All My Sons

Any revival of Arthur Miller’s excursion into a flawed post-war US society at the Royal Exchange has the weight of history to overcome. It was in this very space, in 1985, that John Thaw gave a spectacular performance as the guilty businessman Joe Keller, who lets his partner take the blame for a fatal mistake in his factory. Don Warrington can’t quite match that gravitas in this production – indeed, his Keller seems relatively bumbling in the first half. But the Talawa company still revels in the power of this enduring story of family and money.

Talawa is a black-led theatre company under the directorship of Michael Buffong, who happily bats away as nonsense any questions about a ‘racism’ angle to this version of All My Sons. The more interesting take is on Joe’s wife, Kate. Dona Croll not only seems to have the funniest lines in a play not usually noted for its humour, but most of the power in the family. Croll is outstanding, and it’s worth noting that the last time Buffong directed here, Raisin In The Sun had a similarly memorable matriarchal figure.

That was a remarkable production, and while Chike Okonkwo imbues the horrified but genial surviving son, Chris, with just enough nuanced restraint, Buffong seems to struggle with being in-the-round this time. The set is sparse, not in keeping with the idea that Keller is a thriving businessman. There are issues with hearing all the lines, not helped by some mangled US accents.

Nevertheless, the rhythms of a play Miller himself admitted was written so that ‘boredom might threaten’ are captured effortlessly. When the horror of Keller’s actions become all too clear, All My Sons is electrifying.