Death of a Salesman (Broadway)
Review of Death of a Salesman on Broadway
This was one of the big shows I wanted to see in Fall 2022, and not because of the two leads. I had never heard of them or had an interest in seeing a Miller show any time soon, but when I caught wind that Andre De Shields was leaving Hadestown for this production, I knew that I was going to drag myself all the way up to New York in order to get my butt into a seat. By chance, I ended up in NYC during the previews for the New York Film Festival, so when I had some free time, I caught a Wednesday matinee of the show. I did not expect it to be so long, though, and it ate away at a good chunk of my time because it clocked in at over three hours by the end.
My TDF seat was very, very good though. I was in a row by myself in the Orchestra: Row N. There’s Row M in front, then the aisle because the Hudson Theatre has a strange layout for the orchestra.
If you get Row M, or have the chance to purchase it, both Andre De Shields and Wendell Pierce come out into the audience on that side. Andre just kind of wanders out the exit and through a side door at one point, but during the ending scenes, Wendell literally comes through screaming, spit flying, as he chases after Andre.
I will say in advance: I think this show is going to take home some acting Tonys. Let’s dig deep into why.
A struggling salesman must confront his demons and mental health issues.
I’m not going to go over the plot of Death of a Salesman simply because this is one of Arthur Miller’s best-known plays. If you want a synopsis, Google it. The nutshell version of it here is that Pierce portrays a struggling salesman in the forties, who, after realizing that he is not in his prime anymore, is really starting to fall apart.
Salesman goes back in forth between the present and past in the blink of an eye, symbolized here by quickly changing lights and Pierce snapping into a tangent that doesn’t seem coherent to what he was just saying.
At first, I found this confusing considering I knew nothing about the source material, but during intermission, I read the Wikipedia page and came to understand what was happening. If I did not read that, though, it might have taken me a bit longer.
This edition decides to do something a little different with the play: the Loman family is Black in the late 1940s. They don’t make this in a way that completely changes the script, forcing it to be woke. Some of the lines really land differently when it comes to this context.
For example, Ben going to Africa and becoming rich off of wandering into the jungle can be taken an entirely different route in this context. Willy said that nobody likes him anymore because he’s old and not in his prime anymore can also be taken in the fact that he is an elderly Black man trying to sell things to white customers.
There are also some power dynamics going on. The white boss who fires Willy seems to have all the power in that scene, reducing Willy’s ramblings to madness and the fact he is no longer well. Then there is the neighboring kid that Biff didn’t like, who tried to tutor him, who becomes more successful.
His father owns a business and spots Willy money whenever he needs it, but there is a vague connection to race as power here as well. I could be reading into things, but the fact that Willy is an unsuccessful Black salesman working at a white company in the 1940s also implies that he is doomed to fail in some way. He will never get a promotion.
While Willy seems to be the protagonist, I find Biff to be the more interesting protagonist in this story. He brings in the underlying threads and ties them all together: he tries to live up to his father’s dreams, becoming the star football player, but crashes and burns when he flunks senior year math and discovers his father cheating. He hides the truth from his mother, played by Sharon Clarke, despite watching her defend her husband with everything she has. She knows he is suicidal, puts together the puzzle pieces, but still lets him go through with things.
The acting in this play is absolutely superb, and, as I said before, I think this is going to take home some Tony Awards. Sharon and Wendell own their roles, and the actors playing the sons also nail down their parts to a lesser extent. Pierce owns the role of Willy fully here, which makes his final monologue, as he paces and spits down the stage and into the audience.
He is convincing as a salesman who has finally gone mad, deciding that suicide is the only way out. At the same time, the play feeds into this idea that we’re trapped in Willy’s through the setup. Household objects are strung to the ceiling and rise and fall when needed but are always suspended in the air in plain sight.
More curiously was the implementation of the set and song. Sharon’s character, the matriarch of the family, has a tendency to sing, which spreads to the other characters.
Everyone but Wendell ultimately ends up singing, including the ghostly Ben, which I felt leaned towards the African-American influences in this play. It drives home that because they are Black, despite their hopefulness, they are never probably going to achieve the American Dream they sought out, making this so much more heartbreaking. It’d be dangerous to reduce them to their race, though, and these complex characters are brought to life through a myriad of ways on the stage.
Go see this if you have the time. Trust me, it’s worth it. I was sad to see all the empty seats around me, though, so in previews, it looks like it is not selling well at all. The majority of the audience was older when I was there—I think I was the only person under the age of forty as I did my look around. It’s a necessary play, though, and much needed in today’s climate.
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