It’s been said that attending the opening night of a play is much like attending a wedding: with everyone dressed to the nines, eager to say “I do,” it’s a bit difficult not to get swept up in the magic of it all. I’d have to agree. At curtain’s fall, Soulpepper’s rousing revival of Arthur Miller’s The Price made me want to raise my glass in a celebratory toast.
Though not nearly as recognized as Miller’s other works (Death of A Salesman, anyone?), The Price is a highly entertaining and engrossing drama that begs the question: does what we own determine our value in life?
The play’s basic premise centers around two estranged brothers: Victor, a middle-class cop, and Walter, a rich and famous surgeon, who come together to clear out their deceased father’s attic in Harlem. Both have their own reasons for the reunion: Victor and his wife, Esther, would like to sell the items to obtain the financial security they never had; Walter, who has enjoyed a life of luxury, would like to make amends with his older brother.
All told, Diana Leblanc’s direction is superb. The beats are not drawn out, and each character has their moment to shine; Jane Spidell as Esther, in particular, is heartbreakingly charming and vulnerable. There’s also a good mix of humour that lightens up the more dramatic moments (this is a play in which the Depression fits pervasively, after all). Most of the comic relief comes from the brilliant scene-stealer David Fox as the wily furniture appraiser, Solomon, who was easily the audience’s favourite.
My only caveat with the play’s direction is that Walter, played by Stuart Hughes, is a character that runs barely short of cliché. With his slicked back hair and horn-rimmed glasses, there really isn’t much saving him from being the typical, selfish sleazebag who we all love to hate. Still, by the end of the play, Hughes is able to make him endearing and almost likeable, no simple feat (did I mention that he also wears penny loafers?).
With a strong stage presence that matches his jawline and build, Michael Hanrahan is perfectly cast as the blue-collared “do gooder” son, Victor (though his Noo Yawk accent did dissipate by play’s end).
The Price is, most of all, a story of legacy. The incredibly detailed set (designed by Phillip Silver) hints at a lifetime that’s accumulated a lot of stuff. Not just physical stuff — like those beautiful antique dressers and chairs and that exquisite harp — but also the emotional baggage that every family carries throughout life. The audience realizes this heavy-duty history the minute Hanrahan enters the attic at the outset of the play, having a serious “if these walls could talk” moment. Indeed, if they could talk, they’d say: “Victor stayed at home to help support his father, a casualty of the Depression, while his brother went off to medical school and lived the life of his dreams.” Both men believe they had a choice, and like many brothers, both believe the other made the wrong decision. It’s up to the audience to decide which brother has paid the higher price in life.
Though The Price isn’t one of Miller’s stronger pieces, Soulpepper has managed to pull off an immensely enjoyable night at the theatre, which will surely have many clinking their glasses and calling out, “Cheers!”
Michael Hanrahan and David Fox
The Price, Yonge Centre for the Performing Arts, runs until Oct. 22