When I heard that Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre was doing All My Sons this year, I thought that it was awfully soon after the brilliant David Suchet/Zoe Wanamaker production. It was only when I looked it up and realised that production was a full four years ago, that I understood how much it had remained in my mind ever since.

A hard act to follow, then. But, the play’s the thing. All My Sons is, in my opinion, Miller’s strongest work. Each scene is crucial to the next, and information is provided so naturally that you hardly feel the exposition. It is amazing to me that it was originally produced in 1947, so soon after the end of the war. After all, it has been some time since the Iraq war, and we have not seen any great art from that conflict.

It is important, but relatively rare to have a uniformly strong cast. Happily, this production does have such a strong cast. (And the accents are impeccable). Brid Brennan is a forthright Kate, although the emotional range is somewhat narrow. Amy Nuttall is a fiercely intelligent Ann, allowing us to see her understanding of the barbs directed at her, even as she pretends not to get it. The supporting cast are all strong, and I have a particular fondness for Tilly Blackwood as a hilarious Sue Bayliss, in full pneumatic mode.

I have often felt that the role of Chris is a thankless one at the beginning of the play. Such a Mayberry character, he is so apparently full of innocence that he scarcely seems real. One line that struck me this time (“They say in the war he was such a killer”) is hard to reconcile with the shining young man standing before us. He also seems impossibly shy in the romantic scenes for a WWII soldier. But Charles Aitken makes his belief in his father and subsequent collapse eminently believable and terribly touching.

Tom Mannion is wonderful as Joe. Often, actors cast in this role are cerebral and thoughtful. But the character is a fairly uneducated, working class boy made good, and Mannion absolutely nails this. The focus on money and security is absolutely credible in his hands, and the character’s lack of emotional resilience is brought starkly to the forefront.

One aspect of the production that worked particularly well in the open air format is the claustrophobia of life in small town America. It made perfect sense that the neighbours were simply wandering in from their own backyards, and that everyone knew everything about everyone else’s lives. As someone who is delighted with the anonymity of living in a large city, I felt a visceral reaction to it.

This production, again, is ending soon (I seem to see plays near the end of their runs because I am very choosy about where I sit). It is highly recommended, however, and if you luck into some good weather as I did, it is well worth catching.