All My Sons is all the things

Roundabout Theatre Company

I believe everyone has certain playwrights with whom they have a connection, certain artists whose music speaks directly to them. In my life as a theatre-goer, I have responded with a lot of resonance to Rattigan, Odets, and Williams. I cannot say that I have loved Arthur Miller as I have loved the other three, though I have always enjoyed his work. I remember the time I met Mr. Miller at a reception at Southern Methodist University and all I could say was, ‘You write good plays.’ Now I am ashamed of myself for not gushing because, during the performance of All My Sons currently playing Broadway, I thought to myself Arthur Miller is the quintessential American playwright. Structurally speaking, his plays are simply spot on perfect. Dialogue flows, tension grows and before our eyes theatrical storytelling blooms, at its best. Even though I have not, previously, placed the legend on my short list of favorites, I cannot deny that I was thrilled during every moment of the Jack O’Brien-helmed, Roundabout Theatre-produced production nominated for three Tony awards.

From the moment the play begins, with a dazzling recreation of a thunderstorm and wildly effective projections on the safety curtain, the audience is told this will be an explosive night of theatre, then the safety curtain rises and Douglas W. Schmidt’s set comes into view, giving everyone that incomparable thrill you get when you see real life on a stage. Trees, grass, houses side by side, gazebos and porches with sun shining down fill the proscenium arch of the American Airlines Theatre and if you’ve ever lived in, visited or just driven through suburban America, you feel like you could walk up on that stage, take off your shoes and just set a spell with the people who live there. Then you meet the people, the wonderful, horrible, flawed humanity that fills the backyards filling the proscenium arch and telling the story of secrets too long hidden in the dark, about to break through like the sun breaking through the aftermath of the thunderstorm that destroys a most precious tree in the Kellers’ backyard.

Secrets are a perfect way to set up any story and this story is full of them. The harder the people holding the secrets try to keep them from getting out, the more the tension builds. Pressure cooker theatre. It’s how Miller keeps the audiences on their toes, in their seats, and in the action. He starts off slow and peels the onion, layer by layer, and always masterfully so. It is such a joy to sit back and watch the exposition come through, delectable morsel after delicious tidbit, first in casual conversation, then with raised stakes and finally with feverish desperation, and All My Sons, a play I never saw or read before, is perfectly executed by author, director, and cast. It was, for me, a perfect trip to the theatre.

So. Having declared that, what can there possibly be left to say?

A synopsis for those who don’t know the play, just as I didn’t, but something that won’t spoil it for you because I’d love for newcomers to have the same experience I had. In 1947 middle America, the Kellers have a successful business, a lovely home, and the aforementioned secrets. Mother Kate, father Joe and son Chris are loving but there is something hanging in the air over their happiness: their older son Larry is MIA and presumed dead in the war, only not to Kate, who insists he is alive and will continue to insist at all costs. They have charming and colorful neighbors who saunter in and out of the action and they have a visitor this weekend in Ann, the fiancee of their late son, who their surviving son, Chris, is determined to wed. When her brother George arrives with claims that their father is in prison for a criminal act committed by Joe, it threatens to ruin the wedding and, indeed, the Kellers’ lives. Fans of the story know what happens and people who will become fans will learn firsthand, the way it is meant to be.

With costumes by Jane Greenwood, lighting by Natasha Katz, original music by Bob James, sound design by John Gromada and hair/wigs by Tom Watson, the play is a breathtaking orgy of stagecraft, the kind I expect one might find in ‘47 when it debuted on Broadway. Mr. O’Brien has assembled a truly magnificent team of creators to make the play happen, a team that includes actors both famous and humble, each of them equal to the task set not only by the author himself but by the prestigious history the play holds.

