection Designers Katerina Vitaly, Libby Ward, Associate Sound designer Marie Zschommler.

Intimacy Co-ordinator Katherine Hardman for EK Intimacy. Assistant Director Charlotte Vickers, Voice/Dialect Coach Gigi Buffington. Associate Lighting Designer Aja M. Jackson, Associate Costume Designer Johanna Coe, Hair & Makeup Designer J. Jared Adams, Associate Hair & Makeup Designer Ceri Adams. Props Supervisor Lily Mollgaard.

Production Manager Marius Renning, Costume Supervisor Lucy Walshaw, Company Manager Mica Taylor, Stage Manager Laura Hammond, DSM Lavinia Serban.

Published April 11, 2026 by Simon Jenner