Death Of A Salesman at The Young Vic

A few yards down the road from The Old Vic and there’s another Arthur Miller classic playing.  It’s a very different production from a staging point of view but is just as powerful and beautifully done as its neighbour.  Of course, this is to be expected, as Marianne Elliott is in charge of direction alongside Miranda Cromwell.  The set is by designer of the moment, Anna Fleischle and, unlike her staging of Three Sisters at The Almeida, which left me cold, this latest design works a treat.

A parallel with All My Sons, apart from it being done in period, is the casting of an American actor in the title role of Willy Loman.  Wendell Pierce (Suits and The Wire amongst others) plays the salesman of the title and makes the part his own.  He is aided and abetted by the wondrous Sharon D. Clarke as his wife, Linda and the excellent Arinze Kene and Martins Imhangbe as their sons, Biff and Happy.  And that’s where Marianne Elliot has brought us a definitive Death of a Salesman and one not to be missed.  By making the Lomans an African American family, Arthur Miller’s 1949 play becomes even more relevant.  Not only is Willy having to battle with the ageing process, his seeming irrelevance in the work place and with his sons, but the colour of his skin doesn’t do him any favours in late 1940’s New York.  There is a particular point in the production when this really hits home.  Although no lines have been cut, there is a word I noticed that had been omitted. The original script has Willy relaying to Linda that someone has labelled him a shrimp, but here the sentence is left hanging in mid-air.  Her husband is unable to bring himself to say the name he was called out loud but we’re in no doubt that whatever it was alluded to the colour of his skin.  It’s a powerful moment, actually one of many and Pierce is to be applauded for inhabiting this iconic character so beautifully.

Again, Miller is alluding to the American dream which in Loman’s case is turning into a nightmare.  At 62 years old, he’s tired out with the job that entails him trawling across the country and is becoming increasingly aware that he’s not the expert salesman he thought he was.  Not that those around him have been given any hint that he has any self-doubt.  Miller’s story is heavy on the lies we tell ourselves and others and Loman is no exception.  The upbringing of his sons following the “don’t do as I do, do as I say” concept is as unsuccessful as his determination to be top dog at work. Happy Loman is a rather immature womaniser, whilst his older brother Biff, once a promising baseball player, has no ambition and no clear idea of where his life is going.    

The workplace isn’t the only aspect of Willy’s life where he doesn’t command any respect.  He lost that from Biff, the elder son, a long time ago when the eleven-year-old boy came across something his father was always trying to hide.  Thus, the built-up humiliation from all sides sees the older man cracking under the strain, not helped by the fact that he is more than likely suffering from the onset of some kind of dementia

The one constant in his life is Linda.  Sharon D. Clarke so very successfully portrays this strong, loyal and quietly determined woman as the nuts and bolts that hold the family together.  Such is the chemistry between Kene and Imhangbe that one is left in no doubt that these men, whilst very different in personality, are definitely the product of their father.  Kene is particularly affecting as the emotionally damaged Biff and his final show-down is heart-breaking to watch.  There are light hearted moments as when the play shifts from present to past.  Those historical moments depicting the sons as boys is cleverly realised by having them appear as if in an old-fashioned slide-show, with each new move preceded by a shutter click.  

I read a piece in the programme about Fleischle’s father committing suicide and how this shattering event influenced the way she designed the set.  The way windows and doors shift in and out of view, help to mirror Willy’s shifting state of mind.  Despite the fact that her vision of the Loman’s apartment is very much abstract, one is never in any doubt as to which room a character is inhabiting at any one time. Or that the family, or at least Willy, constantly feel trapped within its walls.  Aideen Malone’s lighting adds to the atmosphere, but it’s the music that most perfectly catches the mood of the play.  It opens with the entire cast singing a gospel hymn (thank heavens we get to hear Sharon D. Clarke and Arinze Kene enthral us with their wonderful voices) and at various stages throughout we’re treated to some jazz and blues courtesy of Musical Director Femi Temowo.  

A definite must see.