“The Crucible” remains on high-school reading lists for a reason.

Arthur Miller’s 1953 drama – in which a handful of schoolgirls turn Salem, Mass., into a whirl of witchcraft accusations and confusion – is an allegory for a witch hunt of another kind: U.S. Sen. Joseph McCarthy’s Cold War hunt for Communists in the government and the arts in the early 1950s.

Reading the play is one thing; seeing it is quite another.

There are school productions – Archbishop Stepinac High School in White Plains and Blind Brook High School in Rye Brook both staged it last weekend – but with a cast of nearly 20, professional troupes rarely stage it, the economics being prohibitive.

(Richard Eyre’s 2002 Broadway production starred Liam Neeson and Laura Linney.)

Along comes the Schoolhouse Theater in Croton Falls, a group brave enough to stage the Miller work and solid enough to make it shine.

Under the sterling direction of Schoolhouse artistic director Pamela Moller Kareman, 19 actors breathe life into the work, turning it into an edge-of-the-seat evening of theater. Even if you’ve read it, especially if you’ve read it, you should not miss “The Crucible” at the Schoolhouse.

It is a gigantic undertaking, putting 19 actors on a tiny stage – and the devil is in the details.

Kareman’s ingenious staging turns even off-stage moments into a revelation.

John Pollard’s simple and effective scenic design employs a planked platform two steps up from stage level.

Kareman has her players sit in the wings in full view of the audience: the men in one long row lining the stage-right wall, the women in one long row lining the stage-left wall. The separation makes several points immediately.

There is a fundamental, religious rigidity to the division – two long rows separated by gender.

Actors awaiting their entrances sit as silent, ever-watchful witnesses to the play, as many sat silently during the McCarthy era. Waiting.

The raised playing area also creates the feel of a boxing ring, where people have to step up to do battle, to be heard.

At the center of the action is John Procter, played by the excellent Simon MacLean, who played Doc in “Crimes of the Heart” at the Schoolhouse last spring.

Procter, a man whose hands aren’t exactly clean but whose sense of right is clear, requires an actor who can deliver nuance and passion, who can translate silences into meaning and, at the end, deliver a fiery and impassioned cry for justice. MacLean is equal to it all, finding just the right mix of confusion, tenderness and rage.

Watch in the final 15 minutes as MacLean goes from a quiet moment with his wife, Elizabeth – Sarah Bennett in an affecting, touching portrayal – to resignation, to an explosive, wrenching howl that seems to tear him apart.

It is riveting and indelible, and must be seen to be appreciated. (Neeson, on Broadway, seemed all howl.)

Bennett, as Elizabeth, is resolute. Her wounded marriage has devolved into profound silences, which she and MacLean make the most of.

In the final scenes, Bennett’s tears say what she cannot. Love means not judging when you have every right to judge.

The production values at the Schoolhouse are exceptional and the intimacy of the venue puts the audience right in the middle of the action.

Pollard’s set is overhung with massive beams, which frame the action simply. There’s little adornment at all, with earthenware jugs and wooden bowls among the few props.

David Pentz’s lighting makes full use of an upstage scrim for the opening dance and the evening’s final stage picture. At times, the tiny stage is bathed in moonlight; other times, the glare of attention requires full light.

Kim Matela’s costumes also help to set the mood. Just bonnets and breeches, but they transport us immediately to Salem, Mass., 1692.

With a cast of 19 excellent actors and first-rate direction, it’s hard not to name names.

As Abigail Williams, the scorned woman whose accusations started the whole affair, Sherry Stregack is a cold, calculating, designing woman – just what the part requires. In the court scenes, she sits stoically as events unfold, but you can see the wheels turning in her head. You know it’s just a matter of time before she begins to spin the story her way.

The girls who follow Abigail – Lauren Currie Lewis, Stephanie Bayliss and Jennifer Hildner – are eerily adept at conveying menace with every shriek and glassy-eyed accusation.

Sari Caine, as Mary Warren – Procter’s servant – is rock solid even as she plays a jumble of nerves and adolescent insecurity.

Kevin Albert, as the Rev. John Hale, nimbly conveys his character’s emerging disgust with the proceedings. As events get under way, he’s “looking for proper signs of the devil.” By the end, he’s utterly bewildered, pleading for justice. Albert’s performance is pitch perfect.

John Tyrrell plays Giles Corey – the man who won’t name names – with a mix of homespun charm and a wild eye.

As the upstanding Rebecca Nurse, Salem’s matriarch, Terry Ashe-Croft is the calm at the center of the storm, making the most of economical acting choices. She’s a study of doing much while seeming to do little.

David Licht has the unenviable role of Deputy-Governor Danforth, who leads the court and whose reputation rests on the value of its judgments. Licht brings a gravitas to the role, a bearing becoming the part. He proves a worthy adversary to MacLean’s Procter, a compelling blend of certainty and blind justice.

Rather than presenting Danforth as a complete blowhard, Licht is able somehow to show the judge as a man who actively pursues his brand of justice, which is arrived at after political considerations. He works hard to come to the wrong decisions, it seems. It’s an interesting choice and one that makes the character eminently watchable.

When, during his questioning of Procter, Licht intones: “What way do you go, mister?” it’s positively chilling.

Still, this is Procter’s story and the final moment is his.

After three hours of tension, the final tableau reveals a man of principle at peace with his decision.

When the lights come up in the auditorium, they reveal an audience that has been moved by the experience, more than they might have by reading a book.

After all, seeing is believing.

“The Crucible”
Where: The Schoolhouse Theater, 3 Owens Road, Croton Falls.
When: Weekends through Dec. 9. Performances are at 8 p.m. Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays, and 4 p.m. Sundays.
Tickets: $25 on Thursdays and Fridays, and $29 on Saturdays and Sundays.
Call: 914-277-8477.
Web: www.schoolhousetheater.org
With: Walita, Lauren Currie Lewis, Keith Barber, Sherry Stregack, Stephanie Bayliss, Cheryl Orsini, Bruce Smolanoff, Jennifer Hildner, Sari Caine, Simon MacLean, John Tyrrell, Terry Ashe-Croft, Kevin Albert, Sarah Bennett, George Kareman, David Rigo, David Licht, David Olan, Virginia Barber.