Show: “A View From the Bridge”
Company: Goodman Theatre
Venue: Goodman Theatre (170 N Dearborn)
The smell of sea salt is referenced multiple times in Arthur Miller’s “A View From the Bridge,” part and parcel of the story’s connection to ancient grudges growing from family obligations stretching back to Sicily. But in the play’s startling Ivo van Hove production, recently on Broadway and now remounted at the Goodman, I kept anticipating the smell of blood. I waited for it be spilled on the pristine white set, as anxious and unsettled as the characters headed for oblivion onstage. I knew there was nothing I could do to stop its arrival; I simply had to pay attention, and heed the lesson at the heart of this penetrating and powerful production.
Longshoreman Eddie Carbone (Ian Bedford) lives his life by a simple code: do right by your family, and protect them at all costs. He is particularly preoccupied with looking after his niece Catherine (Catherine Combs), a woman on the verge of her twenties who has lived with Eddie and his wife Beatrice (Andrus Nichols) for her entire childhood, and continues to do so in her emerging adulthood. Eddie and Catherine have settled into an uncomfortably flirtatious rhythm in recent years. Every day when he arrives home from the docks, she leaps into his arms, and wraps her legs around his waist. When he sits next to her, he absent-mindedly runs his hand up and down the length of her bare leg. Beatrice notes these gestures, but holds her tongue for the sake of peace in the household. Matters escalate with the arrival of Beatrice’s cousins from Italy; Marco (Brandon Espinoza) and Rodolpho (Daniel Abeles) enter the country illegally by ship, and work on the docks with Eddie in order to raise funds for family members back home. Eddie is happy to help out kin, but Rodolpho and Catherine take an instant interest in one another, and our protagonist’s disapproval eventually veers into obsession and results in violence.
Miller’s focus on the inevitability of tragedy is never stronger than in “View,” and van Hove’s stripped down presentation allows the script’s dread and anger to dominate the proceedings. By slicing away the realism centered in the home-set scenes, van Hove leaves only the actors to tell the story. Their bodies communicate fracturing and complicated bonds; their voices strain to reach scene partners across the wide white floor; the rhythm of their work prepares the audience for an awful outcome. Miller embraced Greek tragedy traditions up to a certain point, but stayed loyal to presenting the illusion of everyday life in his work. Ivo van Hove detaches the play entirely from reality, generating a sense that nothing in the world matters but Eddie’s desire. The result is a claustrophobic stage experience. The characters receive no relief; they cannot hide from one another, and you cannot look away from them. Serving as witness to this story carries its own weight and responsibility. When the show’s narrator, a lawyer named Alfieri (Ezra Knight), calls us to judge whether it is better to act in the community’s interest, rather than anguish in the purity of one’s own convictions, we are left to make the choice on our way out of the theater.
Bedford is a massive actor, and his frame sweeps across the space easily and with a sense of destiny. He plays Eddie as a man only half-aware of what he really wants; his fear always tips over into lashing out against and controlling the ones he loves. It is a tough performance, both sympathetic and frightening. Combs must be equally innocent of her affections, and only emerges as an independent adult slowly, with each passing scene, her inquiring mind driving her choices. Nichols could simply play a badgering wife, but she gives Beatrice’s needs complexity and dimension; the muting of her wants ends in her delivery of the play’s seminal line. Espinoza is appropriately intimidating in his solid quietness, and Abeles gives Rodolpho a sweetness and charm that proves in and of itself how wrong Eddie is about the boy’s masculinity and intentions towards Catherine.
The lights and sets by Jan Versweyveld are stark and square, a decision that often leaves the stage illuminated but the actors in shadow. As Combs and Bedford struggle with their desires, they sit in darkness, their voices alone carrying their questions to the audience. Costume designer An D’Huys lets Beatrice and Marco blend into the background with greys, while tracking Catherine’s changing feelings with blouses that first pop crayon colors, and eventually dim to black. Such design elements work in concert to reveal what the characters cannot.
When the blood finally arrives in “A View From the Bridge,” it provides no catharsis. As the actors stumble about the stage, splashed with color, there is no sense of relief, no discconection from pain and yearning. There is only the image, frozen in time, of men and women clutching at one another, always wanting more, but needing to settle for less.
TEN WORD SUMMARY: Brilliant staging of an American classic examines desire and choice.
RATING: d20 – “One Of The Best”