By Nick Pilgrim
“Every man has two deaths, when he is buried in the ground and the last time someone says his name. In some ways men can be immortal.”
Ernest Hemingway
Three years ago, I had the privilege to review Death of a Salesman. Produced by Melbourne’s Hearth Theatre, that bespoke company’s spare and stark interpretation stayed with me long after the final curtain fell.
It is easy to understand why this American standard is revived time after time.
An instant classic when it first debuted in 1949, Death of a Salesman is a multi-dimensional character study as relevant now as it was almost eighty years ago. Set in two distinct time periods fifteen years apart, the blue-collar family drama immediately connected with audiences still reeling from World War II and The Great Depression before that.
In 2026, Death of a Salesman returned triumphant to Broadway a seventh time with a cast featuring Nathan Lane, Laurie Metcalf, Christopher Abbott and Ben Alhers. That brand-new iteration scooped Tony Awards for Outstanding Revival, Featured Actress (Metcalf), Direction (Joe Mantello), Scenic Design, Lighting and Sound, plus nominations for Lane, Abbott and Original Score as well.
To be fair, Arthur Miller’s masterpiece is not an easy watch. Exploring America’s capitalist illusion in unfiltered depth, his searing metaphor takes no prisoners.
Presented as a fragmented set of memories, viewers are tasked with piecing overlapping non-linear episodes back together. These shards cut raw and deep but will ultimately reward audiences for their fortitude.
As someone with a passion for live theatre as far back as I can remember, certain works keep calling me back for more.
Examples such as The Glass Menagerie, Merrily We Roll Along, Things I Know To Be True, and Holding The Man encapsulate the heights and depths of human emotion. Where success and failure inextricably intertwine, how we unfurl that tangled ball of yarn becomes the very core of life itself.
In short, these repeat viewings keep me hooked with their consideration for staging, tone, and pace.
When I was offered the opportunity to review Death of a Salesman again, I immediately jumped at the chance. My overriding objective being, how would this version’s creative choices make it stand apart?
It is a difficult job to build on perfection.
Casting audiences as both judge and jury, Hearth Theatre fashioned a highly immersive experience. Staged at The Clocktower Centre in Moonee Ponds and Prahran’s Chapel off Chapel, their 2023 season took advantage of both venue’s intimate performing spaces.
The biggest difference between that production and the 2026 run helmed by GWB Entertainment and Andrew Henry Presents is its choice of location. Melbourne’s Her Majesty’s Theatre is an enormous space to fill. Containing 1,700 seats, any lesser show would become lost inside such a large venue.
In this instance, the stellar cast and creative team combine forces, resulting in an epic journey with pinpoint attention to detail.
As its main drawcard, Anthony LaPaglia is the dynamic glue holding everything together. In his care, Willy Loman is flawed, unlikeable, yet deeply troubled. While wanting only the best for his boys, Loman rules his family with an iron fist. A brute of a man worn down by circumstances and time, LaPaglia disappears into the role with absolute bravado.
Alison Whyte, (who played Amanda Wingfield earlier this year in MTC’s version of The Glass Menagerie) is every bit LaPaglia’s match. As Loman’s devoted wife, Linda, she is a stay-at-home matriarch who has seen and supported her husband and children through thick and thin. Whyte’s gripping commitment to the role is highlighted by a constant state of worry; she conveys both with her face and stance. Knowing their lives depend on her counting every penny or cutting every corner, she is the backbone of the piece.
Furthermore, the couple’s electrifying chemistry together reminds me of legendary pairings such as Spencer Tracy and Katherine Hepburn, or Hume Cronyn and Jessica Tandy.
Josh Helman (as Biff) and Ben O’Toole (as Happy) will devastate as the sons trapped in their father’s unbalanced orbit. Circling between concern and desperation, watching them switch between trying to please him yet living in constant fear will break your heart. Taking on their parents’ best and worst traits simply to survive, the damaged pair truly feel like siblings.
Anthony Phelan plays Willy’s older and far more successful brother, Ben. Almost mythical in voice and stature, Phelan has power and presence reminiscent of a Sterling Hayden or Charlton Heston.
Darcy Brown (as Stanley / Bernard) exudes the youthful, manic energy necessary for his conflicted character to work. Torn between helping Biff and securing his own future, Brown’s development is impressive.
The eleven-strong cast is rounded out by a veteran group with Marco Chiappi (as Charlie), Simon Maiden (as Howard), Paula Arundell (as The Woman), Elizabeth Blackmore (as Miss Forsythe), and Aisha Adara (as Letta/Jenny).
When they are not interacting with other performers, this production’s choice to keep most members on stage for the play’s entirety is a brilliant move. Like ghosts of indiscretions past, they sit and watch scenes unfold from the shadows.
Very much an ensemble piece, excellent creative support unleashes an aura bigger than life.
Knowing Death of a Salesman was directed by the likes of Elia Kazan and Mike Nichols before him, Neil Armfield brings Broadway’s Golden Age full force to twenty-first century audiences. Thanks to his clean and respectful vision, I felt transported to another era where shows relied solely on method and truth to wow and dazzle patrons.
Dale Ferguson’s intelligent Set Design takes full advantage of the theatre’s interior. A tiered scaffold identified as Ebbets Field forms the backdrop to Miller’s story. Without giving away the play’s biggest plot twist, framing the play around this historic sporting stadium is a deliberate decision.
Sensitive Costume Design by Ferguson and Sophie Woodward helps audiences to follow the story’s two distinct time periods. Dressing the characters from riches to rags, they provide easy contrast between early optimism torn apart by later regret.
Lighting Design (by Niklas Pajanti), Composition (by Alan John), and Sound Design (by David Greaseley and David Tonion) all combine to give Death of a Salesman cinematic grandeur and film noir importance.
It is understandable why this encore season has been richly showered with superlatives. Playing for a strictly limited Melbourne season until August 22 before heading to Brisbane (August 28 – September 6) and Adelaide (September 26 – October 4), Death of a Salesman is the gold standard in theatre production.
Don’t miss it.
