Arthur Miller acknowledged that 'A View From The Bridge' was both a difficult plat to write and a difficult play to watch enacted on the stage. In fact, it took shape in two self-contained forms before it was accepted as a dramatic success, and then only in England, in the two act version directed by Peter Brook, an appreciative audience for the play in his native America and for much of his dramatic work that followed it - continued to elude him until his death earlier this year.

The complexity of the play is largely structural, containing both and engaging realist narrative played out in naturalistic style and objective interludes by an omniscient narrator that frame the dramatic thrust of the play, 'A View From The Bridge' struggles to make the connection between the two narratives compelling enough. This structural problem is, however, the key to interrogating Miller's dramatic text: the easy acceptance of Eddie Carbone's downfall and his inevitable comeuppance is not enough, we must question the very way in which we construct our heroes and condemn our enemies.

'A View From The Bridge' opens with a direct address to the audience, with the Italian-American lawyer Alfieri imploring us to watch the unfolding tragedy that will be played out on stage with impartiality. Its tragic hero, Eddie Carbone, he insists, was a great man damned by the circumstances of his passions to a fate which even Alfieri could not change. The Eddie Carbone that appears on stage initially compliments Alfieri's view. He is magnanimous, charitable and generous, displaying a committed affection for his wife, Beatrice, and a benevolent love for his adopted daughter, Catherine. It is the very strengths of his capacity to love, however, that becomes the cause of his downfall. As Eddie's greatest traits are revealed as his most fatal weaknesses.

In this fine production at the Gate, the ensuing tragedy unfolds with a carefully measured speed that enhances its sense of inevitability. The leading actors, most notably Christopher Meloni as Eddie, Laura Murphy as Catherine and Cathy Belton as Beatrice, follow the pace impressively, providing the tenor and tone that the narrative demands in its illustrative capacity as a moral tale. The warmth of the audience response to some of the key moments of danger and poignancy in the drama confirms the production's success in distracting us fro our immediate reaction to condemn Eddie's fate as an inevitable consequence of his obstinate refusal to accept the way things really are. It is most unnerving, even Alfieri's convincing monologue, which frames the play's closing moments, insists upon Eddie's heroic status despite what we have just witnessed.

Director Mark Brockaw's decision to frame the play in a meta-theatrical setting that works like a sitcom is complimented by Conor Linehan's score, which provides a musical narrative of impending danger and doom that Miller is so obviously directing us towards in the final denouement. A standing ovation at the end of the play confirms the audience's acquiescence to Alfieri's view of Eddie, as the only possible tragic hero of our day. Yet despite the conviction of this fine production, the questions arising from Miller's blatant manipulation of our emotional response - the central problem in this play - remain unanswered.