Divvying Up the Blame
Reviewed
2/12/05
by Arthur Miller
Directed by Wanda McHatton
Arizona Jewish Theatre Company
Viad Playhouse on the Park, Phoenix
(602) 264-0402
February 12th - 27th, 2005
$26.00 - $28.00 ($7 Student Rush half hour before curtain)
The virtual keening from the loss of Arthur Miller, one of America’s greatest playwrights, was still echoing in the rafters of the Viad Playhouse as Arizona Jewish Theatre Company mounted one of the lesser produced scripts from his repertoire, 1967’s The Price. According to her bio, Director Wanda McHatton names this as her favorite of Miller’s arsenal. It certainly leads many of Miller’s cherished sacrificial sacred cows to the slaughter: oppressive memories of an absentee father and a disconnected mother, teetering marriages, estranged brothers, and the ever-oppressive American Dream that equally destroys those who succeed and fail in obtaining it. What I feel it lacks in comparison to his more celebrated works is the spark of originality that infuses the dreamlike Death of a Salesman, the allegorical The Crucible, and the slightly lurid self-referential After the Fall. Though McHatton’s direction and strong performances from the quartet mark this production, this still winds up a very long and talky evening of uncovering a family’s skeletons in their attic.
Set in its original late 60s timeframe, essential to the plot’s constant references to the Crash of 1929, the Depression, and World War II, the Franz brothers have been called to the attic of their childhood Manhattan brownstone to clear away a lifetime’s furniture and other detritus before the building is razed. Victor (Mathew Zimmerer) and Walter (Tony Hodges) have not spoken in 16 years, based on events arising from their choices after the rich family’s finances collapsed at the start of the Depression. Elder brother Walter left to complete his medical degree while Victor chose to become a cop rather than pursue his dreams of science so that he could support his shattered father. Resentments between the successful brother and the civil servant have lingered to be ignited when scratched on the flint of Victor’s social-climbing wife Esther (Donna Davis) and elderly appraiser Gregory Solomon (Benjamin Stewart), trying desperately to make a deal for some of the choice furnishings. The play is rife with extended recollections, painful revelations, and self-defeating attitudes.
McHatton has worked hard to keep this very talky play on its feet and visually interesting. She has her actors bouncing around Thom Gilseth’s overcrowded attic, sitting and standing and moving as much as textually possible. She has obviously stressed table work with her professional cast. She doesn’t seem to have edited a word from this script, and paring, while not exactly legal, is exactly what this meandering script begs.
The nearly act-long work between Stewart and Zimmerer is made strong not by the often repetitious script, but by Stewart’s jocular offering and Zimmerer’s no-nonsense interjections. Zimmerer, in his NYPD blues straight from Actors Theatre’s Lobby Hero, is as stoic as his desperately drifting character needs to be. Stewart shamelessly plays Solomon for laughs, welcome considering the length and extensive exposition that continues until the final minutes of the show.
Davis and Hodges have the thankless jobs of playing the heavies, and they do the best they can. Davis avoids making Esther a harpy by keeping her a little more aloof than one might expect, a wise choice she and McHatton have divined. Hodges’ character doesn’t have as high an arc from his entrance to the final close, and he comes across as a bit stiff, even during his crisis.
Gilseth’s set is a nice asymmetrical balance and filled by Mavis Gilseth with interesting items which sometimes had the effect of drawing my eye away from the action during some of the slower moments. Troy Buckey’s lighting has a few expressive moments. Gail Wolfenden-Steib’s costumes are quite accurate and reflective of period and character. My biggest complaint concerns the heavy-handed makeup usage, especially by Stewart, which was too obvious.
I feel a bit like a miscreant knocking someone’s work mere days after their death, but while I’m a fan of Miller’s writing, this is not one of my favorites. The static, reflective nature of the play and its length sabotage some solid direction and performances. If you’re a Miller fan with a strong constitution, you’ll enjoy this well-produced piece.
To purchase a copy of the playscript from Amazon.com, click this link.