The Price
(L-R) Mike Durkin, Cullen Wheeler, Bill Barry
(Photo: Joe Pacifico)
By Fern Siegel (Posted March 1)
Arthur Miller never shied from exposing familial pain — or how devastating secrets can be. In his 1968 Tony-nominated The Price, he draws on his own experiences, noting that resentment and regret exact the highest price.
Now off-Broadway at Theatre at St. Clements, a moving ensemble of four talented actors — Bill Barry, Janelle Faris Sando, Mike Durkin and Cullen Wheeler. They talk, bicker and haggle over past hurts, while ridding themselves of a deceased father’s possessions, perfectly represented in The Village Theater Group’s set design.
Miller examines the price we pay for the choices we make — and the illusions that sustain us.
The setting is a condemned Manhattan brownstone. Once a family home, the Depression relegated the bankrupt Franz family to the top floor. There, the late father and his policeman son Victor (Barry), eked out an existence, despite being surrounded by valuables. Victor sacrificed his dreams to care for his broken father. His estranged brother Walter (Wheeler), refusing to be sidelined by paternal despair, returns 16 years later as a wealthy surgeon.
The stage is set for an emotional maelstrom. The brother’s reunion is a clash of guilt, responsibility and moral reflection. As Walter says: “We invent ourselves, Vic, to wipe out what we know.”
Is Victor devoted and Walter selfish? Is the father to blame for their outcomes? Is there a moral debt owed? Should the estate’s possessions be sold quickly, as Victor prefers, or negotiated for a higher price, per Walter? As the play unfolds, Victor’s sacrifice seems both tragic and inescapable.
The attic is filled with elegant reminders of the family’s once-privileged state. But disposal requires the services of the charming 89-year-old appraiser Gregory Solomon (a scene-stealing Durkin, whose every gesture is neatly calibrated). He warns Victor not to be emotional. The beautiful things are remnants of another era; they don’t fit in the modern world.
As Victor and his wife (Sando) revisit their disappointments, the Franz family dynamics surface. Barry is perfect as the often-bewildered son determined to do right. Sando is equally adept at expressing her own desperation, often via alcohol, while eager to better their lot. Wheeler smartly captures the vulnerability and insecurity beneath his affluent demeanor. Yet he retains the power of distance, asking Victor: “Did it ever occur to you that our father exploited you?”
Director Noelle McGrath has chosen her cast well and the strong production underscores why the play is often revived. It also poignantly revisits a favorite Miller theme: the difficulties between fathers and sons. The Price explores the rough terrain between individual and familial necessity and the heartbreaking contradictions that define our lives.