Mild Miller: The Price at Wyndham’s Theatre
The Price
Theatre Royal Bath
Wyndham’s Theatre
Balcony C25, £14.50
12 March 2019
Delfont Mackintosh page
Until now I have worked on the assumption that an Arthur Miller play is always worth seeing. Now I ask, is it? Not that The Price is bad, but I found myself comparing it to the experience of watching Crimp’s When We Have Sufficiently Tortured Each Other. That I found very entertaining, but meaningless. The Price is meaningful, mildly so, and kind of entertaining, very mildly so.
Aside from the mildness, it has many of the Millerian attributes I expect. Speech defines character; revelation is naturalistic; character generates drama, and all the characters are credible, if exaggerated. But unusually, even skilfully, these ingredients foment almost no tension at all. Of course, some of that may be due to this particular production, but often the sag is in the play itself. The opening dialogue between husband and wife Vic and Esther goes on a long time without telling you more than you learnt in the first five minutes. The endless argument between Vic and his brother Walter strains credibility as over and over the brothers shift their position, retconning their histories in the light of each revelation.
These two examples, and the others like them, are explainable and therefore no doubt intentional. Miller shows us the comfort of Vic and Esther even as they strain away from each other: this is a couple where each person is so habituated to the other that what is said can almost be meaningless, so inconceivable is it that the status quo could ever change. It’s no surprise they’d have conversations where nothing happens. Ditto the wretched fraternal tug of war. Vic and Walter essentially one-up-man-ship each other as they toss the argument back and forth, showing off how immune each is to the confessions of the other. This entrenchment precipitates the finale: neither can forgive, the argument will never end. Even the embarrassment of observing this futile argument is explainable: like Esther, we watch on, helpless. It all makes good sense – but compelling drama? Afraid not.
So I was mildly interested but also mildly bored. What I could have done with more of was David Suchet as Solomon, a character who’s more of a palate cleanser between the static family wrangling. He’s straight-up entertainment, ideal fodder to a pro of Suchet’s calibre; Suchet chuckles and charms his way through the play with fine-tip nuance and solacing energy. But despite all this, and despite a delightfully ambiguous solo scene on the closing curtain, Solomon is essentially a bit character, there to spur the main characters on when they get stuck. Like the spectacular set by Simon Higlett, there’s only so much Suchet can do to drag The Price out of its slough of futility.
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