Arthur Miller's "The Price" is a play with a lot to say about responsibility -- responsibility to yourself, responsibility to a parent, and what happens when the two conflict.

At Everyman Theatre, director Grover Gardner's production not only conveys that theme with stunning intensity, but the production's backstage saga exemplifies the meaning of responsibility.

Three days before the opening, Gardner suddenly found himself without an actor in the play's largest role, that of Victor Franz, a New York city police officer. Actor J. M. McDonough had left the production over what the theater describes as "artistic differences," and Gardner, who hadn't acted in a half-dozen years, gallantly stepped into the role.

Though he performed with script in hand on opening night, Gardner handled this crutch so discreetly, he almost made you forget it was there. More important, he had his character's behavior down pat.

A career policeman, Victor has been eligible for retirement for several years, and though the police force was not his first career choice, he has been unable to motivate himself the to retire and try something new. He is, as his frustrated wife puts it, "stuck."

But as Gardner portrays him, there's no question that Victor is also a good-hearted, decent man. He sacrificed his college education to take care of his father, a businessman who lost everything in the 1929 stock market crash -- including his self-respect. Victor later admits he felt he had no choice, but Gardner imbues the character with so much humility and compassion, it's clear love as well as duty kept him by his father's side.

Now, 16 years after the old man's death, Victor finds himself back in his childhood home, which is about to be torn down. He callsa furniture dealer to appraise and liquidate his father's belongings, and asks his long-estranged brother Walter, a successful surgeon, to show up as well.

The conflict between these two highly dissimilar brothers is the core of the play. Nigel Reed plays Walter as rich and self-absorbed. Though he reveals he has suffered a nervous breakdown that taught him to readjust his values, Reed's Walter speaks in the condescending manner of the self-righteous and moves with rigid formality.

Into this chasm of unresolved resentments comes Gregory Solomon, an 89-year-old Jewish antiques dealer, who serves as a kind of catalyst, revealing each brother's true nature and getting them to face that truth. Stan Weiman's Solomon imbues the play with both comic relief and a warm, fatherly influence.

Whatever his talent may be for appraising used furniture, he excels at appraising human nature. Thanks in large part to Solomon's wisdom, by the time Victor walks out of his father's house for the last time, he not only has a better sense of who he is, he has also gained the understanding and respect of his wife. Julie-Ann Elliott's portrayal of this status-conscious woman is a bit too severe, though this is the sad severity of a woman so ruled by appearances, they've clouded her vision.

All of the action takes place in the cluttered attic of a Manhattan brownstone, depicted with considerable detail in designer Robin J. Stapley's set, which has been loaded with props by set dresser Sheila Childs.

Only one element threatens to mar the impact of the production -- an element that would be minor if it weren't the play's final moment. Although director Gardner adheres to Miller's stage directions for this last scene, Weiman's concluding tone suggests a demonic, manipulative or even evil side to his character -- a negative impression at odds with his otherwise gentle portrayal of Solomon.

In other respects, however, Everyman has staged a fine production, and one whose last-minute cast change is a reminder of the resilient spirit of live theater.

'The Price'

Where: Everyman Theatre, 1727 N. Charles St.

When: 8 p.m. Wednesdays through Saturdays, 2: 30 p.m. Sundays; through March 28

Tickets: $12 and $15

Call: 410-752-2208 Pub Date: 3/09/99