Linda Reiter and Adam Schulmerich Photo by Liz Lauren

Of course, our modern take on what happened in Salem is filtered through Arthur Miller's The Crucible, a play that tells the story as an allegory for the 1950s Hollywood blacklist. The problem is that Miller's popular play–which heavily features here–invents a lot of things about its characters. Among other things, it makes John Proctor–in reality a 60-year-old tavern keeper, in Miller's play a 35-ish farmer–its protagonist instead of the women who were falsely accused and put to death. (To be fair, Proctor was also an innocent victim of the witch hunts.) It also sullies the name of Abigail Williams, the girl whom the play blames for starting it all and for doing so out of jealousy because she had a sexual affair with Proctor–which she didn't: the 17-year-old Abigail of the play was eleven when the witch hunt started and in all likelihood had never even met Proctor.

But it's this version of affairs that America believes, probably because it's the only version anyone knows. Becky wants to set the record straight about this and many other discrepancies from the "real" story that has been passed down in her family. Reiter gives a masterful performance throughout as her character does everything she can think of, including breaking into the museum and even seeing a practicing witch–yes, Salem has those too, and this one is well played by Rebecca Jordan–to help her get her job back and give a metaphysical nudge to the possible love blooming between her and the village tavern owner, Bob (Ramón Camín), whom she has known all of her life. (I don't think there is any intended parallel to Proctor here, but I'd have to ask playwright Sarah Ruhl to be certain.)

There are three other actors here. Hilary Williams plays the college-educated manager of the museum who knows her stuff and clashes with Becky. Diego Rivera-Rodriguez plays Stan, Gail's goth-light boyfriend whose mere existence drives a wedge between Becky and her granddaughter. And Adam Schulmerich plays both a jailer and a judge in the occasionally bonkers second act, in which Becky goes to jail, the aforementioned witch comes to her in a dream (or is it?) and Gail and Stan dabble in black magic to try to free Becky.

That aside, this is a wild ride. Ruhl, whose work I admire, is at her finest here. She has carefully constructed a play that wraps together Salem, Miller's biography, magic, employment problems, and even the opioid crisis (which hit Massachusetts and indeed all of New England very hard; this play features a protracted withdrawal scene). I've directed The Crucible and knew a lot of Ruhl's truths about the witch trials, but I learned some things here.

Behind the scenes, director Polly Noonan pulls all of the strings of this complicated piece of theatre with aplomb. (This is especially the case in that busy second act.) Jack Magaw's set is equally at home in modern Salem and in 1692, and Christine Binder's lighting design differentiates locations and time periods elegantly. Jessie Gowens' costumes are uniformly–no pun intended–perfect as well, and Andre Pluess works his own magic with sound design and original music.

In all, Ruhl's latest play adds a new layer to the already wonderful list of plays she has written, and this production more than does the play justice–even if it is centuries too late for the victims of the witch trials.

Becky Nurse of Salem, a Shattered Globe Theatre production, runs through November 16, 2024, at Theater Wit, 1229 W. Belmont, Chicago IL. For tickets and information, please visit www.sgtheatre.org