Arthur Miller's treatise on the American Dream is visceral and stands the test of time. It is a beautifully crafted piece of theatre which manages to demonstrate to anybody who wishes to witness it that theatre has the power to transform not just our opinions but also our understanding of humanity within the context of how other people might frame success. Given the times that we are in at the moment, particularly within America, this is an apposite opportunity to review how the American Dream has destroyed people.
The destruction of Willy Loman is up front and centre from the very beginning. David Hayman manages to craft a performance from an impressive opening study of vulnerability. Knowing that Willy is going to self-destroy and that the ending that is coming is particularly terrible, Hayman keeps us on that emotional rollercoaster, and we hold on for grim death—his grim death. I could also hear the two women, who apparently at the interval of the very first performance of Death of a Salesman, were overheard asking each other, “what happens if he really doesn’t make the sales?” The spirit of vulnerability, naiveté and theatrical power is alive and very much kicking.
Death of a Salesman is a piece of writing which is a craft in itself. The ability to shape scenes and show how characters work between each other is something that should be studied by anybody wanting to write a play. But it requires more than just that writing. Resonance comes from giving that writing an opportunity to be crafted into something that stands on its merits today.
Andy Arnold in his show notes talks about wanting to have done this at the Tron when he arrived there but being unable to do so due to the size of the cast. And you can see how having those shackles that were placed upon a creative director taken off has led to an opportunity to view a larger than most performance filled with Scottish ability, which is something to be triumphed, marvelled at and celebrated.
The entire cast have approached this with such care and attention. This is an exceptionally well-crafted piece of theatre.
I have always believed that Death of a Salesman was as much about the destruction of Biff as it was about Willy himself. The fact that by the end, Happy is continuing that dream in Willy's stead whilst Biff is attempting to regain himself shows just exactly how much Arnold and his cast have understood the subtext of Miller's play. Daniel Cahill has given such a nuanced, though raging, performance with that emotion never overspilling into a point where it becomes clichéd but remains a simmering undercurrent of disappointment is consistently impressive.
As Happy, Michael Wallace manages to give us that naïvety that is similarly admirable. As Linda, Beth Marshall supplies a woman with tragedy, not naïve, but who uses that blindside to continue to believe, which many people will look down upon and frown upon, but she exhibits a huge amount of love. She is humanity, allowing us to understand the tragedy that she sees unfold in front of her and is left bereft at the end of it.
Gavin Jon Wright as Bernard, Benny Young as Charley gives us that next door neighbour, over the fence contrast of the people who look on with pity and disdain on Willy himself. Simon Donaldson, Charlene Boyd, Stuart Ennis as Ben, Fay Guiffo, Barry Newsome and Gillian Massey give us an incredible and strong ensemble piece.
Death of a Salesman comes at a time when we are looking over at America and shaking our collective heads. We are looking over at America and wondering what it is that they are up to and why they think the way that they are behaving should be allowed to not just be endorsed but indulged. Death of a Salesman reminds us that there are critical voices in America that stood up at the time and said this is wrong in ways that we are lacking just now. It is a strong reminder that theatre also has that power and ability to give us the truth of the effect of humanity when it is handed the worst excesses of capitalism.
The set, as stripped down as it is, troubles me slightly, and I think at times it is too stripped down because there were lost opportunities to feel the claustrophobia of the circumstances in a physical presence. The final 24 hours of Willy Loman’s life, unfolding in front of it, at times needed more of a presence. I did like the large tree at the back of the set hanging over the narrative as a form of reminder of better times.
The live music is a delight. It is absolutely gorgeous from beginning to end, and I really felt that there was a filmic quality to how the presentation was enhanced by that music.
Here, the little man falls. This writing giant tells us exactly why we should take arms metaphorically against it. Raw Material and Trafalgar Theatre has given us a tremendous piece of theatre based on a classic text of which we should see more, stock filled with Scottish artists—strengths to be applauded and celebrated.
Andy Arnold got his chance after all to come back to this classic that he is more than a match for, and I look forward to when Arnold is to develop the next one, which will be just as exciting as the handouts that were given out at the end of January from Creative Scotland.