On Friday night, I was blessed with the unique opportunity to attend
Theater Mitu's touring production of
Death of a Salesman in the Pardoe. I walked in with very little notion of what to expect: I've only read maybe 3/4 of this one, and I have to say that I wasn't crazy about it. Loved
The Crucible, but the fragmented structure of
Salesman really threw me for a loop. Anyway, so I walked in not a huge fan of Arthur Miller and very unfamiliar with the avant-garde style of Theater Mitu.
I suppose it would be somewhat superfluous to say that my non-existent expectations were blown to bits. I was completely unprepared for what was easily one of the most cathartic theatre experiences I've ever had in my life.
The play was set on a small cluster of granite-slabs--sidewalk. The sidewalk of America. This patch of sidewalk [with two access ramps that led off stage] was never left by any of the characters. It contained the entire world of the play. However, this world was unlike any I had ever seen or even imagined. For those familiar with the play, you know that it really only follows three main characters: Willy Loman, his wife Linda, and his fallen from grace son Biff. His other son, Happy, as well as the supporting cast of about ten other minor characters, were represented by iconic household items from the 1950's:
- Happy, the second best son who's turned his life to fulfilling his carnal desires and desperately trying to please his parents without much success, was represented as an old punching bag.
- Ben Loman, Willy's older and much more successful brother, was represented by a large circular light.
- The Woman who derails Willy's whole life, as well as other flirtatious women throughout the play, were represented by personal room fans.
- Bernard, the bookish boy from next door who eventually comes into great success due to focus and dedication in school, was represented by a small handheld strip light.
- Bernard's father Charley, Willy's only friend and eventually financial benefactor, was represented as an old refrigerator door.
- A gossipy secretary who has little sympathy for Willy was represented by a telephone.
- The maitre'd at the restaurant was represented by a chilling bucket with a bottle of champagne.
All of these items were manipulated at different times by a mere two puppeteers dressed head to toe in black so that their presence was known onstage while the focus remained on the items. This was a major nod to the Japanese tradition of Bunraku [puppet theatre]. Even though it's difficult to imagine, each item had an individual personality and voice [pre-recorded], which allowed to audience to suspend their disbelief with relative ease and willingness.
In addition to interacting with all of these items on stage, the actual human characters also carried with them an item that acted as an extension of themselves. Willy carried an overlarge valise, Linda a Japanese parasol, and Biff a set of football shoulder pads. In the case of Biff, his item often replaced him when Willy lapsed into flashbacks, indicating that these items represented how the others saw them rather than having any physical importance to their existence.
Although it was a three hour play, time was suspended in the mesmerizing performances of everyone on stage. It was hard to care about homework or appointments as you watched people and items alike interacting and creeping closer to the tragedy of the common man. The entire show was enshrouded in a sense of foreboding created by ominous piano accompaniment to almost every scene. It even went as far as being physically uncomfortable when the music swelled to crescendo as Willy literally fell into his disordered inner state multiple times throughout the show.
One of the trickier aspects of staging this piece reveals itself in the form of age transition. How does one go from old to young in matter of three seconds between flashback scenes? The answer presented itself in the form of masks, which was a convention taken from the ancient Japanese tradition of Noh. While wearing the masks, both Willy and Linda appeared to be well advanced in years, even from the front row. However, once the masks came off, both were young and vibrant and absolutely exploding with energy. It was certainly a tribute to the ability of the actors to be able to physically represent that difference rather than relying solely on the masks to do the working of aging for them because, in case you hadn't gleaned from the above paragraphs the circumstances under which the actors were performing, the acting was absolutely PHENOMENAL.
From here, I could go on and on about how the plot was progressed and the introduction of singing to what is traditionally considered a straight dramatic piece without musical influence, but I feel as if I've done a rough embodiment of all the really blew my mind about the show with the exception of one thing. The one thing that stood out to me above all the spectacular conventions was the real human connections that the characters established not just with each other, but with the audience. I rarely ever find myself moved when I go to the theatre, but this production literally left me breathless by the end. I could elaborate with flimsy and meaningless words, but I don't want to mar the memory of that incredible night of performance.
As a whole, if anyone reading this somehow has an opportunity to attend a Theater Mitu show, I'd HIGHLY recommend it. The company is innovative and ambitious, and it really does have the ability to breathe new life into plays that have become stagnant and commonplace.
Heck, if you have the time, just sit down and read
Death of a Salesman if you can stomach the real tragedy of the middle class. Long gone are the days of the tragic hero found in Oedipus, my friends.
And with that, I bid you a happy Monday.
