Mike Tweddle makes his directorial debut at the Tobacco Factory with a sure-footed production of this American classic.  The various strands to this tale are woven around the dark, atavistic heart of a form of tribalism that insists on a kind of natural justice; the justice of the clan, which binds together the Italian immigrant community of New York. To cut one’s teeth as it were on something so archetypally American is a brave move, but we’re happy to report it has been done with no small success. His conjuring of the necessary milieu, given the limited resources of an in-the-round production suggests an eye (and ear) for telling detail.

He keeps the strands under tight control ensuring we are not baffled by the complexity of Miller’s foray into Greek tragedy. Thankfully Mr Tweddle was not tempted to give full throat to the chorus-like possibilities of Alfieri (Simon Armstrong) who, with a detached, avuncular concern, held our hands as he narrated his way through what he reminded us was a case of Fate working its way through the life of a flawed longshoreman. Flawed that is in the sense of being in the grip of a passion that he was unable to control or fully understand.

This is where Mr Tweddle shows his assuredness in ensuring the strands do not become tangled or ill defined. It is Eddie’s wife, Beatrice (Katy Stevens) who intuits the true nature of Eddie’s hostility towards the immigrant Rodolpho. It is not, as he repeatedly insists, a concern to prevent Catherine being manipulated into a loveless marriage of convenience, but jealousy, born of a transgressive attachment which leads ultimately to his destruction.

Laura Waldren gives Catherine a peart and guileless innocence that seeps into confusion and finally a self-determining will, which frees her from the forces that threaten destruction around her.  Ms Stephens, as Beatrice, gives a clear account of that inner strength required of women living in a macho world to prevent them from becoming mere appendages. Childless and (physically) unsatisfied she yet remains the unbending keel of the family.

The brothers, Marco and Rodolpho, have that nagging air of anxiety that is the inevitable lot of the illegal immigrant; Rodolpho, the dreamer, having in addition an openness and sincerity against which Eddie’s jealous accusations are all the more ugly.

Mark Letheren as Eddie gives us a man amongst men, a proud American, controlling and neglectful in equal measure, the uncomprehending incubator of an obsession. This is one of the best interpretations of a specific type of American we have seen. With him there is none of that unease we sometimes feel when the accent is overdone and ‘stagey’. The level of his success was marked for me at a couple of points: that ‘homosexual’ kiss that so troubled and confused its 50’s audience – was it a test or something else? – left me at least in no doubt it was the former as he exulted in his supposed ‘outing’ of the punk. Then again there was the cry of pain when he demanded the return of his ‘name’. It was the cry of someone who knew that once lost it was impossible to retrieve and meant his absolute rejection by the tribe. It signalled the final triumph of Fate.

This is an accomplished production of what remains a compelling play and re-establishes the Tobacco Factory as a regional producing theatre of national importance.   ★★★★☆    Graham Wyles     25^th April 2018

Photo by Mark Dawson