Just See It Human: An All My Sons Review

Malachy Glanovsky and Michael Gaston in All My Sons. Photo by T. Charles Erickson.

“A doctor could make a million dollars if he could figure out a way to bring a boy into the world without a trigger finger.” Hartford Stage gives new life to Arthur Miller’s All My Sons directed by Melia Bensussen. With rivaling themes of ‘for love or for wealth’, ‘man versus machine,’ and ‘God versus man’ with a sprinkle of star dust, this iteration of Miller’s work compellingly unravels the tightly woven fabric of familial duty and asserts that a responsibility to the broader family—to the connection of humanity is just as important, if not more so.

Patriarch Joe Keller, played by Michael Gaston (known for roles in film and television such as Prison Break and Spenser Confidential), and his wife Kate Keller, portrayed by Oscar legend Marsha Mason (known for roles in film such as Cinderella Liberty and The Goodbye Girl), have their world turned upside down when their only surviving son, Chris Keller (Ben Katz), gets it in his head to invite Anne Deever (Fiona Robertson), the love of his missing brother Larry, to visit. The Kellers and Deevers are connected by more than the relationship between Ann and Larry. They are neighbors before the incident that kills 21 pilots and sends Ann’s father, Steve Deever to prison.

Enter George Deever (Reece Dos Santos), the stick of dynamite that blows open the closet of skeletons and shatters the air of secrecy that everyone tiptoes around. The plot unravels further with the help of Dr. Jim Bayliss (Godfrey L. Simmons, Jr.) and his wife Sue Bayliss (Yadira Correa) whose presence triggers expository confessions. While Frank and Lydia Lubey (Dan Whelton and Caitlin Zoz) serve as remnants of a time gone by—triggering nostalgia and time-stamping the changes in the lives of the characters collectively—a young Bert (Malachi Glanovsky) represents new life, the next generation, in his impassioned and idealistic nature.

Gaston is captivating as the picture of an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. The journey between acts, wearing on his matter-of-fact disposition, gives way to the light of the truth that casts the darkest of shadows. Mason exudes the poetics of drama and is an absolute vision in her portrayal of a matriarch bound by loyalty to her husband while burdened by love for her children. Katz melts us as the stature of his entitlement and sure-footedness immolates at the intrusion of truths that burns out ‘the star of his honesty’. Robberson is electric in her joy and terrific in her rage; her presence dainty yet formidable as she persuasively pivots between wounded naiveté and aggressive certainty.

Santos is a burst of passion and is brilliantly confounding in the dissonance apparent in his struggle between loyalty and truth, between the way things were and what they’ve become—wanting everything to be alright but fighting with the inner knowing that it isn’t. Simmons seamlessly floats between comic relief and confidante, seasoning each scene with laughter and somberness to taste. Correa is equally comedic and authentic in her delivery of truths, while Whelton and Zoz’s brand of catharsis is more quirky in nature. Glanovsky unveils an innocence that, paired with his taking to Joe, is disarming in Joe’s favor.

The house on the little hill, the cozy yard, and the nook adjacent to the house that alludes to a world beyond that of the Kellers sets the stage for the depiction of a well off life. Riw Rakkulchon’s scenic design is foundational in highlighting how the Kellers lived at the cost of all it cost— of the price paid for Joe to stay in business.

The backdrop of projected sky tones aids in the transition from day to night in congruence with moonlight mimicking spotlights and lantern-adorned steps. Mary Louise Geiger’s lighting design creates a beautiful and lulling ambiance that fantastically juxtaposes the unraveling fabric of the Keller family. Lucas Clopton’s sound design pairs ominously with the superstitious underlay of Frank and Kate’s musings of Larry’s astronomical odds of survival.

An-lin Dauber’s costume design is more than just a timestamp of an era; it is much more than wardrobe. Each article of clothing aids in defining the characters, from Bert’s fitted overalls to Georgie’s almost too-big suit jacket and top hat indicative of filling in a role that has him in over his head. Each element of this show uplifts the next, creating a harmonious production that skillfully plays on the audience’s sensitivities.

The nuances of Miller’s play extends beyond its fixture in American culture. Swap out Joe Keller for a patriarch of a different family from a different culture—perhaps one that is currently on fire in our modern world—add in the geographical historical references with contemporary relevance and the themes still resonate. The takeaways are universal: sons across the world are casualties of war, of betrayal, of self-righteous secrets. This production disruptively encapsulates the truth of Miller’s story: sons across the globe are the responsibility of fathers all over the world. “I guess to him, they were all my sons.” Perhaps, this was Miller’s declaration too.

Visit HartfordStage.org for tickets to All My Sons showing through May 5th.