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I like my theater bleak and waiting to die.
The type that breaks down into the best of dark despairs: naked, horrifying tragedy and the fatalism of a crippling reality. “Death of a Salesman” is all of that. It also happens to be one of the best plays ever written.
The American Dream has long been dissected and scrutinized, but has done it quite so well as writer Arthur Miller did in 1949.
The characters are simple and the tragedy is complex. The play possesses layers upon layers of delusion and sorrow in which the only hope is false and denial is king.
It also makes for a really good date.
Willy Loman is the man you get to watch slowly die, a tired and deluded salesman with the weight of years of mistakes deciding his ultimate fate. The genius of Miller’s writing is that he finds some way to make Willy noble as well. It is painful to watch someone lie to himself so profusely, but there is also beauty in seeing his dreams.
The Vortex Theatre cast really punches the right guts and jerks the right tears. Willy’s wife Linda, played by Lorri Oliver, is simply phenomenal. Linda is the moral center of the play, and Oliver owns the part. Her quality and control of diction and tone are positively engrossing, and from sweet to powerful, her voice demands your attention.
Tyler Strand expertly performs Charley, the voice of reason. The success of Charley and his son Bernard — a nerdily effective Theodore Hamblin — creates the tragedies and insecurities of Willy and his own two sons.
Biff, played by Richard Boehler, and Happy, played by Paul Hunton, represent a legacy for Willy that is ultimately fictitious. Biff is the only character to break from the stifling delusion of society and his father’s interpretation and enactment of the American Dream. Happy is the true legacy for Willy’s deluded destruction, having learned from his father’s mistakes by the end of the play. There are some rough patches for the two actors, though they find plenty of solid moments throughout the play as well.
Director James Cady comes in for small cameos as a romanticized figment of Willy’s dead older brother Ben, found deep in the recesses of Willy’s gently dying synapses. Cady is remarkably engaging as a young boy’s heroic fantasy, complete with a ‘40s movie star voice.
Even the bit parts are enjoyable, with Janine O’Neill and Christy Burbank playing a lovely pair of prostitutes and John Lopez playing a waiter who just tries too hard. Joni Lloyd’s titillating laughter will get a rise out of you for sure, and Tim Riley’s single scene as the schmuck boss Howard is also welcome.
Willy himself is portrayed by Philip J. Shortell. Willy Loman is a difficult part and requires much of an actor, and for his performance, Shortell deserves praise. While the storytelling involves flashback and outright fantasy, it’s all within the memory and context of Willy. When Willy is not onstage, the other characters are talking about him.
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This is perhaps some of the best and most subtle work in the Vortex’s production repertoire. The 1949 Pulitzer Prize winner is deeply psychological, and the staging and use of light express this beautifully. In the scenes of sinful indulgence, there is a thick, tawdry light that flushes the scene. Each transition slides effortlessly from the now to remembrance to hallucination and back. The play floats as Willy floats, and the audience floats with him.
Shortell must be this man in all his vulnerabilities and ideals and madness and sadness, and he truly is. It may make you cry.
Miller has written a character that is a badge of theater careers, like Hamlet or Tevye. The sickness and horror of Willy Loman is the sickness and horror of America. His is an everyman’s anthem, terrible and ugly, but freeing, as the truth often is.
