Death of A Salesman offers grim look at American Dream

Among post-World War II tragic plays, Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman is one of the best. But how does it hold up today?

With character names like Biff and Happy it may seem dated, but its message carries weight in the twenty-first century too, especially in the current economic climate.

So it makes sense for Baltimore’s Vagabond Players, located in Fell’s Point, to tackle Miller’s iconic play in the Feb. 25 to March 27 segment of their 95th season.

First performed in 1949, Death of a Salesman is about the aging Willy Loman (Tony Colavito) and his delusional view of the American Dream. Loman is stuck in his distorted vision of the past.

At the same time, he helplessly searches for the next solution that will ensure a bright future for him and his family. However, with his limited skills as a salesman fading, Loman is at a loss for how to realize his impossible goals.

Triggering the worst of Willy Loman’s mental deterioration is the return of his wayward son, Biff (Gregory Beck). Biff, once a star athlete and promising young man (at least in his father’s eyes), has not been able to succeed at anything since he was seventeen years old.

Now thirty-four, Biff wanders around the west and works in manual labor, but does not seem to be able to hold a steady job. Loman, who has always seen exaggerated greatness in himself and his sons, perceives Biff’s failures to be an attempt to “spite” him.

In addition to Biff, Loman also has another son, Happy (Christopher Kryszotifiak). Although Happy seems satisfied and moderately successful, he is in fact a “philandering bum,” as his mother accuses in a moment of brutal honesty.

Reality like this, however, is difficult for all of the Lomans to accept. They appear to care about one another almost too much, so that they cannot handle the others’ human shortcomings.

The finest thing about the Vagabond Players’s production of Death of a Salesman is that the actors seem absolutely perfect for their roles.

Miller’s play is a character-driven piece of theater; it is not bolstered by over-the-top action or spectacle. Therefore, good acting and an ability to draw the audience into the characters’ pain is absolutely essential.

The Vagabond Players do this and more. All the actors are real and believable, even when they are in the midst of dialogue that is full of campy 1949 phrases.

As the star of the show, Tony Colavito’s Willy Loman is infuriating, pitiable and endearing. He has lost touch with reality and can be very cruel to his wife (Helenmary Ball) and sons.

Yet the audience understands what it is that he wants and how constantly being denied his dreams has made him angry and pathetic. Helenmary Ball’s role as Linda Loman, his strong, caring and comparatively reasonable wife, creates a sturdy and sympathetic foil to Willy’s erratic character. She is sweet, sad and tragically loyal to her

ess-than-faithful husband.

Kryszotifiak is a success as Happy, a charming but small man who sees himself with the distorted vision of his father.

Happy is selfish, but he goes to great lengths to tell Loman only what he wants to hear. His role is to try to keep everyone “happy,” a near impossible task in such a dreary play.

Beck delivers an especially poignant portrayal of Biff. In his interactions with his father, Biff comes off as the more sympathetic and justified character. It is therefore painful to watch his futile attempts to communicate with his father.

As Beck portrays him, Biff seems like a nice guy who just cannot seem to get it together. He is a man held back by his own limitations and the exalted expectations of his family. His character translates particularly well into 2011, speaking to adults in their thirties who still have not yet “found themselves.”

The Vagabond Players’s stage is small and the set is limited. The scenery for the Lomans’ house also has to serve for various corporate offices and a restaurant.

This is a bit awkward, but Death of a Salesman is after all about the characters, and that is what the Vagabond Players do well.

This production also showcases a rather creative approach to set design, as the walls of the stage were painted about three-quarters up with wallpaper designs and then filled at the top with a surreal depiction of the New York skyline.

Miller’s play hits home more than ever when Biff finally tells his father, “I’m a dime a dozen, Pop, and so are you.” With these blunt words, Biff attempts to shatter Willy Loman’s delusions of grandeur.

Loman cannot abandon his fantasy, but it becomes abundantly clear to the audience how many pathetic men like him think they are special and destined for greatness.

Death of a Salesman brutally cuts apart this impossible American Dream without sacrificing its crucial sensitivity to the characters’ emotional struggles.