In the pantheon of American Playwrights, only Eugene O'Neill, Tennessee Williams and Thornton Wilder, can rival the artistic and cultural significance of Arthur Miller. In 1947, "Death of a Salesman" won the second Tony Award for Best Play and the Pulitzer Prize. In the years since, such stars as George C. Scott, Dustin Hoffman, Brian Dennehy, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, and John Malkovich have appeared in subsequent revivals; all told the five Broadway productions of "Death of a Salesman" have won 21 major awards, including 12 Tonys.
Despite the pedigree, the
Mad Cow Theatre's production of "Death of a Salesman," running through August 25th, is an uneven production that, nonetheless, features exemplary performances. The majority of the actors in the show were exceptionally strong, however, there were a number of directorial choices that seem unusual. I have to admit, that despite having seen numerous productions of Miller's other two most prominent works, "All My Sons" and "The Crucible," I had never seen "Death of a Salesman" before visiting Mad Cow this week. Like "All My Sons," "Death of a Salesman" examines the complicated relationship between a flawed father and the son that once idolized him, and how that strained relationship impacts those around them.
Willy Loman, the titular salesman, is a sad, insecure man whose habitual lying and ever increasing delusions have put immense strain on every relationship in his life; especially with his loving and dutiful wife Linda (played by the exceptional
Robin Olson), who is worried about his growing depression and increasingly erratic behavior. His drifter eldest son Biff (Matt Horohoe), who once adored him, now carries a secret that shattered the illusion of his father, and with the addition to his younger philandering son Happy (Daniel Cooksley), the Loman men create an unreliable narration that forces the audience to question everything that they are told.
As the tired and aging traveling salesman,
Eric Zivot takes on one of the most storied roles in American theatrical history. Loman is a man who values style far over substance, and has spent his entire life instilling that into his two sons. However, now that he is older, Loman struggles to hold on to reality. One of the highlights of the show is seeing Zivot seamlessly transition from the elderly man, whose body and mind are failing him, to the younger, more energetic individual in flashbacks. Unfortunately, the three characters (Biff, Happy, and Bernard, played by Peter Travis) who are seen as both teenagers and adults, do not handle the transition as well. For teenagers at the end of their high school careers, the boys act far too young, almost infantile. These scenes are often played for laughs, however, instead of silly jokes, the text instead seems to be trying to illuminate the sobering differences between what was and what is.
As the long-suffering Linda, Olson delivers the most consistently affecting performance in the show. Her eternal optimism in the face of her husband's failings is simultaneously inspiring and heartbreaking.
Despite the odd teenage scenes, Horohoe is stellar as Biff. You always are able to see, and empathize with, his internal battle between what he wants for himself and his father's dreams of what could be.
The remainder of the ensemble provides strong support for the Loman family. Mark Edward Smith, as Willy's more successful brother Ben; Thom Mesrobian, as his neighbor Charley; and Becky Eck as The Woman, chief amongst them.
While the main themes of pride, truth, and the American Dream are still evident in this production, it seems as though there are a number of missed opportunities that prevent the show from reaching its full potential. In a number of moments, for example: in Happy's repeated assertions that he is going to settle down and get married, the focus seems to be squarely on the simpler aspects of the characters, rather than the deeper motivations that truly drive the drama.
The set by
William Elliot makes the most of Mad Cow's small stage with an abstract look at a cramped, dingy urban home. The sound design by Kurt Wagner is most evident during the scenes of Willy's greatest confusion. The jazz riffs that are intended to add intensity to Willy's most incoherent moments, only serve to add more noise and confuse the action.
There is a lot to appreciate in Mad Cow's production of this American stage classic, however, I can't help but feel that the true depth of this masterpiece is left untapped, despite a cast of extremely talented actors. To get tickets call
407-297-8788 or visit Mad Cow Theatre's
website.
Photo: Daniel Cooksley, Eric Zivot, Matt Horohoe
Photo Credit: Mad Cow Theatre
