But expectations were always high for this revival of Arthur Miller\u2019s 1947 breakthrough All My Sons<\/a>, because Van Hove made his own UK breakthrough with his extraordinary 2014 production of Miller\u2019s A View from the Bridge<\/a>. And by Hove, he\u2019s done it again.<\/p>\n To some extent the secret of his triumph here is \u2018cast really really good actors\u2019, foremost Bryan Cranston and Paapa Essiudu, who offer two of the best stage performances of 2025.\u00a0<\/p>\n But what van Hove has done is discretely uncouple Miller\u2019s play from the naturalism that often stifles it. Running at the same length as the starry Old Vic production of a few years back but with no interval (ie about 15 minutes longer), Van Hove\u2019s production really savours the writing.\u00a0<\/p>\n All My Sons is an eventually bitter indictment of the American dream, that traces the downfall of Joe Keller (Cranston), a businessman and factor owner in suburban Ohio, 1947, who has recently avoided jail for his business\u2019s role in selling cracked cylinder heads to the US Air Force, leading to the deaths of 21 pilots (yes, it\u2019s what the band is named after). His partner Steve Deever was instead blamed and jailed.<\/p>\n When I\u2019ve seen the play before, the production has tended to gallop towards this part of the story, with a focus that minimises the characters who aren\u2019t members of the Keller family. But Van Hove luxuriates in every detail and role. The matter of the dead pilots doesn\u2019t emerge until some way in, allowing the initial phases of the play to unfurl as a quirkily poignant study in how sedate suburban American life was scarred by the war. Here, the Keller\u2019s negotiate with their oddball neighbours and grapple with the aftermath of their pilot son Larry\u2019s disappearance at the height of the conflict. Relatively minor characters get stunning scenes: in particular the arrival of Steve\u2019s son George \u2013 who can be little more than a deus ex machina to usher in the play\u2019s climax \u2013 is handled phenomenally well. Looking like he slept in a hedge, Tom Glynn-Carney is superb as George, from his wildly disruptive entrance to a usually fleeting encounter with his now married former love Lydia (Aliya Odoffin) that plays out like a full-blooded drama of its own.<\/p>\n By Hove, he\u2019s done it again<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Van Hove stages All My Sons like a series of playlets that flow into each other, the central drama slowly building to a climax but with each component given its due. It\u2019s bound together by an extraordinary creative team: Jan Versweyveld\u2019s evocative set simply consists of the apple tree planted in Larry\u2019s memory that is topped by a storm at the start of the story, a round aperture behind it standing in for the Keller\u2019s house. Tom Gibbons\u2019s minimalist but ever-present score drifts from quirky to sanctified to chilling, heightening every scene. And Versweyveld\u2019s lighting is astonishing, starting out warmly naturalistic \u2013 a perfect sunny morning in the suburbs \u2013\u00a0but gradually becoming further and further unmoored from reality as the drama intensifies, the final scenes unfolding under sinister, unnatural greens and blues.<\/p>\n But it\u2019s the actors that ultimately make it. Cranston is superb as a grandfatherly figure who believes he has squared his past actions with himself, because he\u2019s a pragmatist, a capitalist and because he thinks what he did was in line with the American Dream. But at the very end he is almost physically stunned to discover that he does care \u2013 the revelation rips him to shred before our eyes. Marianne Jean-Baptiste is exquisite as Kate Keller: a tough, no nonsense woman for whom the death of her son Larry has become an achilles heel, a point of vulnerability in an otherwise steely character.<\/p>\n It\u2019s Essiedu however, who really runs off with the show as the Kellers\u2019 surviving son Chris. At one point the family\u2019s embittered neighbour Sue (Cath Whitefield) suggests Chris leave town because she\u2019s annoyed that his sunny goodness is encouraging her husband to take a lower paid job (\u2018He’s driving my husband crazy with that phony idealism of his\u2019). And as Chris, Essiedu really is that guy: a puppyish, bashful, extraordinary wholesome young man who teeters on the border between \u2018really nice\u2019 and \u2018living saint\u2019. We really root for him \u2013 when he eventually turns on Joe it\u2019s not a petty family squabble, it\u2019s Biblical, the Son confronting the Father and declaring Heaven is a lie. There\u2019s plenty of imagery relating to the Fall sprinkled throughout Miller\u2019s prose, and this production laps it up.<\/p>\n It\u2019s more meandering and less taut than Van Hove\u2019s A View from the Bridge, but I think that\u2019s a strength in the end \u2013 he\u2019s certainly convinced me that All My Sons shouldn\u2019t be rushed. The whole thing plays out symphonically, building to an astonishing crescendo. Right near the end, Joe finally says the play\u2019s name, its meaning clear at last. When I\u2019ve seen the play before, there\u2019s been no special reaction. Here, the audience gasped.<\/p>\n All My Sons is at Wyndham\u2019s Theatre, now until Mar 7 2026. Buy tickets here.<\/p>\n The best new London theatre shows to book for in 2025 and 2026.<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n![\"All](\"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/11\/1763783956_431_image.webp.webp\")
\nPhoto: Jan Versweyveld
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\nPhoto: Jan Versweyveld
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