A family that has lately fallen on hard times looks back to discover that their former prosperity and happiness was essentially hollow, built around inflated estimations of value.  They labor under a burden of debt and unrelenting monthly bills, receiving a further blow when the sole breadwinner loses his job.  In the end, the family collapses under the pressures stemming from their economic hardship, and the downfall is presided over—and partially caused by—a dim-witted jock type whose highest ideals are macho bravado and being “well-liked” and who ridicules brainy academic types. 

Sound familiar?  No, this isn’t a story from our present economic crisis, and the presiding jock figure isn’t George W; this is a selective synopsis of Arthur Miller’s 1949 play Death of a Salesman.  But the parallels between this play and the current breakdown of the American dream make it an apt choice for Theatre Downtown’s current season.  Even though there are other forces (including a salient oedipal subtext) at work here, the play is centrally preoccupied with the problems of debt and prosperity.  It invites us to examine the degree to which our happiness relies on our material circumstances and the degree to which our perceptions of our circumstances are distorted by anodyne, self-serving fantasies.  And in the sobering wake of an unprecedented economic bubble that was largely supported by a delusional avoidance of reality, such questions now seem especially pressing. 

The current production of Death of a Salesman at the Theatre Downtown, featuring several Orlando theatre regulars, doesn’t particularly highlight the economic underpinnings of the story or its relevance to our incipient economic recession, but it does provide a very solid, straightforward reading of Miller’s play—a perfect introduction for those who’ve never seen or read it and an excellent refresher for those who have.  The success of any production of Death of a Salesman rests on the shoulders of the actor playing Willy Loman, and this production owes its success primarily to the fantastic work of James Zelley, an actor who appeared in Theatre Downtown’s inaugural season twenty years ago.  He’s perfectly cast, and his moving performance effectively harnesses the rueful poignancy of the role. The actors playing the three other key roles—Cira Larkin as Linda Loman, Dean Walkuski as Biff, and especially Daniel Cooksley as Happy—turn in solid, if less inspired performances.  And Will Barbara, as Willy’s benign next-door neighbor Charley, brings an exceptional warmth and humor to his scenes.

These fine on-stage performances are buttressed by very capable direction and staging.  The director, one of the founders of Theatre Downtown and a thirty-year veteran of the stage, deftly negotiates the vacillations and interactions between Willy’s rose-tinted memories and the grim reality of his present.  In the hands of a less experienced director, such frequent, unannounced transitions could be confusing or awkward, but they are always plausible and seamless in this production.  Special notice is also due to the set designer, Tom Mangieri, for producing a cozy, authentic recreation of 1940s Brooklyn and for his economical use of the space in Theatre Downtown’s intimate black box.    

In fact, it’s hard to find any obtrusively bad details in this production.  Without such typical (in the world of local theater) distractions, the audience is free to experience the unsettling force of Miller’s drama—a powerful and searching rumination on the American dream and American values.  This is the right play at the right moment, and Theatre Downtown’s production brilliantly seizes the opportunity.