DEATH OF A SALESMAN | PAVILION THEATRE, GLASGOW
★★★
‘As the world we know appears to crumble around us, there’s a timely resonance to this piece…’
Insecurity, love, and betrayal flow through the veins of Arthur Miller’s ‘modern’ tragedy, Death of a Salesman, as the great post-war American Dream begin’s to fade for the Loman family.
First staged in 1949 and set on America’s East Coast, New York to be precise, the piece is a powerful study of the human condition; specifically, family, purpose and ageing.
Removed from the company payroll and reduced to working for commission alone, Willy Loman is lost. In perpetual conflict with his elder son Biff, a conflict which threatens to tear the family asunder, his loss of respect and authority in both workplace and at home fuels a decline that is heart-breaking to witness. In the land of the free, where a man can be anything he desires if he works hard enough, dreams are made to be broken.
Regarded by many as Arthur Miller’s greatest work, Death of a Salesman, set over the last 24 hours of Loman’s life, is a long slog – this particular production runs for three hours, shaving ten to fifteen minutes off previous stagings. Hailed as one of the greatest pieces of theatre of the Twentieth Century, Miller’s play changed the face of the American stage of the 1940’s. Ground-breaking it reflected real life in a way not previously seen. Today it’s a period piece, of its time and often laboured.
At 77-years-old, Hayman presents a painfully fragile Willy Loman, a man physically and mentally frail. It’s a completely captivating creation. As the world moves on without him, robbing him of his identity and the ability to provide for his family, Loman’s descent into despair and madness, portrayed now as the tightening grip of dementia, is hard to watch. Hayman displays flashes of brilliance in a performance matched every step of the way by Beth Marshall, as his long-suffering but devoted wife, Linda.
As the prodigal son Biff, Daniel Cahill too brings moments of greatness to the fiery relationship he shares with his father. Elsewhere, performances are more workman-like, occasionally verging on melodrama – Willy’s successful older brother Ben, now a ghostly spectre of Loman’s mind, bustles his way through his scenes with great bluster.
Text driven, Andy Arnold’s contemplative direction serves to highlight the unlikable nature of Miller’s characters (only Linda evokes any real sympathy as she fights to balance her loyalties) and, combined with Rory Beaton’s simple lighting design and Neil Hayes’ minimalistic set, does little to bring a sense of place to the production; the staging is reminiscent of a student staging with cast members seated at either side of the stage when not required, some doubling as musicians to provide a live sound scape.
Miller believed the theatre was a place where ‘society’ should ‘come together to debate issues of public concern’. As the world order we know appears to crumble around us, it once more gives this piece a timely resonance, the story of a powerless individual, trapped and seeking peace of mind in a society driven by greed familiar still. To that end, Death of a Salesman remains pertinent, even if this production fails to always engage fully.
Death of a Salesman runs at Pavilion Theatre, Glasgow, until 9 March. Tickets here.
Tours to Festival Theatre, Edinburgh, 19-22 March. Tickets here.
