There is no time for doubt in Jen Silverman’s Witch. When the Devil appears, one must accept that he is real and be ready to bargain—because your future is at stake and you might not get another chance.

The playwright’s inventive rework of a classic 17th century English drama taps into the urgency of moment we find ourselves in America, not with obvious stand-ins for contemporary political figures or events, but with the universal struggle people feel for hope in dark times.

Scratch (Joshua J. Weinstein), his name pseudonymous for the Devil, has arrived in the rural town of Edmonton eager to claim souls in exchange for granting people’s darkest desires. He immediately sets his sights on the rivals Cuddy Banks (Charles Grant), the aristocratic son of Sir Arthur Banks (George Mount), and Frank Thorney (Logan Bailey), a peasant his father plucked out of poverty.

Cuddy feels overlooked and simmers with resentment while Frank—hardened by the life he has endured—is driven by ambition to rise above the station of his birth. As the two circle each other, vying for Sir Arthur’s favor, the tension between them builds in a way that blurs the lines between resentment and obsession. Caught between them is a household maid, Winnifred (Jessica Tidd) who has married Frank in secret and is desperate for someone to offer her security.

While the men vie over power, Scratch works on his most difficult customer: Elizabeth Sawyer (Lauren Modica-Soloway), the local witch, according to the village gossip. Elizabeth seems the perfect customer for a Faustian bargain—spurned by the community, filled with righteous anger, and yet, she constantly refuses the offer.

Silverman’s use of modern language in a historical setting ensures Witch lands with modern audiences (the script actually forbids faux period accents) thanks, in no small part, to their strength as a writer. After a haunting opening monologue by Elizabeth, where she muses on the idea of hoping for a better world, the show dives into a delicious onslaught of verbal spars between the odd characters.

Director (and Profile Theatre’s artistic director) Josh Hecht mines the script for every scrap of its humor and the actors eat up every scene. But Silverman’s true skill as a writer is how they peel their characters back, layer by layer, to their vulnerable cores. Anguish eats at everyone, including Scratch, and the cast walks the line between the humor and pathos in Silverman’s words, like skilled tightrope walkers. Over the course of the show, Grant performs the heaviest lift, adept at both petty bon mots of a fop and the raw silent emotion of a man pushed too far.

Weinstein and Modica serve as the heart of the show. The chemistry between them is built on the tension of an impossible situation: A person who wants for nothing and an entity whose purpose is to fulfill desires—and is also the actual devil.

As their verbal sparring begins to blur the lines between business and pleasure, the two soften into each other. Scratch is more of an eldritch door-to-door salesman than sinister demon (the world is cruel enough without his influence) and Weinstein plays up his almost-humanness. He's adept at his job, but out-of-touch with his own humanity, if such a thing exists. Modica as Elizabeth is guarded, quick with a snappy retort, but brimming with emotions that desire to be seen.

While the actors fill the stage with their oversized presences, Profile’s design team keeps things understated to let them shine. Scenic designer Peter Ksander encloses the Ellen Bye Studio in an elegant wooden paneling—a call back to the Jacobean era this work draws from—that serves as both Elizabeth’s small hut and Sir Arthur’s modest castle. It reinforces the "then-ish" setting Silverman describes in their script, anchoring the show in the past, but also creating a sense of comfort. The privacy of the home is where the characters grapple with their contradictions, where they are most themselves. Costumes by Ahmad Santos highlight Cuddy and Frank’s emotional journeys and add a layer of delightful and horrific absurdity to the inevitable conflict.

While Elizabeth opens the show with an offer of finding hope, Scratch closes it with his own harried monologue, desperate for a break from his work, unsure of how to find hope. In the world of Witch, things are falling apart. Peasants starve while lords feast, superstition rules, and everyone is defined by rigid expectations and hierarchies. What do you hope for in hard times? Making the most of what you have in the current system? Or do you hope that the slate gets wiped clean and we can start again? Decide now, the future depends on it.

Profile Theatre presents Witch at Ellyn Bye Studio in the Armory, 128 NW 11th, through Sun Nov 2, $49.77, tickets and showtimes, content warning for simulated violence.