Death of a Salesman

Overview

Capitalism has had a bit of a bad rap lately. Its current problem goes something like this: capitalism means growth, and for economies to grow people must buy things, and for people to buy things they have to need things. If they don’t need things, someone has to convince them they do. Paying for these new desires costs money, and if there’s no money someone has to supply credit. And when regular schmos have easy access to credit, along comes a housing bust and two global financial crises: when governments act strangely socialist, and start buying banks. Up until that point it was semi-sensible to argue that capitalism was a meritorious system where gains and losses alike are borne by those taking the risks. Fair’s fair. Nowadays the argument is slightly more nuanced: individuals can lose, but banks can’t.

Even before the days of such curious economic shenanigans, Arthur Miller saw the capitalist dream for what it was; a dream. The notion that taking a risk, working hard and thinking positively will lead to great success, otherwise known as the American Dream, turns out to be a great way of making poor people hate themselves for failing to lift themselves up out of their station in life. Willie Loman is one such poor man, who tries his hardest to believe but is unable to reconcile himself to his fate. He has worked hard, worked honestly, been loyal to the company and yet he can’t pay his bills. Death of a Salesman is not losing relevance any time soon. Australia may be weathering the economic storm better than other developed countries, but the feeling of being let down by the system is still present. It makes sense then to set the tale in contemporary Australia, as Simon Stone has done in this excellent production at the Belvoir St Upstairs.

The only shortcoming of this approach is that the actors sometimes struggle to make Miller’s wonderful American vernacular flow in their native Australian accents and references to American time and place are out of joint. It’s a bit of a having and eating of cake situation, but is preferable to a complete Aussie rewrite.

The strength of this production is its simplicity. The design team including Ralph Myers (set), Stefen Gregory (sound) and Alice Babidge (costume) have exercised restraint so that the actors can tell the story clearly. And tell it they do. The performances are consistently engaging, with Patrick Brammall giving us a particularly tender and broken Biff. Colin Friels has outdone himself in this production - he’s brittle, humorous and horrifyingly mortal. Pip Miller’s warm, no-nonsense characterisation of Willie’s neighbour Charley serves to highlight the stubborn pride and delusion that are Willie’s downfall. There’s a strong sense of ensemble in the cast, with some fabulous transitions between present and past.

A masterpiece like Death of a Salesman can withstand all sorts of treatment, and thankfully this production is sensible enough to let it stand on its own.

Death of a Salesman's Belvoir season, running until August 19, has sold out. The show will return for an encore season from October 23 to November 3 at the Theatre Royal on King Street, Sydney. Tickets are now on sale here.