Review by Cassandra Gaviria
Who Is John Proctor? And Why Is He the Villain?
If you’re reading that title and asking yourself those exact questions, don’t worry, I’ve got the perfect breakdown for you. I recently attended a sold-out Presenting Series performance of John Proctor Is the Villain, directed by Sarah Gittenstien, and I’m excited to share why this play has stayed on my mind ever since.
About John Proctor Is the Villain
Playwright Kimberly Belflower wrote the play in 2017 as a response to the #MeToo movement, and it was first produced in 2022. John Proctor Is the Villain offers a bold, revisionist take on Arthur Miller’s The Crucible. Instead of Puritans and witch trials, Belflower centers on a group of modern-day high school students in rural Georgia who are trying to understand the historical events behind Miller’s text, and trying to make sense of the realities they’re living through themselves.
You might not expect much drama from a “one-stoplight town,” but trust me…a LOT happens. Between laugh-out-loud classroom moments and a show-stopping interpretive dance to “Green Light” by Lorde, John Proctor Is the Villain guides us through the messy, funny, and deeply human journey of girls coming of age. It’s a story about uncovering uncomfortable truths, confronting gender politics, rethinking feminism, and reclaiming the narratives that shape women’s stories, all told with a sharp comedic touch that makes the emotional punch land even harder.
The Classroom: Where Everything Starts
Every time I step into the Philbin Studio Theatre at DPAC, I’m left speechless, and this performance was no exception. The moment I walked in, I felt transported straight back to my own high school days. The neatly arranged desks lining the stage, the harsh white lights overhead (the same kind that practically burned my eyes during 7 a.m. classes), and the quiet hum of anticipation all made the space feel instantly familiar. Once our very own Notre Dame student actors entered, dressed in perfectly accurate 2018 outfits, I swear I couldn’t believe my eyes. It felt real.
What impressed me most about the set was how alive it became through movement. The actors transitioned the classroom from scene to scene with a kind of choreographed precision, seamlessly shifting desks and chairs to transform the space into an English classroom, the feminist club, or even Ms. Gallagher’s office. The fluidity of these transitions made the storytelling feel dynamic, as if the world of the play kept reshaping itself right in front of us.
My First Experience with John Proctor Is the Villain
Ever since I first read John Proctor Is the Villain at the beginning of 2025, I don’t think I’ve encountered another play that captivated me so completely from start to finish. One of the biggest reasons why is how instantly connected I felt to the characters, their contemporary references, their humor, and their deeply relatable teenage chaos. When they quoted Taylor Swift, wondered if they were good enough to get into a great college, or shared stories about boyfriends who disappointed them, it felt like the play was holding up a mirror to some of the high school conversations I ever had with my friends.
When Humor Meets Truth
Beneath all that humor and laughter, something else was happening. The comedy didn’t just entertain me; it made me listen more closely. It softened the edges of the tougher moments so that when the truth hit, it hit hard. That’s the magic of John Proctor Is the Villain: you go on this wild, funny, deeply human journey with these girls, and somewhere along the way, you become startlingly aware of the world around you.
A moment of casual violence. A woman being called a liar. A man you trusted, revealing a side of himself you didn’t imagine.
These aren’t just plot twists; they’re the moments that shift how the girls understand themselves and the narratives they’ve been handed.
Finding Their Voices
By the end of the play, what matters most is the way the girls start to see through the stories they’ve been taught, the ones that excuse certain men, silence certain women, and shape who gets believed. They begin to question whose version of events they’ve accepted and why.
And in that questioning, something powerful happens: they find their voices.
Voices that won’t be minimized, dismissed, or taken back.
Voices that refuse to let someone else’s narrative define their own.
That, more than anything, is what stays with you after the explosive final dance scene set to “Green Light,” not just what the girls discover about the world, but what they discover about themselves.
I don’t think I’ll ever stop talking about John Proctor Is the Villain or telling my friends how insanely good it was. If you want to relive some of the magic, don’t forget to check out our Instagram and TikTok for exclusive behind-the-scenes moments and more DPAC fun.
