The curtain goes up on a peaceful suburban setting. It could be a picture in a magazine, where everything is always perfect and nothing ever changes. Only the fallen tree in the foreground serves as an indicator of the tension simmering underneath.

“All My Sons,” written by Arthur Miller, was performed in the Murray Kahn Theater on Thursday, January 14, and Friday, January 15. Directed by juniors Serena Berry and Abie Sidell, it explores the damaged Keller family, who are still haunted by the disappearance of their son Larry during World War II. They have spent three years maintaining the guise of a normal family, and have been somewhat successful. With the arrival of Larry’s sweetheart Anne (junior Willa Beckman), now the fiancé of his brother Chris (junior Matteo Singer), the family must come to terms with their mourning, and their desire for economic success at the expense of the good of the society.

Despite the intriguing characters, the first act was consistently dry. The majority of the cast had difficulty getting into character. At times, Joe Keller (junior Isaac Lapides) played a character significantly younger than 61-years-old. His interactions with his son, Chris, in the first act seemed contrived. But he improved tremendously during the following acts, perhaps due to the more passionate material he had to work with.

The turning point of the first act came when Kate Keller (junior Emily Martin) arrived on stage. Martin easily slipped into the shoes of a woman more than 30 years her senior, shining in her happy motherly moments as well as in her hysterical breakdowns. Her array of emotions was conveyed through anxious glances, hysterical outbursts, and constant movement.

One of the weaknesses of the production was the actors’ constant reliance on yelling to convey emotion. While this device succeeded in communicating the characters’ inerrant anger, the effect was weaker with each successive argument. Even as other actors seemed to lose the identity of their characters in the shouting matches, others only excelled in the performance when displaying rage. Singer, for example, was, at times, weak in his delivery, but had several strong moments when he was able to let go and bellow at the top of his lungs, especially during clashes with his father. Despite his ability to convey emotion through passionate screams, he lacked subtlety and the audience’s connection to the character suffered as a result.

Another low point of the play was the lack of chemistry between Singer and Beckman. While they both performed well separately, the moments of supposed intimacy that they shared seemed artificial. For example, Chris’s disclosure of his feelings about the war lacked meaning because his relationship with Anne seemed almost superficial. The absence of a connection between the two characters took some emotion and authenticity out of the play.  However, the pair should be commended for staying in character for over a minute, holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes, while announcements over the PA system went on.

Despite her lack of spark with Singer, Beckham crafted Anne as a strong character. She delivered her lines in a smooth voice, and her control acted as a good foil to Kate’s hysteria.

Freshman Ian Outhwaite, as Anne’s brother, George, was phenomenal in his ability to subtly convey the pathos of his character through various vocal inflections and innovative gestures and mannerisms. He embodied the image of a haunted 1940s lawyer, hunching over and speaking in an authentic accent. He easily transitioned between powerful resentment toward Chris and sweet, restrained affection toward the sunny neighbor Lydia (freshman Clarissa Sorenson). Although their stunted relationship is a side note, they had more chemistry than any of the other couples.

The majority of the cast had problems with movement, especially during extended scenes of dialogue. Stiff and repetitive arm motions made the performance dull at certain points and the most glaring problem with the second act was the lack of body language during explosive scenes, where the motions of the actors did not always match the emotions that their voices portrayed. Singer was raging while he strode around slowly in the same manner as normal conversations. His facial expressions conveyed his emotion well, but seeing the same angry expression on his face all the time felt repetitive. He slightly remedied this on Friday night by shoving over a chair.

The directors did a good job blocking moments of quiet, leaving the cast scattered across the stage and visibly broken apart. As Joe read a letter that would damage familial relations, Chris was the only one standing by him. Kate wept on the other end of the stage, and the usually strong, unflappable Anne stood hunched over a fence in the background. The most powerful aspect was the silence in which they suffered, allowing their body language to display their grief for them.

The 1946 setting was augmented by great efforts on the part of the art and costume crews. The set was painted beautifully, and the layout was complete without looking cluttered. “I like how they […] ended up using pretty much every prop and element of the stage,” said sophomore Joseph Hawthorne, who attended the show on Friday night. There were, however, some problems with the lighting, such as a wavering spotlight during the directors’ introduction speech, and a bright, hard light when it was supposed to be nighttime.

Despite its drawbacks, many in the audience enjoyed the production. “It was amazing,” said sophomore Mick Zloof, who attended on Friday night.