A woman — not a witch, just a woman whose town has decided they don’t like her — addresses the audience. She wonders if it would be better to burn the world down. (Who hasn’t?) She then addresses anyone who feels like they’ve lost hope, inviting them to hear a story. Such begins the clever, darkly comedic “Witch” by Jen Silverman, directed by Jesika Barnes and presented by Penfield Players through November 8.
“Witch” first premiered in London’s West End in 2018, and unlike many new plays of that year, it survived the theatrical lull of the pandemic and has resurged past 2020 as a popular play in theater classrooms and both professional and amateur theaters. Within the first few scenes, it’s easy to see why. Though a loose adaptation of the 1621 play “The Witch of Edmonton,” this production speaks directly to now. Plot points and characters are inspired by the Jacobean drama, but the vernacular is unabashedly 21st century, with lines like “What’s the BFD with Frank?” and “So, that’s a thing.”
The set design (Meghan Brede and Nick Daszkiewicz) evokes a spooky season mood: three paneled doors, dried bouquets hanging from the wall and furniture covered in black blankets. The play contains elements of Halloween — a devil, a witch, ominous strings between scenes — though the closest the play gets to actual horror is the patriarchy. The time is “then-ish, but equally of our moment,” according to the program, evoked through costume design by Kate Quinn that hints at bygone eras, including a bowler hat and medieval tunics, not beholden to a specific year.
The plot hinges on Scratch, a junior salesman demon who has sold souls for several centuries in various guises, and now intentionally choosing to present as a young man. “I didn’t like how people looked at me,” he said, when explaining why he stopped appearing as a woman. The delightful Kiyomi Oliver is ethereal enough to hint at the devil’s genderfluid background in the role, while knowing when to play up the sleazy salesman grift.
Early in the play, Scratch makes two deals. First is Cuddy Banks (Solstice Moon), the son of a lord, who is set to inherit land and title but is more interested in Morris dancing (an English folk dance) than discussing politics with his father Sir Arthur Banks, played by an amiable Christopher Woods Marlin. Moon plays up the childish pettiness of a privileged rich boy too effeminate to be understood by his father, and the character makes a hotheaded deal that he spends the rest of the play both anticipating and regretting.
Scratch also bargains for the soul of Cuddy’s rival, Frank Thorney, a recipient of Sir Arthur’s philanthropy and competitor for his fatherly affection. Wil Clancy as Frank has the booming presence of a charismatic narcissist who thinks he deserves the world. Frank is secretly married to the maid Winnifred, played convincingly by Andrea Daszkiewicz as a woman in love who is running out of patience as Frank promises her they will rule the land together — someday, eventually.
With Scratch’s third offer, he faces the first major challenge of his career: a refusal. Who would say no to getting what they want? The character who opened the show, Elizabeth Sawyer, is defiant and fiercely independent, played by Elizabeth Saunders with a gentle softness that highlights the misogyny of the town for outcasting her. Scratch’s jovial superficiality becomes a nervous vulnerability as the late night “off the clock” talks with Elizabeth turn more personal.
The play asks questions about power and gender: Is it better for a man to be gentle or tough? Why does the devil give a different pitch to men than to women? What options are available for women?
The script is smart and surprising, staying a few steps ahead of the audience with twists and laugh-out-loud funny lines. Under Barnes’s direction, the cast keeps the play light. Once Scratch becomes entranced by Elizabeth, he becomes too earnest to be a devilish threat, and any danger is downplayed in favor of romance. Likewise, the tensions in the noble household are softened with humor, as the actors lean into the satirical playfulness of Frank and Arthur’s talks on the free market and Winnifred’s passive aggressive reactions to being ignored by Frank. The play ends in a thought-provoking and dark place, but overall, the production is less interested in philosophy than in entertainment.
As an amateur troupe, the Penfield Players work with what they have, making the most of a challenging venue in the Penfield Community Center gymnatorium. During opening night, distracting noises came from the furnace, as though the space was possessed by its own demon. Ultimately, the play won. Hope may be hard to come by, but at the very least, “Witch” offers an enchanting diversion.
“Witch” is onstage through November 8. More info and tickets here.
