Arthur Miller’s “A View from the Bridge,” playing at Arena Stage, is a Miller classic: On the surface, it deals with modern issues, while in fact exploring age-old, mythic themes.
Set in the Red Hook section of Brooklyn, “View” centers around several complicated relationships. The first is between a bull-headed Italian-American longshoreman, Eddie Carbone, and his 17-year-old orphaned niece, Catherine. She has been raised by Eddie and his wife, Beatrice. It quickly becomes apparent that Eddie’s feelings for Catherine are more than paternal.
Soon Beatrice’s cousins Marco and Rodolpho come from Italy illegally and live with the Carbones. At first the young men are welcomed, but the welcome turns sour as Rodolpho and Catherine grow close, which infuriates Eddie. In the end, Eddie confronts his inappropriate feelings for Catharine, but not before his jealousy has led him to turn over the illegal immigrants to the authorities.
In this production, David Agranov is excellent as the carefree Rodolpho, whose spirited desire to enjoy life is a perfect contradiction to Eddie’s heavy-handed, controlling manner. As Eddie, Delaney Williams’ dialect meanders a bit away from Brooklyn, but he captures the longshoreman’s headstrong, self-destructive spirit.
Virginia Kull plays Catherine at a slightly higher than necessary pitch and speed, but she neatly displays the contradictions of Catherine’s heart. Naomi Jacobson is forceful as Eddie’s frustrated and unappreciated wife, as is Louis Cancelmi as Marco. As Mr. Lipari, J. Fred Shiffman coolly provides an unflappable contrast to the Carbones.
Director Daniel Aukin has done a fine job of creating the atmosphere in which these combustible characters group together, only to have their relationships explode violently. Loy Arcenas’ set is a clever combination of indoor/outdoor spaces, the dock area suggested by a cinder block background off to one side, the Carbone dining room dominating the rest of the stage.
Nancy Schertler’s effective lighting design extends the stage to create unexpected performance spaces. Michael Keck’s pulsing music underscores the profundity of Miller’s drama, which begins with the story of a simple, hard-working man and ends with a thorough examination of jealousy, suspicion, honor and betrayal.
