Death of a Salesman

Reviewed by Holly Bartges

Yelling does not necessarily make for intense emotion. It only signifies yelling. Above and beyond everything else what is remembered about the Aurora Fox’s current production of Arthur Miller’s Death of A Salesman is the yelling primarily by Willy Loman played haltingly by William Denis.

Death of a Salesman at the Aurora Fox.

In spite of the millions of plays written, Death of A Salesman remains the great American play. Miller captured the heart and soul of the elusive American Dream through the aging of Willy who loses his grip on living in a world that no longer exists. Technology rushes past his once upon a time salesman technique. His dream of importance, of making sales from a hotel room lounging in green velvet slippers, slips into oblivion.

For Director Chip Walton, artistic director of Curious Theatre Company, Death of A Salesman could well be a production that was a might too big for his expertise to chew on. Miller’s depth, intelligence and insight into human nature plastered in the American scene do not have room to move and grow and magically capture the essence of this play’s soul.

Willy has often been seen as a victim of age, a victim of a world growing too big and too fast for him to keep up with. He has been thrown away like an old shoe because technology is more important than the human spirit.

Au contraire.

Willy lived in a dream that didn’t exist. He pinned high hopes on Biff (Bret Aune) over a high school football game. He ignored Happy (Ed Cord) who frequently tried to get Willy’s attention with “Look, Pop, I’m losing weight.” He yelled at Linda (Karen Erickson) for always having to mend her stockings while he supplied silk stockings to The Woman (Rebecca Gibel) in his hotel room who wasn’t after his attention as she was for the stockings. He lived on excuses. It was OK to ply The Woman for attention because he was lonely. (Poor Baby) He thought he deserved special attention from Howard Wagner (Phil Luna) because he and Howard’s father had been such good friends, and he held Howard when he was a baby. He was willing to subject himself to humiliation by taking $50.00 a week from Charley (Kurt Soderstrom), and pretend it was his salary. He shakes Biff to his high school core when Biff finds The Woman in Willy’s hotel room with the silk stockings and Willy is never able to add two and two to decipher what caused Biff to give up on everything. He makes fun of Bernard (Matt Zambrano) as the silly geek, and when Bernard becomes a successful lawyer is stunned when Bernard doesn’t have the time of day for him.

Linda lives in a dream world of pretending her two sons are best friends. She takes Willy’s constant abuse of yelling. She consistently makes excuses for him.

None of the main characters in this play take any responsibility for themselves. It is always someone else’s fault.

Because of its place in history, Death of a Salesman has to be one of the most difficult plays to produce, direct and act. There are skillions of ghosts of other times and other places. There are skillions of interpretations.

At best, this production is rocky.

Denis stumbles over several lines while substituting yelling for heart-breaking emotion on a variety of different spectrums. Yelling does not emotion convey.

Although the characters are suppose to be walking on eggs with each other at times, although there are obvious wide gulfs between them, there needs to be and wants to be a sense of strong chemistry between the actors. This does appear to be the case in this production. The actors seem estranged and isolated from each other, looking uncomfortable more often than not. In several scenes when Linda is on the periphery, listening to Willy’s confrontation or walking his talk in his dream world Erickson looks stilted and uncomfortable. The tormented housewife disappears with uncertainty and stiffness.

Joe Wilson comes on strong as Uncle Ben, Willy’s wealthy older brother who got lost trekking to Alaska and ended up discovering diamonds in Africa.

Zambrano gives an outstanding performance as Bernard, the nerdy high school scholar, bugging Biff to study then growing to a highly successful lawyer.

Gibel’s Woman nails her intentions to the hotel wall. She knows exactly what she wants and how to get it, and when Biff catches her in the hotel room, she makes her departure firm and final. In a short space of time Gibel knows how to define this woman.

Luna knows where Howard’s “butter is breaded on.” He knows and understands business. He’s excited over developing technology. He carries empathy for Willy until he is pushed to the wall. Luna gives substance to Howard that frequently is ignored. Howard is generally played with a cold heartless attitude, but in this production Luna gives a glimpse of a man with a heart and soul surrounded by limitation. He has covered for Willy long enough. He allows him to stay with the company for commission without salary. But even the most bleeding heart liberal has to understand when it is time to say “no more,” and Luna gives this in Howard.

Michael R. Duran’s set design is a brilliant concept for the 1940s Loman’s house and yard in Brooklyn with ample allowance to move the scenes into various locations in New York and Boston. Setting Biff and Happy’s bedroom at the top of the set behind screens provides a tone of anxiety, despair and expectation the actors alone cannot provide. Coupled with El Armstrong’s sound effects, some emotion and feeling float above the production that can only otherwise be guessed at.

There are some strong outstanding moments especially provided by Aune and Cord as Biff and Happy struggle for their place in the sun. Aune works hard at capturing the intense Biff, and at crystallizing the cast, but it takes more than one actor to create chemistry.

In spite of the rough edges, this production of Death of A Salesman should not be ignored. The rough edges actually provide probing teasing thoughts.