Just as Now, Voyager is the movie to watch if you have Mommy issues, Death of a Salesman is the movie to watch if you have Daddy issues. Seriously, if your father put pressure on you, made you feel like you were a disappointment, talked big when he was merely ordinary, or struggled with his own feelings of failure, you'll either flock to or stay far away from this movie. It will absolutely make you cry, and if your dad was any sort of salesman, just tear open that extra bottle of Kleenex now.
Fredric March plays the highly coveted role in the first film adaptation of Arthur Miller's famously dramatic play. He, his son Kevin McCarthy, and his wife Mildred Dunnock were nominated for Oscars in 1952, but nobody took home the gold. Freddie is scarily realistic and gives a truly heartbreaking performance. He plays a sixty-something salesman afraid that at the end of the day, he won't have mattered to anyone. He reflects on the failures of his life and struggles with hating himself, forgiving himself, placing all the expectations he couldn't meet onto his son Kevin. He vacillates between eternally hopeful and eternally depressed.
Mildred Dunnock could have taken her part and run with it, but for some reason, she decided to give a Beulah Bondi impression and bank on her frail stature to convince the audience she was frail on the inside. She didn't seem like she'd been a salesman's wife her entire life, or that she was as tired as her family kept saying she was. Kevin McCarthy was fantastic, though. He channeled Arthur Kennedy and delivered his lines with realism, passion, and pain.
Just as Carrie Fisher's issues weren't worked out by writing Postcards from the Edge, I highly doubt Arthur Miller's issues weren't worked out by writing this obvious tribute to the father he didn't like. This movie is extremely heavy, so if you like to bury your feelings about your dad, stay away: this one will probe your heart. It reminds me very much of Fences, so if you liked that modern tribute to a flawed father, you'll probably like this one.
Fredric March plays the highly coveted role in the first film adaptation of Arthur Miller's famously dramatic play. He, his son Kevin McCarthy, and his wife Mildred Dunnock were nominated for Oscars in 1952, but nobody took home the gold. Freddie is scarily realistic and gives a truly heartbreaking performance. He plays a sixty-something salesman afraid that at the end of the day, he won't have mattered to anyone. He reflects on the failures of his life and struggles with hating himself, forgiving himself, placing all the expectations he couldn't meet onto his son Kevin. He vacillates between eternally hopeful and eternally depressed.
Mildred Dunnock could have taken her part and run with it, but for some reason, she decided to give a Beulah Bondi impression and bank on her frail stature to convince the audience she was frail on the inside. She didn't seem like she'd been a salesman's wife her entire life, or that she was as tired as her family kept saying she was. Kevin McCarthy was fantastic, though. He channeled Arthur Kennedy and delivered his lines with realism, passion, and pain.
Just as Carrie Fisher's issues weren't worked out by writing Postcards from the Edge, I highly doubt Arthur Miller's issues weren't worked out by writing this obvious tribute to the father he didn't like. This movie is extremely heavy, so if you like to bury your feelings about your dad, stay away: this one will probe your heart. It reminds me very much of Fences, so if you liked that modern tribute to a flawed father, you'll probably like this one.