It may not have been the production that I wanted, but here goes---
Perceptions, real or missed, flutter all around viewers like blinking fireflies at this production of Arthur Miller's "Death Of A Salesman," now playing at, of all places, the Winter Garden. But more on that, later.
This play runs a solid three hours, including Intermission, and, girls, let me tell you it is no emotional picnic.
Let's start first with the positives. Not a word of Arthur Miller's text has been changed. Would anyone dare? First appearing in 1949, it spoke to the postwar generation of Americans specifically, which is why, when postwar Americans began teaching my generation, the Baby Boomers, this play was incorporated into almost every humanities course I took from junior high on. I wondered how it would hold up today, and I was happy to see, as I entered the theater a group of teens, obviously from some school, enter in front of me, chattering like teens do. This signaled to me that in some schools the play is still being taught and studied. I found this encouraging.
I also found the acting encouraging. Nathan Lane, playing Willy Loman, was, when I saw it, during the first week of previews, still attempting to find himself in the role, which I expect he will eventually, because, in Act One, when it got to the first memory scene, I stopped seeing Nathan and saw Willy Loman. And he was even better in the second act.
But, hons, Laurie Metcalf, as Linda Loman, hits the stage running. For me, this performance was her show. She brings to Linda things I never realized, while dispelling others. I had always viewed Linda as the American Theater's Greatest Martyr or possible enabler, but Metcalf shows audiences a woman of strength and most of all love for her husband, in spite of his flaws and failures, all of which are carefully laid out in the course of this drama. It is to Metcalf's credit as an actress not only that she offers a fresh take on Linda, but that, when offstage, she is deeply missed.
The remaining players are a mixture of good and bad. The casting of the sons makes sense, but Ben Ahlers in the role of Happy, even though he is not, despite having his own place, which I forgot, a stabled job and access to women, overshadows Christopher Abbott, as Biff, and this should not be the case. The electricity of these father-son scenes come not from the actors, but Arthur Miller's writing. Suffice it to say that the rest of the cast does serviceable work, but except for Miss Metcalf no one rises above the occasion.
And whose fault is this? Joe Mantello, the director. Let me tell you something, girls, I would like to go right up to him and tell him to his face all the ways he went wrong with this production. Why am I so vehement? Because, for years, the word on the street, darlings, is that Mantello directs through intimidation. Think of Jerome Robbins. You think you can intimidate me, Mantello???????? Let's see you try.
How doth his direction go wrong? Girls, let me count the ways!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
For starters, whose dumb idea was it to book this play into the Winter Garden? The home of classics like "Mame" and "FOLLIES," the cavernous stage does not serve this play well. Ninety plus percent of the entire piece is performed downstage center. The sons' beds are at stage left and right. But there are vast empty and unused spaces, with debris from the past up against the brick wall. Why? Save for entrances or exits, no one goes near that area.
The first thing I noticed coming in were a series of rectangular columns on stage. I thought they were going for Greek tragedy, which was OK. Later, I realized they were used as a visual metaphor for rising apartment buildings crowding out the Lomans tiny house in their Brooklyn neighborhood. This might be fine, if the stage were not so vast and cavernous. Do these Lomans live in a gentrifying neighborhood or a suite at The Pierre. Thanks to Mantello, it is anyone's guess!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
His biggest mistake is not realizing the play takes place in 1949. Let's start with the least annoying items. In the scene with The Woman, and the sons' scene with "their women," the actresses are really not dressed in fashions of the time. One of the prostitutes, very attractive, is dressed in a garment that clings appealingly to her body, buts look like it came out of mod London of the Sixties!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! None of these gals look their parts. Who is to blame? The costume designer, Rudy Mance, or Joe Mantello? My money is on the latter, as he probably told, or browbeat Mance, into designing what he wanted. Again, pay attention to Miller's text, as 1949 references abound throughout.
Interesting is John Drea, so good in "Little Bear Ridge Mountain," with Metcalf, is not successful as Howard Wagner, the boss' son, who cruelly dismisses Willy. Note that word, darlings, because Drea's performance does not contain enough cruelty in it, nor does Lane fall, Lear fashion, as he should in this scene. What should be heartbreaking is clinically cold and not moving. And how come Charlie and Bernard are the only Black actors on the stage? If going for diversity, as is the rule these days, why not cast more diverse actors in other parts? What's up, Joe? Hmmmmmmm?
The greatest error of all faces everyone, stage right, throughout the entire production. This is a recreation of a car garage, with the car sticking out, as if ready to go anytime. To those who know, this is a visual foreshadowing of the proclaimed death in the title, as well as a symbol of Willy's profession. However, the car staring out at the audience, as if about to re-enact a scene from Stephen King's "Christine," is not of 1949 vintage, but 1964!!!!!!!!!!!! What is wrong with you people? Didn't you read the text? Does anyone care about historic accuracy anymore??????????? Again, I blame Mantello.
It is Willy's suicide that turns out to be the worst, most egregious moment in the show. And it should not have been. Of course, it is foreshadowed throughout--references to other attempts, the finding of a tube, or a noosed rope--so I am not committing a spoiler here, but when the time comes, well.........................
The moment is so anticlimactic. Willy walks out of the house, into the car, turns the key in the ignition, and slowly backs up into the garage, as the door closes down on him. It is at that moment that the audience, especially those teens in the mezzanine, applaud tremendously. Over a suicide? Did they understand what is taking place? Because, again, Mantello's staging omits clarity. If Willy is carbon monoxiding himself, we should see some smoke come out from underneath the garage. Also, Linda and the sons sleep through this? In most productions, the suicide occurs backstage, with Willy, by sound effects, crashing the car into a tree, while Linda and sons simultaneously scream and cry out. Here, there is quiet, applause, and then the cemetery.
Mantello also fails to make clear the reason for his suicide. There was a method to his madness, darlings! He realizes he is worth more dead than alive and kills himself so his family can collect on a $20K (a considerable sum for 1949) insurance policy. And the way he does the death deed, proving it suicide would be difficult.
I don't care if Mantello wants to try something new. But Joe hon, you have to make things clear to the audience. Like Arthur Miller does with his writing. Which is why I am glad to finally see this play on stage. It will stand the test of time.
I have hope Nathan and Company (Metcalf is already there) will improve in their performances. I have no doubt they will.
But, Mr. Mantello, if any of the forthcoming reviews of this show are like mine, it is on you, and you alone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Chop, chop, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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