Roundabout Theatre Company

Tony award nominated Benjamin Walker is giving the performance of his life in All My Sons. Yes, I am saying that even after seeing Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson and American Psycho. I am saying it because he goes toe-to-toe with Titan Tracy Letts. It is an eloquent performance that Walker gives in that he starts at one level and by the end of the play we see that he and Letts are evenly matched, recreating each others’ onstage personas so as to be absolutely believable as father and son. It is a revelatory progression that one can only admire, and on the way home wonder who was responsible for the creation, Letts, Walker, O’Brien or a magic trinity composed of all three.

Now, about Mr. Letts … this is my first Tracy Letts performance. I have managed, somehow, to miss seeing him act before. I know, travesty. My bad. During the intermission I told my companion I didn’t get what Letts was doing, I didn’t think I liked it, I would have to wait until the play was completely finished before I could make a full determination. Something about his performance was making me uncomfortable, like maybe he was uncomfortable. He never seemed to be quite at home, not on the stage, not in the play. It seemed at times as though he were aware of the audience, as though he were self-conscious. I felt a falseness that I couldn’t seem to shake off. Then, in Act 3 it all came through. It wasn’t Tracy Letts who was uncomfortable, it was Joe Keller. Letts had been tempering his performance, allowing it to build up gradually and then with some steam until, finally, he and Mr. Walker were standing center stage like two bulls with locked horns, two identical twin bulls, both men titans, both toe-to-toe, both mirror images of the pain and despair the actors were representing for their characters. It was an electrifying moment in the theatre that one cannot forget.

Roundabout Theatre Company

Then there is Annette Bening. I have waited all my life to see Miss Bening on stage, missing opportunities to see her in LA in Hedda Gabler and in NYC in King Lear. When she was announced for a Broadway return in the American classic I had never seen I knew it would be a night of unforgettable firsts for me, and indeed it was. I have seen some of the greatest actresses ever born or created and at All My Sons I saw a performance from Annette Bening like nothing I have ever seen. If I had thought Mr. Letts was uncomfortable onstage, Miss Bening was the polar opposite. It was like watching a woman go about her daily life, as though a woman had wandered into the American Airlines Theatre off of 42nd Street and was going about her life as a room full of peepers watched. This was one of the few times in life we, the audience, were allowed to watch a completely relaxed, natural and at home person on a stage. Yet, in spite of her absolute relaxation on the stage, Annette Bening was able to fill the enormous space with her voice. Whenever she was on the stage I took off my assistive listening device because I wanted to hear the mellifluous sound of her inimitable voice ring throughout the air. It is truly one of the greatest sounds any theatre-goer may be privileged to hear. Relaxation and vocal gifts aside, Miss Bening’s performance is what musicians call ‘in the pocket’. This is a perfect moment in time for anyone who loves acting, who loves actors, who loves theatrical storytelling, and with it came something I don’t think I ever saw before, indeed I wonder if I will ever see it again. Annette Bening has moments in this play of complete and utter stillness. She effectively stays in character, in the moment, in the pocket, and absolutely motionless. Just as the members of the audience are holding their breath, so is she, in abject terror of what is happening in her life. There is such quiet strength in these moments of despair and Miss Bening communicates them to her audience with generosity and aplomb. It is impossible to watch this play without feeling for or falling for Kate Keller and I believe it is because Annette Bening has committed more to this woman’s creation than the average person can commit to just about anything. It’s a miraculous performance, well worth a three-decade wait.

Naturally the entire cast rises to the occasion of being on stage with these three power players and it is a testament to each and every one of them that their talent and confidence rise above what must be an intimidating task, performing eight shows a week of high drama with high standards; but it is almost certain that the three artists leading this pack set the tone for a happy workplace, a happy artistic collaboration and a happy audience heading out into the New York street moved, satisfied and artistically fulfilled, just like the audiences did in 1947 when the play was new — and yet as relevant as it is today.

All My Sons runs about 2 hours and 15 minutes with one intermission after Act 1 and a pause after Act 2

Roundabout Theatre Company

 
Playing at American Airlines Theatre • 227 West 42nd Street, NY 10036