Death of a Salesman Festival Theatre Edinburgh 19th March 2025 Review
Death of a Salesman is at the Festival Theatre Edinburgh (Wed 19 to Sat 22 March) and, under the direction of Andy Arnold, this classic play by Arthur Miller deliberately has made this a showcase for Scottish talent both on stage and in the production of this work.
Set in the late 1940s (first performed 10 Feb 1949), Death of a Salesman is partly based upon people in Miller’s own family, but it is his ability as a writer that transforms this work into such powerful commentary on the “American Dream” and that spirit of independence that goes with it, into something that still has as much to say today as it did over 75 years ago.
Death of a Salesman is a work of words, and by that I mean that instead of big theatrical moments and gestures, everything here is in the narrative and as an audience we have to play close attention at all times to the dialogue of the principal characters here, and in particular the salesman of this story, Willy Loman. Arthur Miller put everything that we need to know into his script, but as he takes us deeper and deeper into Willy Loman’s increasingly fragile grasp on the reality of how things really are, memories shift back and forwards through time and this requires all of us watching and listening to not miss a word of this dialogue in order to build up the multi-layered narrative that Miller is unfolding on stage. This is immersive theatre before anyone thought of the name, only here it is dialogue that the audience is immersed in.
The role of Willy Loman is probably one of the greatest challenges out there for any actor. Not only are there so many lines of dialogue to be delivered here, but the role also requires the skills of someone who can make you believe that he is the body and spirit weary salesman of this story who has to a large extent built a fantasy world not only about himself but his wife and two sons. In this production, David Hayman makes his Willy Noman believable from the moment that he wearily walks onto the stage.
With a very sensitive and emotional performance David Hayman obviously understands who Willy Loman is as a man. Here is someone reaching the end of his working life and if you are of a certain age then chances are that you will empathise with many of the questions that he is now asking about himself as he looks back at earlier opportunities he should have taken, dreams and hopes that he once had, and maybe more importantly than anything else, what he has achieved and what he will be remembered for by family, friends and acquaintances when he is gone. Will he have been liked or “very liked”? It is remarkable that Arthur Miller somehow understood Willy Loman so well, but he was not when writing this work at that point in his life, instead he was 34 years old When Death of a Salesman was first published and still had a long life (he died aged 89 in 2005) of remarkable work ahead of him.
The emotional counterbalance to Willy’s dreams and the focal point of his strength, the person who believes in him above all others, is his wife, Linda, and Beth Marshall is very good in this role and allows David Hayman room to portray his character so well in their scenes together whilst retaining Linda’s individuality at the same time.
So much of the emotional power of this work comes from the relationship between the Lomans’ two sons, Biff (Daniel Cahill) and Happy (Michael Wallace), not only with each other but with their parents and, for me, it took a while for all of this to be properly established, but to be fair the second act somehow seemed to allow for a far more powerful performance from both Daniel and Michael. Perhaps part of the reason for this was that Biff and Happy are often in Willy Loman’s sugar-coated memories of their childhood, and having adults portray their childhood self is always a difficult stretch of reality to do convincingly.
There are some interesting performances here too from the other people in the Lomans’ life and although this often shifts times and settings, the decision by set designer Neil Haynes to make this set a very minimalistic one works very well here and its almost neutral colour palette gives no distraction from the performance. It is also a very economical answer to the costs of bringing a touring production to a stage. One ever-present part of this set though is the background image of an elm tree bathed in golden sunlight. This small detail is crucial as to how Willy Loman sees some of his home-life past, particularly as his mind-set of the present shifts rapidly into darker and darker despair.
What company Willy Loman works for and exactly what he sells we never find out, but that is not really relevant at all here in the bigger picture of this story. Some of the observations that Arthur Miller makes here through Willy Loman are not only sharp and poignant, but also, depending upon your point of view, emotionally very painful.
A special mention here has to go to Spirit Aid, a humanitarian charity that David Hayman set up in 2001.
Review by Tom King © 2025
www.artsreviewsedinburgh.com
Set in the late 1940s (first performed 10 Feb 1949), Death of a Salesman is partly based upon people in Miller’s own family, but it is his ability as a writer that transforms this work into such powerful commentary on the “American Dream” and that spirit of independence that goes with it, into something that still has as much to say today as it did over 75 years ago.
Death of a Salesman is a work of words, and by that I mean that instead of big theatrical moments and gestures, everything here is in the narrative and as an audience we have to play close attention at all times to the dialogue of the principal characters here, and in particular the salesman of this story, Willy Loman. Arthur Miller put everything that we need to know into his script, but as he takes us deeper and deeper into Willy Loman’s increasingly fragile grasp on the reality of how things really are, memories shift back and forwards through time and this requires all of us watching and listening to not miss a word of this dialogue in order to build up the multi-layered narrative that Miller is unfolding on stage. This is immersive theatre before anyone thought of the name, only here it is dialogue that the audience is immersed in.
The role of Willy Loman is probably one of the greatest challenges out there for any actor. Not only are there so many lines of dialogue to be delivered here, but the role also requires the skills of someone who can make you believe that he is the body and spirit weary salesman of this story who has to a large extent built a fantasy world not only about himself but his wife and two sons. In this production, David Hayman makes his Willy Noman believable from the moment that he wearily walks onto the stage.
With a very sensitive and emotional performance David Hayman obviously understands who Willy Loman is as a man. Here is someone reaching the end of his working life and if you are of a certain age then chances are that you will empathise with many of the questions that he is now asking about himself as he looks back at earlier opportunities he should have taken, dreams and hopes that he once had, and maybe more importantly than anything else, what he has achieved and what he will be remembered for by family, friends and acquaintances when he is gone. Will he have been liked or “very liked”? It is remarkable that Arthur Miller somehow understood Willy Loman so well, but he was not when writing this work at that point in his life, instead he was 34 years old When Death of a Salesman was first published and still had a long life (he died aged 89 in 2005) of remarkable work ahead of him.
The emotional counterbalance to Willy’s dreams and the focal point of his strength, the person who believes in him above all others, is his wife, Linda, and Beth Marshall is very good in this role and allows David Hayman room to portray his character so well in their scenes together whilst retaining Linda’s individuality at the same time.
So much of the emotional power of this work comes from the relationship between the Lomans’ two sons, Biff (Daniel Cahill) and Happy (Michael Wallace), not only with each other but with their parents and, for me, it took a while for all of this to be properly established, but to be fair the second act somehow seemed to allow for a far more powerful performance from both Daniel and Michael. Perhaps part of the reason for this was that Biff and Happy are often in Willy Loman’s sugar-coated memories of their childhood, and having adults portray their childhood self is always a difficult stretch of reality to do convincingly.
There are some interesting performances here too from the other people in the Lomans’ life and although this often shifts times and settings, the decision by set designer Neil Haynes to make this set a very minimalistic one works very well here and its almost neutral colour palette gives no distraction from the performance. It is also a very economical answer to the costs of bringing a touring production to a stage. One ever-present part of this set though is the background image of an elm tree bathed in golden sunlight. This small detail is crucial as to how Willy Loman sees some of his home-life past, particularly as his mind-set of the present shifts rapidly into darker and darker despair.
What company Willy Loman works for and exactly what he sells we never find out, but that is not really relevant at all here in the bigger picture of this story. Some of the observations that Arthur Miller makes here through Willy Loman are not only sharp and poignant, but also, depending upon your point of view, emotionally very painful.
A special mention here has to go to Spirit Aid, a humanitarian charity that David Hayman set up in 2001.
Review by Tom King © 2025
www.artsreviewsedinburgh.com