By David Gordon
While watching Arthur Miller’s 1955 drama “A View from the Bridge,” now playing at the Adams Playhouse, one realizes that it could have been written last month. With issues of illegal immigration and homophobia taking the forefront, it’s no wonder the drama department chose to produce this play. Peter Sander’s production goes to show taboo topics from yesteryear, topics which, in context, may have been construed as “un-American,” are still just as taboo today.
Italian-American longshoreman Eddie Carbone (Jeremy Benson) is a family man, a hero to his wife Beatrice (Megan Lanzarone), and niece Catherine (Kelli Bavaro). When Beatrice’s cousins, Marco and Rodolpho (Patrick Marran and Andrew Huber), enter the country illegally in the hopes of finding work, the family decides to secretly harbor them, despite Eddie’s fears that there are government informants on every corner.
As Catherine falls in love with Rodolpho, the charming singer and dressmaker who Eddie claims “isn’t right,” Eddie slowly starts to realize that his own feelings for her are more than paternal.
Narrated by Alfieri (Kyle Cheng), the Carbone family lawyer, “A View from the Bridge” documents Eddie’s downward spiral. Given the fact that the theme is that of an “Oedipus Rex”-like Greek tragedy along with the fact that it is an Arthur Miller play, one can assume that the outcome isn’t going to be pleasant.
Although the reason why Miller decided to make use of a Greek chorus-like narrator wasn’t precisely clear, Kyle Cheng makes the most of the part. His strong presence and style fits Sander’s noir version of the play very well. Patrick Marran is a strong and downright creepy Marco. A platinum blonde Andrew Huber is a charmer as Rodolpho. It’s no wonder that Kelli Bavaro’s na’ve Catherine instantly falls in love.
Playing the leads are the indomitable Jeremy Benson and Megan Lanzarone. Benson’s Eddie is hulking, moody and a complete victim of circumstance. While his attraction to Catherine doesn’t always come across, it is still a deeply-layered, conflicted and frightening performance that can only be described as Tony Soprano circa 1955.
His attraction to Catherine is perhaps more evident in the shattering performance of Megan Lanzarone as Beatrice. It’s clear she knows Eddie has designs on Catherine, yet still manages to keep the traditional stiff upper lip of a ’50s housewife. Strong-willed and unafraid to have fun, when she collapses, it’s impossible not to feel it.
The rest of the cast is very strong as well, especially Louis Aquiler and Richard Pepio, who succeed in the especially tough task of providing comic relief.
David Henderson’s set is Spartan (“skeletal entirely,” as Miller put it) and eye-catching. The silhouette of the Brooklyn Bridge, present for the entire performance, is gorgeous. Cheryl McCarron’s costumes are period perfect and Rychard Curtiss’ lighting is unobtrusive and appropriately glum. The accents (with dialect coaching by Ilona Pierce) are spot-on, despite a few lost words here and there.
Under the careful and enormously satisfying direction of Sander, this production stays true to Miller’s stage directions while maintaining an original, noir-esque style.
It’s interesting to see how Miller’s script is still very relevant today. In an era where the two hottest debates are about immigration and gay rights, viewers start to realize that some things never change.