By Carol Davis
SAN DIEGO—If Willy Loman knew that only his family attended his funeral he would have been perplexed. He was sure the friends he cultivated from all over the northeast (his territory) would attend. Willy shaped his entire life around the theory that if you were liked and you made your way on a ‘smile and a shoeshine’ you could have it all.
Willy Loman was a salesman. He was an average guy, well liked, salt of the earth and easy to get along with; forget what was in his samples cases. He was convinced that success would follow him because of his faith in the American Dream.
Arthur Miller’s Pulitzer Prize and Tony Award winning 1949 Death of a Salesman is quintessential Miller and Willy Loman is his Everyman. The tragedy of Death of a Salesman was that Willy’s downfall was in direct proportion to how preoccupied he was with his own perceptions of how successful he was and how that success would catapult him to greatness.
The die of Willy’s dream was cast years ago when he decided that his fortune lay in his personality and salesmanship, not in the frontiers of Alaska and Africa where his brother Ben and father before him went to make their fortunes. It was not in having a craft, although he was quite handy around the house. It wasn’t in anything you could actually put your finger on. For 35 years what Willy sold, was himself and carving out his own frontiers along the New England States.
In a moving and gut wrenching portrayal of Willy Loman, Jeffrey DeMunn takes center stage in The Sheryl and Harvey White Theatre under the deft and sensitive direction of Pam Mackinnon. In a role of a lifetime, DeMunn touches on every aspect of Willy Loman’s personality as he digs deeper and deeper into his psyche pulling us in with him.
From his jubilation at watching his son Biff play football to his deep depressions and character flaws, to reprimanding his wife, to his moments of lucidness to his losing it, DeMunn maintains a strong presence touching every other character on the stage just by virtue of his intensity not to mention his body language. He’s compelling.
When we first see him, he has just returned home to Brooklyn after a day on the road exhausted and confused. His wife Linda (Robin Moseley) is concerned that he looks tired and out of sorts. He confesses he never made it past Yonkers. “Did he have another accident?” she asks while insisting he ask his boss, Howard (Jonathan Spivey) to let him work in New York rather than continue on the road.
His two sons Biff (Lucas Caleb Rooney) and Happy (Tyler Pierce) are at the family home. In one of Willy’s delusional moments he imagines that they are boys are young again sparring and jibing at each other in a happier time in all of their lives. The truth is Biff left home after several unsuccessful attempts at making something of himself and has returned after an eight-year absence. Hap is another Willy, getting by; by the seat of his pants yet thinking he has the personality and savoir-faire to make it big.
Biff, who has done some soul searching while rounding up cattle in the west, wants to be his own man and not live in the shadow of Willy’s dreams. Willy won’t hear of it. Biff is his guy and destined to greatness because he, too is well liked. Hap, the also ran son, settles for less and less and after years of listening to Willy’s promises of the American Dream that he wished on his son Biff, Hap is convinced, like his father, that it’s just around the corner.
Willy’s story unravels in both real time and in apparitions from the past as we journey with him through the last days of his struggle to maintain any form of dignity. Both sons are concerned but don’t know how to handle their father.
His wife Linda is the voice of reason throughout. She vacillates back and forth between pretending all is well and trying to bring him back to reality. She is conflicted about how to deal with the hallucinations and downward spiral she sees. She urges him to take it easy assuring him that they don’t need much money to live on week to week and they only have one more house payment to make before the house is theirs.
For the longest time, (unbeknownst to Linda) he has turned to his oldest and dearest friend and neighbor Charley (John Procaccino) whose cash he accepts every week but whose job offer he’s too proud to take. Things go from bad to worse when he’s let go from the very job that defines him, after he does ask for a raise.
In a scene that’s enough to make you bawl and cry out, Willy asks for a raise from Howard, his now boss. Howard inherited the business from his father, who was a friend of Willy’s, but no matter. In Howard’s mind, Willy is dispensable and after listening to Willy plead and beg, he fires him. “You can’t eat the orange and throw the peel away…” counters Willy.
Coming in and out of the picture is Willy’s brother Uncle Ben (Adrian Sparks) a bigger than life portrait of a man whose opinion Willy is constantly seeking yet never seems to take until the very end. Willy looks to him for reassurance and possible grounding. It is in these moments that we glimpse into Willy’s torturous and confused mind.
The Loman house, designed by Marion Williams, is set in the center of the White Theatre in the round with at least two levels. A 1949 worn over the years look, and with two active boys, the house is shabby but theirs. The kitchen is the focal point with bare bones living room furnished with an easy chair and lamp. One more payment is needed for both the near broken refrigerator and to pay off the mortgage.
Mathew J. LeFebvre’s period costumes are right on target. Especially noted were Linda’s hose with seams askew and apron over her housedress.
Rui Rita’s soft lighting design accents the worn look of things that were once new. It is also as sign that adjacent high-rise buildings that sprung up around the once single family neighborhood is blocking out the sunlight giving way to the closed in feeling now engulfing the Loman Family.
Next to DeMunn’s powerful and spot on portrayal of Willy Loman, Robin Moseley’s Linda is a bravura act to follow as she anchors everyone around her and clings to her hope that her husband will one day find peace. Lucas Caleb Rooney’s Biff is both bluster and touching as he comes to grips with who he really is sobbing painfully while trying to convince his father he’s just ordinary. Tyler Pierce is the perfect cad as Hap and Adrian Sparks is a bigger than life and imposing as Uncle Ben.
Overall this Death of a Salesman is perfect timing for The Globe to be presenting “Classics Up Close”. Set in a time of economic unrest in the late 40’s Miller’s play couldn’t be more fitting for today’s world as unemployment soars, downsizing is a reality, most sales are done over the Internet and traveling salesmen are a thing of the past.
My late father in law was an insurance man who went door-to-door selling life insurance policies. He was brought down by the stresses of his work. He always had a wistful look on his face. No doubt, he, too, secretly harbored illusions of the American Dream.
If you’ve never seen Death of a Salesman or seen it recently, now is a perfect time to get tickets.
See you at the theatre.
Dates: Through Feb. 27th
Organization: The Old Globe Theatre
Phone: 619-234-5623
Production Type: Drama
Where: 1363 Old Globe Way, Balboa Park
Ticket Prices: $29.00-$67.00
Web: theoldglobe.org
Venue: Sheryl and Harvey White Theatre
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Davis is a San Diego-based theatre critic