I'm not a huge fan of Arthur Miller. And I can't quite put my finger on why. As he's undoubtedly very popular and undoubtedly very talented.

I wasn't going to bother with the Lyceum's View From The Bridge. But my Secret Rapture sister expressed an interest in seeing it so I went along with this to see her more than the show. Drunken stepmother came too. And we were quite the happily re-united band.

I've seen the play once before. In the Festival in 1997 in one of the tall thin buildings along Princes Street which was going under the C banner at the time. I remember almost nothing about the production aside from the fact that it was exceeding hot in the venue, we'd already seen two or maybe three shows that day - and it was only mid-afternoon - and I - surprise - struggled to stay awake. Some things don't change.

It was a bit of a week, last week, so my full attention could not have been said to be undividedly on the stage. But I stayed awake almost all the way through it. Only falling asleep (exceedingly carelessly) in the final ten to fifteen minutes. Like Mr Hope in Metropia, this won't have helped my understanding of the overall plot. But sister / drunk stepm filled me in so I don't think I missed out too badly.

Given these shameful circumstances, it's perhaps unfair of me to pass any kind of comment on the overall production. But as that has never stopped me before, it shall not stop me now.

Even though I'm a little tentative in my reaction.

As I didn't think it was amazing.

And lots of other people appear to have.

The Lyceum - who are proving to be masters of social media - have done a fabulous job of retweeting popular delirious excitement about the production since it opened.

The reviews have been pretty overwhelmingly positive.

And then I found this rhapsody on the blog of A Man Of Whom I Know (is a more accurate description than A Man I Know).

And this made me doubt myself a little bit more.

The simple trouble is - great play, great story. Fabulous story in fact. If a little histrionic. But the performances. Well, they were good. But not outstanding. (Says she.)

Patriarch Eddie did the big blustery bully bit very well. But I didn't see much of what made his girls (wife and niece) adore him as they so clearly did. The lawyer, Alfieri, was capable enough but appeared to keep fluffing his lines. Though perhaps, as (fake) sister said, this was supposed to be a character trait that just hideously backfired. The two incomers, Marco and Rodolpho, were sweet enough boys but hard to see why pretty Catherine ended up so smitten.

The girls, to be fair, were excellent. I got Beatrice's loving everyone and not wanting to let anyone down. And Catherine (who's now been a lovely NTS Wendy and a particularly perky Cecily) was as pouty and posturing as you'd want a teenager on the brink of it all to be.

And the story is tremendous. Eddie makes a stand for what he believes to be right, alienating everyone that loves him in the process. And he ends up (spoiler alert) dead stabbed dead as a consequence. The lawyer is given this beautifully impenetrable speech to round things off (luckily, I woke up just in time):

Most of the time we settle for half and I like it better. Even as I know how wrong he was, and his death useless, I tremble, for I confess that something perversely pure calls to me from his memory—not purely good, but himself purely. And yet, it is better to settle for half, it must be! And so I mourn him—I admit it—with a certain alarm.

What a fine message. To be urged to seize life with both hands and do what has to be done, no matter how hard the outcome.

But to my mind (and a little reassured by Thom), served up only serviceably by the Lyceum.

Clearly, the climactic nap didn't help.

Nonetheless, I'd think I'd rather have watched Strictly Ballroom.

Same message. So many more sequins.