Death of a Salesman

Kilian Melloy READ TIME: 3 MIN.

It's a little jolting to see John Malkovich playing the deeply troubled -- and emotionally vulnerable -- younger son in the TV movie version of Arthur Miller's classic play "Death of a Salesman." Thanks to Shout Select's Blu-ray release of the movie, you can get as long a look as you need to wrap your head around it.

Malkovich isn't the only surprise here. It's also a shock to remember that Stephen Lang played Happy, the womanizing older son. Between the two of them, it seems as though the disparate and uneasily coexisting facets of the traveling salesman Willy Loman (Dustin Hoffman) whose fate the title reflects upon. Willy is a dreamer and a perpetual second banana; he's also a talker and -- we come to realize -- a bit of a womanizer himself. Hoffman turns in a bravura performance, but the rest of the cast -- which also includes Kate Reid as Willy's wife Linda ("Attention must be paid!") -- share the screen with him in full confidence.

This production falls somewhere between play and film, and hearkens back to TV's golden age style of presentation, such as was once standard on programs like "Playhouse 90." It's a genuinely mounted cinematic production -- not a filmed record of a stage presentation -- but it holds to the theatrical, with an elaborate set that is, for all its beauty, clearly a set. Similarly, the cinematography and direction suggest theater, rather than trying to bury the film's stage origins underneath cinematic convention. This seems a wise choice on the part of director Volker Schl�ndorff, because the material need is native to the stage; had this not been a play, it would have made for a fine opera.

Loman's problem is that he's aging out of the workforce in a post-war America, a place of rapidly growing economic prospects that timing and personal disposition have left Loman poorly positioned to partake in. His failures as a father and role model have left deep impressions on his sons, who look at him with affection but hardly with awe. His biggest fan is wife Linda, who defends him with all her might; she alone sees past his lifetime of struggle, and beyond his failing mental state. (Loman lapses again and again into all-encompassing memories of the past and conversations with imaginary companions, including his much more successful brother Ben [Louis Zurich].)

Loman is an everyman, but in a particular sense: Like Dr. Who's TARDIS, he's much bigger on the inside than he seems to those who observe him from the outside. That's due, in one way, to his delusions and justifications; in another way, however, Loman supersedes the "everyman" persona, so commonplace and trampled, to become an anyman, a figure of universal sympathy and, in the end, magnificent courage.

This Shout Select edition is the film's Blu-ray debut, but it doesn't come with much in the way of special features -- only a single extra, a sort of behind-the-scenes production diary on film that's saddled with an overlong title ("Private Conversations: A Candid Look Behind The Scenes At The Filming Of This Powerful And Compelling, Award-Winning Production Of Death Of A Salesman") but left to fend for itself with no commentary to contextualize or explain what's going on. It's fascinating to watch, however, as Hoffman and the rest of the cast engage in conversations with Schl�ndorff, other members of the crew, and each other, while the playwright, Arthur Miller, visits the set and seems pleased with what he sees.

The nature of theater -- and one of its great attractions -- is how each performance is unique. Still, there are times you wish you could revisit some particular production on some particular night. This hybrid of theater and film answers such a desire and makes it worth your while.

"Death of a Salesman"
Blu-ray
$24.93
https://www.shoutfactory.com/film/film-drama/death-of-a-salesman


by Kilian Melloy

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