THE hulking figure of Brian Dennehy's salesman, Willy Loman, just goes to show that the larger the man, the harder the fall.

In the past, I have always seen the tragic hero of Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman played by diminutive actors, almost scuttling about the stage as they portray the sorry downfall of this average man with an impossible dream.

But Dennehy's lumbering height and girth become central to his character here as he battles with his own vulnerability.

Robert Falls' production, which arrived in London from the US in May and is staged by the entire original Broadway creative team, may run for almost three hours with just one interval but, by and large, you are kept enthralled to the very end.

Central to this, of course, is Arthur Miller's script. It is a sad tale of a 60-year-old family man in 1940s America who may sell for a living but has bought the American dream. He exists in a fantasy world in which the refrigerator with "the biggest ads of any of them" is the most reliable and success in business depends not on getting good marks at school, but on the philosophy "be liked and you will never want".

This magnificent play is a classic study of human failure and one man's struggle against self-deception, as Willy Loman forgets those important things in life like love and family in favour of pride, reputation and materialism.

Brian Dennehy gives his all to the part, portraying a Willy Loman who is as angry with the world as he is with his own shortcomings. He has the perfect all-American smile which turns so easily into a look of desperation or disappointment, as he bellows, sobs and pleads his way through his final days - and you cannot help but warm a little to this pitiful character.

He has great support from Clare Higgins as his long-suffering wife, Linda, whose life seems to be devoted to protecting and placating her husband as the fabric that holds his frayed life together unravels irreparably.

Howard Witt, too, is superb as Willy's kindly neighbour, Charley, finding a gentle humour in lines that lesser actors might simply skirt over, and once Douglas Henshall and Mark Bazeley settle into their roles as Biff and Happy Loman, they also give a great performance.

When this production was originally staged on Broadway in 1999, Arthur Miller was so impressed that he endorsed it as the official 50th anniversary show. As Death of a Salesman is a modern classic which every theatre lover should see, this, perhaps, is the finest example of how Miller imagined it himself.

  • Death of a Salesman plays at London's Lyric Theatre, Shaftesbury Avenue until November 5. For tickets, call 0870 890 1107.