All My Sons

Celeb studded casts have become as common place in London’s West End as Pret A Mangers on the surrounding streets. They often leave you with a similar feeling too: you’ve paid too much for something that lacks proper substance.

I am thrilled to type that All My Sons at Wyndham’s Theatre leaves you with no such feeling. Yes, it’s a very expensive show, but it is as enriching and nourishing as the juiciest steak. The stars (Bryan Cranston, Paapa Essiedu, etc.) don’t steal scenes. They work together, lifting and lovingly delivering Miller’s words. A true ensemble & a show truly worth catching.

As the fellow solo theatre goer said to me during the curtain call: ‘I’m so happy I spent all my salary on that. I now don’t need to eat for the month’.

Arthur Miller has a remarkable ability to thread sweeping moral and social questions through the intimacy of family life, and All My Sons is no exception, feeling both personal and universal in its themes. The all-star cast deliver captivating performances, and the staging is elegantly minimal—nothing more is needed when Miller’s writing so poignantly exposes the harsh truths of the corrupted American Dream and father-son relationships. The set and lighting are understated yet powerful, rich in presence and symbolism. Expect a thrilling and heart-wrenching 135 minutes of family drama (no interval needed).