Watching the new Broadway revival of Death of a Salesman is like witnessing a battle to the death between Arthur Miller’s enduring classic and the directorial conceits constantly threatening to undermine it. By the end of the overlong evening, Salesman has thankfully won out, as it almost always does. But just barely.
That’s due to both the brilliance of this great American drama and the powerful lead performances by Wendell Pierce (The Wire) and Sharon D Clarke (Caroline, or Change), who also starred as Willy and Linda Loman in this production’s London incarnation. Thanks to their sterling work, the play’s deeply felt humanism still manages to shine through brightly.
It’s touch and go, however, since director Miranda Cromwell (who co-directed in London with Marianne Elliott) seems intent on imposing theatrical stylizations that call more attention to her contributions than the text. This starts from the very beginning, when a musician strumming a guitar strolls onstage to accompany several of the actors singing. In the climactic scene set at Willy Loman’s grave, Linda and Biff (Khris Davis) break out into a gospel song, accompanied by the sounds of a choir. At other points in the show, Willy sings a jaunty blues number, and his brother Ben, seen in Willy’s hallucinations, launches into a rendition of the Gershwins’ “They Can’t Take That Away from Me.” It’s enough to make you think you’re watching Death of a Salesman: The Musical.
[Read Steven Suskin’s ★★★☆☆ review here.]
All of these additions, and more, make the already lengthy play feel even longer. Adding insult to injury, the production utilizes enough nightmarish lighting and sound effects to service a Halloween haunted house attraction. And during the flashback scenes, the actors repeatedly freeze in place as we hear the sounds of cameras clicking. (I don’t know about you, but my memories aren’t filled with paparazzi).
Then there’s the depiction of Ben, Willy’s older brother who supposedly walked into the jungle at age 17 and emerged rich four years later. Andre De Shields has apparently been directed to perform the role as if he’s still playing Hermes in Hadestown. Clad in an all-white suit, sparkly shoes and enough bling on his fingers to make the Kardashians envious, De Shields preens rather than acts and proves thoroughly jarring whenever he’s onstage.
Then there’s the sensitive matter that the Lomans are all played by Black actors. Nothing wrong with that in this age of color-blind casting, but the fact that most of the other actors are Caucasian adds a subtext that Miller obviously never intended. When Willy asks his boss Howard (Blake DeLong) if he can work at the home office rather than go on the road, the young man humiliates him in a manner far harsher than the way the scene is customarily played, making it hard for us not to think that racial prejudice factors into his hostility. Perfectly credible, but nothing to do with the play as written.
Everything in the production seems pitched over the top, including Willy’s declining mental condition, which here feels more like full-blown dementia than merely a man defeated by life who is losing his grip. The flashback scene in which Willy is discovered by Biff (Khris Davis) to be in a hotel room with another woman (Lynn Hawley) is bizarrely played for laughs, with the woman loudly cackling in demented fashion. Throughout the evening, the actors frequently shout their lines, as if not trusting us to appreciate the dialogue.
It’s a shame, because Pierce and Clarke deliver tremendous performances that keep us emotionally engaged despite the production’s gimmicks. The former uses his Everyman quality to deliver a Willy who is achingly vulnerable, making us care deeply about him despite his misguided bluster, while the latter brings a fierceness to Linda that makes her despair at her husband’s needless death all the more moving. As Biff and Happy, Davis and McKinley Belcher III are less revelatory, but they nonetheless hit all the right notes, while several of the supporting players make vivid impressions.
In the hands of great lead actors, such as it is here, Death of a Salesman still proves devastating with its Greek tragedy-like power. That is, if a director knows enough to stay out of its way.
Death of a Salesman opened October 9, 2022, at the Hudson Theatre and runs through January 15, 2023. Tickets and information: salesmanonbroadway.com
