All My Sons

Abstract

The Dewsbury Arts Group is a leading nonprofessional theater company in the North of England, operating from a former Friends meeting house with wonderful hardworking facilities that culminate in a gem of an auditorium. The group has a history with Miller, having already produced The Crucible and A View From the Bridge some time ago. The director, Sue Saville, said that they were ready to inject some “meat” into this year's program, and she knew that Arthur Miller was the playwright to which to turn.Sue Daniels and her team are to be congratulated for their realistic set design. They created a perfect replica, following Miller's directions, of a clapboard house and veranda, and with the “back lot” nicely enclosed, as the playwright would have wished. Andy Wright's “rose-tinted” lighting helps emphasize the apparent cozy image of the Keller family. The play opens with the sound of a tremendous thunderstorm, overlaid by Tony Fox's truly authentic sound of aircraft. Saville stated that the storm in her mind was the epitome of the storm that will soon break in the household and links to the damaged tree in more ways than one.Richard Brook as Joe Keller is outstanding throughout, beginning with an easy “Sunday morning” style that was to reveal his understanding of the rhythms in the play. His laconic ease at play with Leon Smithson's lively Bert seemed already undercut with a lurking insecurity. Together with the brilliant Maria Bailey as Kate Keller, the couple form a spine to this performance that never wilted in pace or lacked energy or intensity. They formed a backdrop against which the idiosyncrasies of the other characters could be contrasted.Mark Bailey is superbly wistful as Doc Bayliss; one fully can understand his broken dreams when he is constantly driven by the monetary demands of his wife Sue, safe in the hands of Lisa Dickinson. The measure of Dickinson's role, as always, is in the crucial exchange with Ann. She delivers her salutary message with just the right amount of bile and venom to make her return to friendly neighbor plausible. You simply want to give Frank Lubey (lovely Tony Fox) a good shake. Like Doc Bayliss, he is another dreamer, highlighting Miller's understanding of the frustration of returning soldiers from combat. They find evidently blinkered people like Frank and the Doc hard to read. The readjustment to a materialistic world from that special comradeship of battle is confusing, leading to frustration and anger. Iain Winstanley's Chris Keller is confused about his future in the family business, and guilty about surviving the war. He is superb in his early hesitant exchanges with Ann (Rachel Wood). Wood's Ann, however, has the steel to withstand the haranguing by Sue Bayliss, the outright wiles of Kate, the sibling tugging of brother George, and it is only right that she should deliver the final moment of truth.Mathew Bailey's George Deever is angry, having learned the truth about his father; he is also filled with remorse about how he neglected him. Madhia Ansari-Kahn's delightful cameo of the girlfriend left behind, now with three of Frank Lubey's children, is a harsh reminder to George of how life appears unreal after his war experiences. Again, Miller exerts his rhythm, as Kate somehow finds a balm for George's bitterness, and Mathew Bailey's change of heart is totally convincing, as his anger subsides with want for his boyhood years even while the knowledge of his father's innocence persists.In this production acts 2 and 3 were merged, allowing the final mixture of admissions and home truths to flood without pause. Chris and Joe are at each other's throats, Kate is descending into the fringes of insanity, and even gentle Doc Bayliss admits he “knew.” The telltale gunshot leads to the complete collapse of Chris into his mother's arms as she now begins the reparation of her surviving son. There is again a roar of piston-engined aircraft flying past, their cracked cylinder heads hinting at all the human fissures below.This performance was faithful to Miller in very sense, and there were no artificial devices laid over his script. The cast appeared to fully understand and convey the issues of denial, guilt, and greed that the playwright wanted to explore. They also each maintained their accents without falter, and this is no mean feat if one knows the distinctive tones of West Yorkshire. The cast was allowed one modest curtain call; in New York or London they indeed would have received a standing ovation.