★★★★★ Death of a Salesman
Arthur Miller, who has been prominently featured of late on major London stages, finishes the season with a smashing Death of a Salesman at the Young Vic. This from co-directors Marianne Elliott (whose work includes War Horse, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, the recent Angels in America, and the hopefully soon-to-transfer Company) and Amanda Cromwell (Elliott’s associate director on the latter two productions).
Some have suggested this is a black Salesman, but that is not the case. The Loman family is, indeed, cast with black actors; Charlie, Ben, Howard, and some of the others are white. The play is performed with little indication of skin color or alteration, although some moments bring intriguingly different connotations. But don’t call it a “black” Salesman; just an excellent Salesman.
Said excellence starts at the very top, with Wendell Pierce. An American whose varied career includes roles in The Wire, Suits, and Selma, he has extensive stage experience and served as a coproducer of Clybourne Park and August Wilson’s Radio Golf. From his first moment on stage—a defeated hulk of a man in silhouette, carrying those two heavy sample cases—we are immediately in the presence of Willy Loman, the “real” Willy Loman.
He is evenly matched by Sharon D. Clarke as Linda. Clarke, too, has a long list of stage and TV credits, including what I’m told were astounding Olivier-winning performances in James Baldwin’s The Amen Corner and last season’s Caroline, Or Change. Clarke’s Linda is all restraint, as written; but when she lets go in anger at her sons, we see thundering ferocity. Attention, yes, must be paid.
The sons are well played by Arinzé Kene as Biff and Matins Imhangbe as Happy. (Elliott and Cromwell effectively stage key moments of the youthful flashbacks with stop action, photo-flash poses.) Trevor Cooper, as Charley, makes a good foil to this Willy. Ian Bonar is a fine Bernard, Joseph Mydell slides through the action as the white-suited Uncle Ben, and Matthew Seadon-Young is properly infuriating as Howard. Also of note is Maggie Service, braying through her role as the “The Woman” in Willy’s hotel room. One of the few times that a racial component comes into the play is when Loman rushes her into the washroom, explaining that the house detective mustn’t find her in his hotel room.
A major directorial choice has been to add jazz and spirituals to piece. Salesman was written to include music, of course; in this case, they have added voices to the mix. (Femi Temowo serves as composer, musical director, and onstage musician.) This works well throughout, and pays off exhilaratingly in the final moments when Linda Loman sings the spiritual which has been threaded through the play. Did they cast Clarke because she could do this so well? Or did they add it when they realized how brilliantly she could enhance the final curtain?
Given Elliott’s prior productions, it is no surprise that she has ordered up an intriguing setting from Anna Fleischle (whose award-winning set for Martin McDonagh’s Hangmen was seen in New York, all too briefly, at the Atlantic). The stage is dominated by eight diverse window frames suspended at different heights and angles, along with several suspended tables and chairs; playing areas are magically formed by flying in relevant windows and furniture with assistance from lighting designer Aideen Malone.
The Young Vic run quickly sold out. Tickets are already on sale for a West End transfer to the Piccadilly in October, so readers planning a fall jaunt should get their seats sooner rather than later. (You can purchase tickets from the online box office here.)
There have been numerous memorable productions of Miller’s masterpiece since it opened at the Morosco in 1949. These include four Broadway revivals, starring George C. Scott (1975), Dustin Hoffman (1984), Brian Dennehy (1999), and Philip Seymour Hoffman (2012). Which is to say that there have been multiple “great” productions of the play; there’s something in the writing that inspires excellence, I suppose. This Young Vic staging might not be the best ever, but it belongs on this distinguished list.
★★★★ The Hunt
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark, as all good schoolchildren know. The Hunt, the latest from Rupert Goold and the Almeida, begins with eight villagers crowded into what appears to be a sweat lodge or sauna; they’re yelling, singing, and emerging to run laps in the supposedly frigid air in their underwear. We also see what appears to be a ceremonial deer-man, with prodigious antlers. All this before the events of the story start.
Lucas (Tobias Menzies) is a nursery school teacher in a small, dark, depressed Denmark town where everybody knows everybody, so much so that it is common knowledge that his wife has left him and taken along their 14-year-old son. The irresistibly likable Lucas is everyone’s friend, even Clara’s, the young daughter of his closest pal Theo (Justin Salinger) and his wife Mikala (Poppy Miller). The latter are in a love-hate relationship, with the emphasis on hate; so much so that Clara is more emotionally attached to quasi-uncle Lucas.
Given the ominous nature of the opening scenes, we are not surprised when something rotten indeed occurs. Clara, who is clearly damaged by her parents’ vicious battling, turns to Lucas for comfort in a chilling, uncomfortably adult manner. Lucas carefully and caringly explains to the 6-year-old that this is not proper, but the damage is done. Clara innocently mentions the non-incident to another teacher, with “concerned” adults prompting her to concoct a full, graphic accusation. And prompting several classmates to make the same accusation, repeating Clara’s “evidence” verbatim. The thoroughly innocent Lucas is appalled; the community ostracizes him; and his pals, the hunters, literally hunt him.
Yes, we have seen similar plays, going back to Lillian Hellman’s The Children’s Hour in 1934. In the present case, though, the accused is clearly innocent (we watched, on stage, the supposed incident), and the accuser is neither vindictive nor malignant, simply a confused child. So at one and the same time we want Lucas cleared, but we certainly don’t want to think bad of the girl. Lucas is torn between his innocence and his unwillingness to brand Clara a liar.
All of this is explosively staged by Almeida artistic director Goold, best known stateside for King Charles III and Ink. Key to the staging is the work of Es Devlin. Her design for The Lehman Trilogy—presently on the West End boards, hopefully with a return to New York in its future—features a massive glass cube on a turntable within which the action is set. The Hunt features a cube far smaller, though large enough to thoroughly dominate the small Almeida stage. This serves as lodge, sauna, barroom, schoolroom, house, and more. It comfortably holds three or four, which allows Goold to accentuate the claustrophobic nature of the proceedings by cramming in the entire cast of eleven. As in Ink, Neil Austin’s lighting is a key component of the evening.
Menzies gives a masterful performance as the innocent schoolteacher, tortured by the mere existence of the accusation. Salinger and Miller, who start out as typical spouses-gone-bad, work their way into moving performances as they realize that their good friend Lucas is a better “parent” to Clara than they are. Michele Austin is impressive as a warm and trusting teaching colleague drawn into the false accusation against her will. Three children alternate in the role of Clara; Taya Tower, who performed at press night, is quietly breathtaking.
As of the play’s premiere at the Almeida, there is still a lack of clarity in the material. The prominent hunting imagery, and all those men in deer masks, are at this point unconvincing. And the ending, which I suppose is intended to be ambiguous, is perhaps a bit too ambiguous. What exactly happens as the lights fall? Does the author want to leave us guessing? Does he actually know what happens?
The Danish locale is not accidental. The script is adapted by David Farr from the 2012 film Jagten, directed by Thomas Vinterberg with a screenplay by Tobias Lindholm. The Almeida enjoyed a major success with their 2004 adaptation of Vinterberg’s 1998 film Festen, which likely served as catalyst for this project. A little clarification by playwright and director might be warranted, but The Hunt is already an arresting and provocative evening.
Death of a Salesman opened May 9, 2019 at the Young Vic (London) and ran through July 13. It transferred October 24 to the Piccadilly, and runs through January 4, 2020. Tickets and information: youngvic.org
The Hunt opened June 26, 2019 at the Almeida Theatre (London) and runs through August 3. Tickets and information: almeida.co.uk
