Arthur Miller’s The Price (1968) is incisive, humorous, surprising, and psychologically penetrating. So why have the critics been so bored with it for so many years? Leafing through the notices for the transfixing new production (at the American Airlines Theatre through May 14), I noticed that the reviewers couldn’t quite come up with a reason, at least not one that made any sense. One writer noted dismissively that the play is no Death of a Salesman though it at least made a few digs at capitalism—a few too few, evidently. Another, in the Times, said that the play was always “a little bit out of style,” and this last comment is a revealing one. The Price (unlike Miller’s best-known efforts) doesn’t give today’s critic what he really wants, which is billboard-sized neo ...