Review: Death of a Salesman
November 6, 2008
Date reviewed: 6th November 2008
Venue: York Theatre Royal
Although it is easy to contrive reasons why there has never been a better time to perform a given play, there seem to be some quite sound ones in the case of Death of a Salesman. As I watch it, Barack Obama is getting elected to the US presidency, yet a couple of months ago its government had to buy a bunch of rancid assets from its banks to try to navigate the country past the consequences of their untamed ambition. “The Americans really ought to make up their minds,” I had thought. “Does this ‘Dream’ of theirs work or not?” Perhaps Arthur Miller’s Pulitzer Prize-winning work from 1949 could disentangle the wires; director Damian Cruden was probably hoping so, at any rate.
There are some distractions during the first few minutes. The chief offender is the set. Presumably, it is meant to blend fluidly into the action but, given that it consists of two flaps on either side of the stage covered in mounds of window and door frame, skirting board and floral wallpaper all jutting out at angles to which even the most venal local council would never grant planning permission, this is not a realistic aim. Furthermore, Eileen O’Brien’s wobbly attempt at an east coast accent diverts the audience’s attention from what she is saying.
However, after a few vacillations between the most nasal New York and ascetically accent-free English, O’Brien settles for a mellowed edition of the former and, more importantly, into her part well. Linda Loman’s aggressively loyal concern for Willy is one of the foundations of the play’s sadness, and O’Brien portrays the tragedy of a wife who sees her husband’s decline but falters in her attempts to curb it with all the jaded, yet desperate, rawness that it deserves. Her performance is especially strong during Linda’s arguments with her eldest son, Biff (Joseph Rye), and the miserable final scene.
George Costigan’s Loman seems to be modelled fastidiously on that of Dustin Hoffman. Considering that Hoffman’s Loman won him a Golden Globe in 1986, this is scarcely a bad idea, but it is difficult to be thrilled by an actor’s performance when you do not feel that he has made a genuine attempt at a unique delivery of his part. Costigan’s is diligent and considered, but his suitability for the role is questionable. Aside from anything else, he doesn’t look like Willy Loman: his broad frame, reasonable height and tidy jaw do not project an image of whimsical failure. He looks a bit too adequate and has a little too much presence.
Apart from O’Brien’s, the most noteworthy performance is that of Phillip Langhorne (who also plays Stanley) as Howard. He is aided by the fact that Howard is the most directly symbolic of the play’s characters, but renders him not merely unfeeling and dismissive, but sinister. When Langhorne’s Howard instructs Loman to “pull yourself together”, he isn’t simply an inconvenienced businessman repulsed by the sight of an undependable employee trampling all over the decorum that his years are supposed to have conferred; he is faintly menacing.
The production grows in confidence as the performance progresses, and the main reason for this is clear. A greater portion of the second half takes place in Loman’s consciousness or memory than the first, and these sequences are generally more compelling. Costigan’s relationship with the Loman who takes refuge in his colourful imagination is more fruitful than the one he shares with the Loman who tries to float in the real world, and the possibilities of the stage and music are exploited most ably in the former’s case. It is probably this disparity that defines the production.
Yet despite being patchy, Cruden’s Salesman is gripping. Miller’s play deserves every sentence of the catalogue of praise that it has occasioned, and it does not require a magnificent production to command audiences. Never mind topicality: any time is a good time to produce Death of a Salesman.
-Simon Walker
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Spot on review. I was unmoved by the first half - disappointed at lost subtleties and a set that was trying to be too clever. The second half came to life and wandering accents were forgiven as the pace and emotions of the play picked up. I never found Costigan’s nasally and over-mannered performance convincing until his final scene with Biff which brought me to the edge of my seat. Upon reflection of course a good night out - it is a great play after all.