A Re-Imagining Of the End of Death of a Salesman

So here's a piece I had to put together for my script analysis final last semester. I feel absurd posting this, but I enjoyed the way it turned out. All apologies to Arthur Miller.

This re-imagining of the end of Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman begins in the final pages of the original Act II. Biff’s first line, which opens the following text, is the original line. The breaking point from the original text is Willy’s “Nothing? My son, nothing?” This is in replacement of the original line “What’re you doing? What’re you doing? Why is he crying?” My re-imagining continues from there.

Biff: (At the peak of his fury) Pop, I’m nothing! I’m nothing, Pop. Can’t you understand that? There’s no spite in it any more. I’m just what I am, that’s all.

(Biff’s fury has spent itself, and he breaks down, sobbing, holding on to Willy, who dumbly fumbles for Biff’s face.)

Willy: (astonished) Nothing? My son, nothing?

Biff: (crying, broken) We’re nothing! It’s us, it’s all of us. We’re nothing. We’re broken.

(Willy puts his arms around Biff – they are both on their knees at the foot of their stairs. Biff has broken down, and Willy holds him, seemingly dumbfounded. A moment passes in shocked silence except for Biff sobbing.)

Happy: (Indignant, breaking the silence) No! I’m more than you. I’ve got promise! You might be nothing, but you’ll never keep me down. I won’t let you.

Biff: (Breaking away from Willy.) More than me? (He stands up, slowly.)

Happy: (Hesitant) Yeah, yeah that’s right. (Happy paces away briefly, avoiding looking at either Biff or Willy) I’m going to be the one who finishes what Pop started.

Biff: (staring him down, incredulous) Have you even been paying attention?

Happy: (defiant) I’m going to beat this racket. I’m gonna prove –

Biff: (cutting him off) Prove what? That you’re a big man? That you’ve got what it takes to be something? Good luck, big man! Good luck!

Happy: (Angry) I’m gonna prove that Pop was right!

Biff: Haven’t you listened to anything! He’s wrong! He’s always been wrong!

Happy: (On the brink) I won’t believe that!

Biff: Wake up, Happy! It’s been a lie! You’re a lie! What have you done that’ll be remembered? What part of you matters to anyone?

Happy: I matter more than you do! I’m somebody right now, I’m the assistant –

(Happy stops short. Everyone stares at him. Ben appears in the light just outside the kitchen.)

Biff: (quietly) Go on, big man. What are you the assistant of?

(Happy shouts, and jumps at Biff. The two wrestle, shouting, neither gaining an upper hand.

(Willy watches, dismay turning to disbelief and growing anger. Ben comes into the kitchen, stands next to Willy.)

Ben: It does take a great kind of man to crack the jungle.

Willy: (quietly) He cried. He cried to me. I made him cry.

Ben: A great kind of man…

(Willy comes to his feet with more surety than we have seen from him before. Biff and Willy are still wrestling.)

Willy: (thunderous) Stop this!

(Biff stops his struggle, trying to detach from Happy. Happy doesn’t – it seems like he wants to choke the life from Biff)

Willy: I said stop! Happy! Get off of him! (Lurches over to Happy, pulls him off of Biff) What do you think you’re doing? This is your brother! Your own!

Happy: (furious, crying) Don’t you see what he’s doing to you, Pop? He’s a failure, he’s worth nothing, and he’s just trying to throw it back on you!

Willy: No, no, Hap. (pauses, hesitating, everything drawn up inside of him)

Ben: A great kind of man, Willy.

Willy: He’s right. He’s right, he’s right – I’m the failure, I’m the wreck. My boy, my son, I’ve lead you so wrong.

Happy: (Confused) Pop?

(Willy collapses into the kitchen chair next to him. The rubber hose is lying in his eyesight. He picks it up.)

Willy: I was so sure that I could do it, so sure. Twenty thousand, paid in full for Biff – his inheritance.

Biff: (Shocked in sudden realization) Willy, why?

Willy: So sure. But every time, I stopped myself, couldn’t push myself, couldn’t do it – (looks at Biff) You were going to be magnificent.

Biff: I’ve never been magnificent, boss. Not once.

Willy: You’re my son. I’m supposed to give you a chance. You’re supposed to make it where I couldn’t.

Biff: And I need more than this. I’m not made to be a salesman’s son, Willy. I’m what you’ve made me, fighting with what I really am. We’ve had the wrong dreams, Willy. You had the wrong dream. That’s what I know. I’m going to try where you couldn’t, Willy. I’m going to try and be me, in every way you never could. The door to my life closed a long time ago, and you’re the one who slammed it shut. I’m just groping in the dark now. That’s what I know.

Ben: (from behind Biff, to Willy) The jungle is dark, but full of diamonds. (Puts his hand on Biff’s shoulder) And it does take a great kind of man to crack the jungle.

(Ben’s music plays, and he leaves the house, whistling.)

Happy: (to Willy) You goddamned coward. You were going to do that to mom, to me? For him? I can’t believe you.

Biff: I think that’s the first completely honest thing you’ve said in years.

Happy: And you. You’re just leaving, again, then? Leaving him like this, for nothing.

Biff: I’m leaving for me. Because there’s nothing here. Why don’t you come with me, Happy?

Happy: (shaking his head) Hell with that. I won’t be licked that easily. I’m staying right in this city, and I’m gonna beat this racket. Like you should have.

Biff: I know who I am, big man.

Happy: (Ready to storm out the door) I’m gonna show you and everybody else that Willy Loman’s dream is the only one you can have. The only one that’ll get you anywhere – to come out number-one man. (Exits out the front door. Silence falls.)

Linda: He’ll come back.

Biff: Oh yeah, he’ll come back. He’ll be back when his resolve breaks, or when that game breaks him. Or he won’t.

Willy: Son?

Biff: (Moving to him) What is it, boss?

Willy: I feel so tired.

Linda: Alright, Willy. Come to bed.

(She takes him by the arm, and leads him to the stairs and up, offstage. Biff helps until they reach the stairs. He stands at the bottom of the stairs, staring out the window at the sky. Biff goes up the stairs to the bedroom that used to be his. Puts on his jacket solemnly, picks up a duffle bag. He looks around the room, tucks Happy’s bedsheet in, making the bed neat. He walks downstairs, leaving. The flute plays, Willy’s theme, escorting his son out into the night.)

Requiem

(We see Biff front stage, working. We get the impression that he is working in a stable, maybe lifting hay or brushing down a horse. He looks healthier. He stands straighter, his shoulders not so slumped and heavy. He whistles Willy’s flute theme. Behind him, Happy enters, his bearing crushed. He looks defeated, he looks exhausted. Happy watches Biff working, not saying a word. Biff finished his chore and stands up, turning around. He sees Happy, and smiles.)

Biff: Happy.

Happy: Heya, Biff. Your boss said you’d be out here.

(There is a pause, both wanting to say something)

Biff: Three years, and here you are.

Happy: (frankly) I’m so tired of baring my teeth when I smile. (He stops, not wanting to say it.) Biff, I had to come tell you, I had to –

Biff: (nodding) Willy?

Happy: (Bowing his head.) He was tired. Mom said he just, went to sleep one night, and when she woke up in the morning, he was smiling, cold. He’s, the boss is dead, Biff.

Biff (moves to Happy, putting a steady hand on his shoulder.) He was a broken man, Happy, for so long. We all were. (Happy looks up at him) Now, now we are something else.

Happy (confused) What are we now, Biff?

Biff (smiling gently) We’re his sons, that hasn’t changed. But now we’re free. We’re free.

CURTAIN