This devastating play was Arthur Miller’s breakthrough in 1947. It remains a piercing attack on greedy individualism, as well as a moving portrait of a family haunted by a single ugly episode in their past.
At the heart of that family is Kate Keller, played here by two-time Oscar winner Sally Field, who’s making her first appearance on a British stage. She brings both trembling anxiety and an air of mystery to this obsessive character, who’s sustained by the delusion that her son Larry, reported missing in wartime action, is still alive.
Bill Pullman is her husband Joe, a self-made man. But his image is tarnished — during the war his factory shipped faulty engine parts, which caused the deaths of twenty-one pilots. He let his partner Steve take the rap for this, and the two families are awkwardly entangled. Steve’s son George seems intent on vengeance, while daughter Ann, once engaged to Larry, is now close to marrying his brother Chris.
Pullman’s Joe, who looks like a rather ruffled eagle, uses joviality to deflect questions of responsibility. It’s a charismatic interpretation, but his rasping delivery means some of Miller’s most potent lines don’t land properly. He’s not the only one who’s less than perfectly audible in Jeremy Herrin’s production, which at times feels underpowered.
Yet this is a revival that savours the complexities of Miller’s characters. Jenna Coleman’s Ann at first appears perky and earnest, but proves intriguingly tenacious. Oliver Johnstone’s George is a mix of fidgety misfit and crusader. As Chris, Colin Morgan combines passion and wit with moments of glazed bewilderment. The highlight, though, is Sally Field’s subtle performance, in which every loving gesture seems unbearably fragile.
Until June 8
