‘Death of a Salesman’

Press, 30 March 1989, Page 6

‘Death of a Salesman’

“Death of a Salesman,” by Arthur Miller, directed by William Cook for the Repertory Theatre. At the Repertory Theatre from Wednesday, March 29. Running time: 8 p.m. to 10.45 p.m. Reviewed by John Farnsworth.

For many years the debate raged over whether this celebrated American play represented the revival of the classical Greek tragedy in a modern guise. If this production is anything to go by, that argument seems increasingly beside the point. As it ages, the play looks more and more a creature of its period — a commentary on the smug, materialistic, hypocritical optimism of America in the 19505.

Interestingly, it also portrays the bleak realities, in these more-market days, of the human failures of the system.

Here, it is Willie Loman, past 60, who is all but beaten by the struggle as a salesman on the roads out of New York. His comfort is his fantasies, which are constantly undermined by the quarrels with his two deadbeat adult sons, his exhaustion and the humiliation of his unpaid bills. Sustained by his wife and supported by an understanding cousin he despises, he flits between memories, delusions and the hard facts of his business failures. It is this dimension which is the very real strength of this peformance. It is an

uneven production, but one with solid heart.

Much of that is due to the presence of Mervyn Glue as Willie Loman. This is a portrayal which is rough, honest and passionate and it pulls the rest of the cast along with it. This, in spite of an awkward set, which pushes the cast either up to the gods or on to the forestage to negotiate it. Performance aside, credit belongs to William Cook’s direction, which carefully paces the developing tension and draws out some co-ordinated performances. This is particularly true of Jenny Glue as Willie’s wife, who is impressive in her outburst in Willie’s defence.

Jeremy Flint is a suitably smarmy younger son, while Laurence Dolan overcomes his obvious inexperience in the difficult role of Biff to produce a thoroughly convincing portrait of an intense, wounded character. Elsewhere, Ralph Scott, Robert Britten and Chris Knight play solid supporting roles. But the sustaining note lies very much in Mervyn Glue’s grand performance. It is not without its slips and unexpected additions to Miller's text, but it is marked by moments of genuine pathos. More than that, it seems to stamp a particular character on this production which gives it a convincing determination and commitment that brings the spirit of Miller’s writing to life.