“Death of a Salesman” at Winter Garden Theatre, New York
Glenda Frank on Broadway
★★★★☆
29 April 2026
I’ve had mixed feelings about Arthur Miller. Not about his importance in the canon, but about the plays themselves. They can be talky and the women can be stereotypes. While poignant, Death of a Salesman (1949) as a specific case can be leaden. But under Joe Mantello’s direction (Tony Awards for Assassins and Take Me Out) in a new production at the Winter Garden Theatre, the play bursts with life.
Christopher Abbott and Ben Ahlers.
Photo credit: Emilio Madrid.
Three roles that had always seemed flat have become vibrant portraits, with a depth and powerful emotions that don’t just sit on the edge of the stage but radiate throughout the theatre. No longer are the Lomans a family spiraling downward, but rather people coming to grips with their dreams and their choices. I hurt for each of them more than I had when I first read the play and saw my own father in Willy, a man who was dismissed by his company when he neared retirement age. Salesman hit a nerve and may have contributed to the 1967 legislation against age discrimination.
At 60, Willy Loman is a man used up by his company. His self-absorbed boss refuses to transfer him from a traveling role to a desk job. His wife has spotted the hose attached to the furnace for a planned suicide. He has had car accidents, displays erratic behavior and confusion, and is continually conflating the past with the present. Perhaps this is the onset of Alzheimer’s?
Nathan Lane, again shedding his comic clothing, brings more than stooped shoulders and panic to the role. It’s an electric performance. The hints of a powerful salesman never abandon him, and this is achieved through tonal shifts and pace and subtle changes in body language. Lane brings us Willy both as the optimistic family man and the aging father wrestling with the recognition of his sons’ failures.
The sons are appealing in distinct ways. As Happy, Ben Ahlers (Broadway debut) is a puppy, eager to comfort his parents with false promises and himself with married women, his compensation for a stagnant career. Christopher Abbott (Danny and the Deep Blue Sea) brings a powerful stage presence. He has crafted Biff into a character who is always engaging. The second act is his.
It is easy to see the dramatic arc as the play turns our gaze from father to son. Too often in productions, the actors playing the sons struggle to emerge from Willy’s long shadow. Early in the first act, Mantello places their bedroom downstage, flanking the industrial set by Chloe Lamford. Jack Knowles’ lighting design signals their importance. Mantello’s Salesman is a family drama, these slights adjustments widen the inclusivity of our gaze.
Laurie Metcalf as Linda.
Photo credit: Emilio Madrid.
But the biggest and best surprise is Laurie Metcalf as Linda Loman. Tempered only in her compassion for Willy, Metcalf’s Linda puts her foot down with a force that makes the timbers shake. The boys love her, but they also fear her. There are lines in the script that reinforce Metcalf’s dramatic choices, lines I had barely heard before. Miller has been accused of not creating dimensional women, but this production indicates the flaw might have been in the vision of earlier directors, not the script.
The first and most important stage image is an automobile, its headlights glaring into our eyes. It is a powerful symbol of a changing America and Willy’s breakdown. Early automobiles were expensive luxuries, but after World War II and the development of the suburbs, they became necessities, part and parcel of the American Dream. The car is Willy’s alter-ego, a tool of the trade and a barometer of his mental health. He can no longer steer straight; he veers into danger and self-harm. The small Brooklyn home is also a symbol of Willy’s life. It is dwarfed by the new construction around it. The sunlight has been disappearing. When Willy is at his lowest, he buys seeds and tries to plant them in his backyard at night.
The seed for this production was planted 30 years ago, when Lane and Mantello first worked together on Love! Valour! Compassion! Mantello promised to direct him in Death of a Salesman, but the promise sounded strange even to him at the onset of their careers. Thirty years of planning went into his staging, all on a back burner while the two men tackled other projects. This breakthrough production not only burnishes the talent of these performers but also those of the playwright. It is a masterful revival and reassessment of Miller.
