A View From the Bridge

Abstract

The Arthur Miller Society (arthurmillersociety.net/upcoming-productions/) lists only “adult” productions of Miller's plays on its -website, but the -omission of high school productions has less to do with their value than a matter of space. High schools throughout the United States are -continually mounting Miller productions, albeit most usually The -Crucible. With its large cast and frequent use on exam syllabi, it seems a natural choice. However, once in a while high schoolers can be seen performing other Miller plays, and the results can be as interesting as any professional production.Moses Brown School takes drama very seriously; they mount two dramas in repertory every fall, a musical in the spring, and over their winter -trimester, they have students produce their own full-length plays. These performances are student chosen, directed, managed, and performed. I reported once before on a production the school mounted one fall of -Miller's version of Enemy of the People (AMJ 10.1, 2015), but now A View From the Bridge has been presented as one of these winter student -productions. Full disclosure, my own son, Harry Wasser, both co-directed and starred as Eddie in this production (without any urging from me, I might add); Trey Sullivan assisted in the direction. At the risk of seeming nepotistic, I would like to share what I saw, as they had a few ideas that really struck me as interesting.In a brief director's speech prior to the performance, Wasser outlined his vision of the play. Pointing to Miller's working title, An Italian Tragedy, he focused our attention on the fact that this was very much a play about Italians, indeed, even more specifically, Sicilians, and their deep-seated codes of honor. Eddie Carbone's utter betrayal of this honor was what underlined the production, more so than his feelings for Catherine. Indeed, in Wasser's presentation, Eddie's view of Catherine was predominantly paternal, if somewhat that of an old-fashioned patriarchal turn. Those who saw Sidney Lumet's 1962 film version of the play with Raf Vallone playing Eddie, with an actual Italian accent (Wasser chose to stick with a Brooklyn one), would be familiar with such a presentation. Also, Catherine, as played by Paris Evans, is more the eager bubbly teenager than a seductress. She loves and admires Eddie as one would a caring father figure. While Beatrice (Kelsey Martirano) and Catherine vie for Eddie's attention and approval, Wasser's Eddie is more concerned with what he feels is Rodolpho's aberrance and disrespect.The play was performed in a small black box with the audience at one end on risers and a very simple set, managed by Elias Reville. Just a small table and four chairs; an armchair with a small table adjacent to hold an ashtray, whiskey bottle, and glasses; and a telephone, made up the furnishings. The table doubled as the Carbone's dining table covered with a cloth, and plain wood for Alfieri's office. The armchair became a focal point and seat of power, much as the one in The Price. It is mostly Eddie's “throne” from where he pronounces how things are to be, but there is one scene toward the close of act 1 when Marco calmly takes the spot.The inevitability of what Eddie would be led to do to try and remove what he views as a green-card-seeking playboy from his home was emphasized in a couple of ways. First, the phone on which Eddie would make his fateful call was not a public booth, but the Carbone's home phone, constantly there on stage right next to Eddie's armchair. When the family discusses the fate of Vinny Bolzano, the neighborhood kid who ratted out his own uncle to immigration, a beam of light brightens the phone, and later, when Alfieri is crying after Eddie “Put it out of your mind! Eddie!” it is again spotlighted as Eddie dials and gives up his relatives to immigration (only the second of these is suggested in the stage directions). Given that immigration and undocumented labor are once again hot topics, there were audible gasps from the audience as they heard to whom Eddie was speaking.The other means of emphasizing the inevitable was the clever way they used the song “Paper Doll” throughout the production. One of the cast members, Jonathan Rosenzweig (who also played Mike and one of the Immigration Officers), being a talented violinist, created a recording of the song at different tempos that played at various points of the play, aside from when the actual record is played in the script. At the very start, even before Alfieri's opening monologue, there was a dumb show with Marco (-Jackson Mello) and Rodolpho (Alexander Runci) leaving behind Marco's wife as they set off for the States, during which this music played at a -regular tempo, to identify it with Rodolpho early on and mark them both as -catalysts for change in Eddie's life. The dumb show was also another way the Italian -connection was brought to the fore.After the couple's arrival, when Rodolpho is meant to burst into song, rather than actually sing “Paper Doll,” Runci mimed the singing with grand hand gestures while the violin played the tune. This tune continues to echo throughout the play to remind us of Eddie's key dilemma: “it's tough to love a doll that's not your own.” Despite the fact he complains to Alfieri that Rodolpho is “stealing” Catherine from him, this is, after all, America, and people cannot own people (at least in 1956). The tune plays again in an eerie triple measure (each note repeated thrice) when Marco raises the chair to threaten Eddie at the close of act 1 and finally with a mournful largo in act 2, building as Marco and Eddie fight in front of a semicircle of neighbors, to playing more softly at the close where Eddie lies dying with Beatrice and Catherine on either side, and Alfieri gives his final speech.Another choice that had an interesting resonance was the fact that Wasser is a natural blonde. Runci's Rodolpho was also blonde, but clearly a color job, that only further suggested his selfish personal spending habits, along with his “pointy pair new shoes” and “snappy new jacket.” A few lines were adapted to accommodate for the fact that Eddie, too, was blonde, but having them both with the same hair color also served to link the two as potentially equal rivals in Catherine's affection as opposed to opposites—albeit this Eddie does not harbor any sexual longing.Peter Zubiago's Alfieri was also a standout performance, and an -interesting inflection on the role. Most versions of Alfieri that I have witnessed have tended to present the role as fairly low-key, as men comfy with their decision to settle for half, calmly offering their view on events from the sidelines. Zubiago, however, offered a far more passionate rendition of the character, clearly tortured by the characters and events he relates to us. This helped build tension, but also draw more attention to the role of this integral character. More than once he bemoans his inability to have stopped events but leaves a nice question mark hanging in the air; after all, he knew all along what would happen as he tells us from the start, and yet he does not intervene and even allows Marco out of jail to attack his betrayer.What struck me most forcefully with this production was how much the audience, predominantly parents and students, evidently enjoyed it, and were openly vocal about this. Many had been unfamiliar with the play and were firmly caught up in the drama in a way that I do not always see. This proved to me once again that it is not just the acting and production that make a Miller play worth seeing, but the writing itself.