By Karen Campbell, Globe Correspondent, 08/24/99

WILLIAMSTOWN - Ostensibly, "the price" of Arthur Miller's classic play of the same name refers to the worth of a houseful of old furniture, as two long-estranged brothers meet to dispose of the contents of their childhood home. In fairly quick order, however, it becomes clear that the more compelling 'price" in Miller's play refers to that which we all pay at some point for the major choices we make in life. In the case of brothers Victor and Walter Franz, that price turns out to be higher than either has been willing to admit for more than 16 years, resulting in guilt, shame, envy, anger, and boatloads of regret.

Williamstown Theatre Festival has fashioned a riveting new production of Miller's play. As directed by Williamstown veteran James Naughton, the play is both wickedly funny and painfully tragic, sometimes veering between the two with breathtaking shifts of dynamics, a caustic one-liner leading to a sharp-edged barb that tears at the heart with its blistering familiarity.

Set in 1966, the play begins as a dialogue between Victor (Jeffrey DeMunn) and his wife, Esther (Lizbeth Mackay), as they survey the detritus of his late father's life, a room crammed to the rafters with furniture and memorabilia, ranging from unwieldy chests and wardrobes to old records, a hand-built radio, even an old fencing foil.

Laughter turns slightly sour as good-natured banter evolves into sharp-edged marital bickering, revealing the crux of the play's theme - for 28 years, Victor has settled for a job as a cop when an interrupted education thwarted his plans to go into science like his big brother. While Walter (Harris Yulin) went on to a career, money, and respect as a doctor, Victor cared for his aging, manipulative father, devastated by the stock market crash of 1929. Esther believes the time has come for Victor to retire and move on with the life they have been planning for almost three decades. Victor is paralyzed by both inertia and the same fear of failure that led to his original choice of self-sacrifice and duty. "I fear that I regret it all more than I realize and I'm afraid to face it," he admits.

The entrance of the lively, nearly 90-year-old Jewish furniture appraiser, Gregory Solomon (Bob Dishy), infuses the play with broad humor. Written almost as a caricature and played by Dishy with a heavy dose of Alan King, Solomon's chatty, heavily accented colloquialisms, zingy one-liners, and infuriatingly tangential digressions turn the appraisal into a delightful philosophical spiel on the disposable society America has become.

The second act centers on the arrival of Walter, and the brothers' guarded reunion is full of festering grievances and startling disclosures, with Esther playing both unwitting victim and mediator to the aborted reconciliation. It is a powerful, searing confrontation that mines the kind of complex dynamics underlying nearly every family and the actors handle it superbly, erupting in passionate displays of raw emotion.

DeMunn gives a beautifully calibrated performance as Victor, his slight stoop of the shoulders and vivid pal ette of mannerisms betraying both clenched fury and a sense of failure as he reels from tightly coiled self-control to explosive moments of self-revelation.

 Yulin's Walter warms to the occasion, subtly shifting from the magnanimous, slightly distant older brother to a man past his own crisis of faith and finally in command of his destiny, willing to take responsibility for his actions.

Mackay beautifully portrays the quiet desperation and anger eroding Esther's dreams, ambition, and self-esteem to one final act of resignation. The real tragedy captured by Miller's play is, as Miller calls it, "a paralyzing vision of repetition.''

This story ran on page C03 of the Boston Globe on 08/24/99.
Copyright 1999 Globe Newspaper Company.