Salesman in China: the extraordinary comedy and drama of cultural differences
13 Aug 2024 - Photos by David Hou

Salesman in China is an extraordinary imagining of an unusual moment in theatre and in US/China relations. While co-writers Leanna Brodie and Jovanni Sy did copious research this is not a documentary, Salesman in China is a theatrical event. Sy also directs and he unleashes across a minimal and versatile set by Joanna Yu, a cavalcade of nuanced performances framed by vibrant scene and mood setting projections by Chimerik (Caroline MacCaull and Sammy Chien). All the pieces mesh with precision, taking the audience seamlessly backstage, onto the stage, across China, and even into the past. Even when memory plays out against the main plot, there is no question of where we are and what is happening. There is a similar approach to the words in the text. Much of the play is in Mandarin and the subtitles translate for the majority of the audience while the English is translated into Mandarin. It is initially disconcerting until a pivotal moment when the subtitles dramatically become part of the action, the plot, itself and bleed into the play itself. Not only a stunning theatrical device but also a breathtaking statement of theme.

The play revolves around legendary Chinese actor Ying Ruocheng who invites the playwright Arthur Miller to consult/direct a version of his classic Death of a Salesman, a quintessentially American play. China did not have door to door salesmen or life insurance, but that was only the beginning of the difficulties of translating the play into something a Chinese audience would understand and accept. In 20224, audiences are used to seeing productions of canonical texts seen through different cultural lens, theatre companies roam the world with startling and illuminating interpretations. In this case, Miller was insistent that the play remain American, just with Chinese actors, though—there is the subtitle metaphor again—he spoke no Mandarin and could not have known if the text had been mistranslated or altered. The Chinese actors are pros and just want to understand and create performances that have verisimilitude. Cue the comedy and drama of cultural misunderstandings.

Adrian Pang gives a riveting performance as Ying Ruocheng. He struggles to authentically present Willy Loman but, aside from the cultural confusion, he is unsure of why the play speaks so powerfully to him. When he faces the horrors from his past that are the root of his identification, it triggers a breakdown that is devastating. To see an artist so in control of his craft, and his emotional temperature, explode is shocking and shakes the theatre. Working with him, pitted against him, is Tom McCamus (Hedda Gabler, King Lear, Queen Goneril) who is an Arthur Miller wracked with both a fear of his own relevance and a secret from his past. He insists that the play is about "fathers and sons," which is a gross oversimplification but also the key to unlocking their commonality. They agree on Ruocheng's insight that "every father wants his son to be a dragon." Ruocheng struggles to get a refrigerator, an unknown appliance in China, prop just right, Miller alienates the mask and wig makers resulting in a horrific and hilarious sight gag that illustrates just how alien the Americans are to the Chinese. The audience is continually shifted between viewpoints.

Agnes Tong is the actress tasked with playing Willy's mistress and she balks at the costume she is given, insisting it will make her appear to be a slut. The lingerie turns out to belong to Miller's photographer wife Inge Morath played by Sarah Orenstein (Grand Magic). Morath has made the effort to understand China which Miller has not. But even her forays to photograph are supervised by Ruocheng's wife Wu Shiliang played by an imperious and droll Jo Chim who gets to wring the sharpest lines out of the bleakest horror. Her facade never cracks but we see right through it. Steven Hao (Romeo and Juliet, A Midsummer's Night Dream, Cockroach) plays the translator of Death of a Salesman into Mandarin, but is also the one most stubbornly resistant to American habits or explaining Chinese culture. He is a mirror of Miller, placing them in direct conflict. Derek Kwan (The Cave, Blood Weddings, Mr Shi and His Lover, A Synonym for Love) is the artistic director of the theatre but is also being pressured by the Communist party who have their own agenda. The negotiations between him and Ruocheng and Miller, then between Ruocheng and Miller, are full of tension and the unspoken.

The actress Zhu Lin who plays Linda Loman gets a snappy interpretation by Phoebe Hu. She is struggling to understand this woman who is so far from her practical frame of reference. She just wants to know how to act the character, but when she does understand, she creates a Linda Loman for the ages, even if we are reading the words in subtitles. Because Salesman in China is also a ecstatic hymn to the power of theatre. As we watch these artists struggle to connect, to embrace the unfamiliar, to heal their wounds by tearing them open, to create the best production they can, Salesman in China reveals just how universal the art of storytelling is. Of how subtitles and translations are just one way of communicating. That the artistry of theatre, which this production excels at, combines the visual, the aural and very soul of connection. That the things that make us different are the things that bring us together. When a propaganda ballet is illustrated on stage we are encouraged to laugh or be outraged, yet we also can't help but admire the beauty. Salesman in China untangles the propaganda, grappling with weighty ideas but embracing on a gut level all while revelling in the beauty of theatre. Extraordinary.